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Sixteen Candles
Part Two
After getting over the shock of seeing her husband brutally murdered, Hanna Kinkaid had fought like a woman possessed. Not for fear of her own safety (though that was obviously a concern), but for that of her gorgeous, sixteen year old daughter, Holly. She had clawed, kicked, scratched, punched and screamed as two men had dragged her out of the living room. The last sight of her daughter, was that of two other men leading the stunned girl toward the study.
“I have to get to her!” Was Hanna’s overriding thought.
Her two assailants were duly impressed by the resistance the attractive, 34 year-old blonde put up. But, as the saying goes, they didn’t have time to deal with this shit. Despite numerous, near debilitating shocks from the cattle prod, Hanna kept coming at them. It finally took two, old fashioned hammer-like blows to her solar plexus, to subdue the stunningly beautiful mother of two.
Working in practiced tandem, the masked men stripped, then wrestled Hanna into a set of restraints identical to that of Holly, though the mother was unaware of this. By the time she had regained her wind and her wits, it was well past “too late”. In addition to her inescapable straightjacket and tight, latex sheath, the assailants had rendered the uber-MILF completely isolated and helpless.
She was wrestled to her feet and led hobbled through the house. Hanna knew that they’d entered the kitchen, only by touch of cool tile on her bare feet. She was forced to sit on one of the wooden chairs. She could feel the polished wood of the seat on the portions of her thighs not encased in the hybrid rubber.
And still, she struggled to free herself, twisting and writhing to the very finite limits of her restraints, not giving up until she was close to passing out from her inadequate intake of oxygen. Completely winded and terrified, she sat there, her back held straight by the severity of her bondage. She knew not, what was to come next.
***
As Holly entered the kitchen, she saw its three occupants. Two were dressed as her attackers, in black from head to toe. The third was seated. Holly immediately knew it was her mother, and by the hump curving the ‘sausage casing’ tight outer layer of latex beneath her shoulder blades, the girl knew her mother was bound the same as she. There were however, two differences. Holly’s mother was bound in shining turquoise latex, opposed to Holly’s scarlet. Whatever the color, their identical bondage was severe and inescapable.
The other difference was that her mother had no head. Or rather, it had been encased in something that looked like an aqua-colored, futuristic space helmet. Strange domes covered her ears and Holly could see the edges of the wide, turquoise hued patent leather straps that crushed her mother’s mouth and eyes. Around her neck, was an inconceivably high, plastic collar. The glistening aqua shell of the collar held her mother’s head rigidly stationary.
“Mom! MOM!” The fearful teen called out.
Her immobile mother didn’t even flinch at the sound of her daughter’s voice. That was because she hadn’t heard it. For beneath the sound dampening headphones built-in to the patent leather helmet, foam plugs had already been inserted deep into her ear canals. Hanna Kinkaid could hear nothing but the thrum of her pulse and the ghostly sounds of her shallow breathing. Had she known that her daughter was nearby, Hanna would still have been unable to make the slightest sound of reassurance or concern. Holly was about to find out why.
The teen was plunked down on another chair, facing away from her mother. The hobble was temporarily unfastened, only to be looped around the chair leg and secured. Running (or walking) away, was again, not an option. One of her original kidnappers (Holly couldn’t be sure, they all looked alike) stood behind her. He grasped the shoulder straps of the outer sheath firmly, insuring the sixteen year old remained seated. Another masked assailant knelt in front of her. Holly peered at him with wide frightened eyes.
“P-Please,” she sputtered, “why are you doing this?”
Instead of an answer, he spoke with what could almost have been taken for compassion.
“Don’t fight it and this will go much easier.” He said softly, yet firmly.
Holly watched as he rolled an orange rubber cone between his fingers. When compressed enough, he inserted the cone into the girl’s left ear. When her right ear was filled, Holly had been rendered virtually deaf. The teenager whimpered at yet another alien sensation.
She looked at the man once again and saw that he was opening his mouth exaggeratedly wide. Mechanically, Holly mimicked his actions. A black, misshapen object approached her head. She remembered the weird helmet her mother’s head was encased in. Reflexively, she bucked, but the strong hands held her in place. They squeezed her shoulders painfully until Holly opened her mouth once more. She felt, rather than heard, her own frightened groan.
A flaccid rubber bladder slid between her teeth. Holly retched at the horrid taste, but it was too late to spit it out. Quickly, the black leather interior of her own helmet swung up in front of her face. The unpleansantries continued, as a firm set of rubber tubes were worked up her nostrils. The ravishing teenager found that air passed freely through them.
And then her world went momentarily dark, as the helmet was pulled over her face. Holly’s vision returned, as the eyeholes were aligned. The halves of the helmet were drawn around back. Her head began to jerk involuntarily back as the laces were tightened. The helmet grew tighter and tighter until she thought her head might implode.
There was an unexpected yank on the back of her head, which coincided with her lips being crushed flat beneath the coarse lining of the headgear. The band of pressure was uniform around her head and Holly realized it was the same exterior gag strap she’d seen used on the outside of her mother’s helmet. Tears spilled out from behind the eyeholes, soaking into the pungent hide.
The man fumbled beneath her nose and suddenly, the rubber balloon inside her mouth began to swell! Holly screeched once more, as the space inside her mouth rapidly vanished. Her tormentor kept a close watch on her eyes, gauging from them, when to stop the inflation. Apparently, his concept of Holly’s limits were drastically different from her own. Or perhaps, he had a better understanding of the tolerances the female body could endure.
The foul tasting rubber continued to expand, flattening her tongue and encroaching on the back of her throat. Holly screamed for him to stop, which triggered her gag reflex. The man waited for the retching and dry heaves to pass, then gave the inflator one final pump. The import was immediately clear to the teenager. Although she was unimaginably silenced by the gag and leather helmet, she would have to voluntarily remain quiet, in order to keep from triggering a deadly choking episode.
Her chin was forced up as an inflexible collar was secured around her throat. When it was latched secure, Holly’s pulse throbbed with the relentless pressure. Her head was held rigid, her neck elongated. Once more, she looked pleadingly at the man before him.
She saw now that he was holding a mirror. The blonde teen stared into a reflection she did not recognize as her own. Her dazzling, gray-blue eyes peered back at her, wide with fear and duress. Everything else was trapped beneath the unyielding grip of scarlet patent leather. A mirror behind her shifted, allowing her to see that the gag strap had been padlocked on. Were she completely unrestrained, the helmet could still not be removed.
That was the last image she saw, as the blindfold cloaked her in darkness. After it was firmly buckled, the felt a light tap on the back of her head. Somehow, she knew that it too had been locked on. She felt the hobble chain released from the chair leg and strong hands lifted her standing. A tug on the front of the collar that could only have been from a leash, signaled her to move forward. She was helpless to do anything but comply.
Holly’s bare legs registered the cool, evening air as she was marched outside. She prayed that her mother was with her, but had no way of knowing if this were true. Descending the steps, she winced beneath the smothering leather helmet, as she was forced to walk across the gravel driveway.
Strong hands lifted her and she found herself standing on the cold, corrugated floor of a vehicle. The leash tugged once more and she followed its lead. A hand on her latex covered breast signaled her to stop. Unseen hands did something down by her crotch, then she was roughly pushed seated. The seat or bench was hard and unpadded.
Strong hands grasped her ankles and pushed them under the bench. Waiting there, was a wooden pillory set at a forty-five degree angle. Once her ankles were in place, the other half was clamped down and locked. Her legs would remain bent, feet beneath her seat, for the duration of the journey.
She was pressed back hard against the wall of the vehicle. A broad strap was cinched down across her thighs, making her one with the bench. Incredibly, her knees were strapped together, as if she stood any chance of moving from that spot. More straps, probably anchored to the wall behind her, were drawn across her waist and chest. A padlock was secured through a “D” ring on the back of her collar to a ring anchored in the wall behind her. Finally, some kind of tether was attached to the top of her helmet and drawn up tight to the ceiling. Holly was now literally, incapable of moving a muscle.
As if her terror and confusion weren’t enough already, the vivacious birthday girl nearly went catatonic when one of her breathing tubes abruptly stopped working. But then the flow of air resumed. In fact, it seemed that the gas was being forced into her lungs. Holly felt no different and gratefully assumed she was being given oxygen to prevent asphyxiation. She was partly right.
A gentle vibration tickled the backs of her thighs and the teenager guessed that the engine had started. She at once hoped that her mother was with her and prayed that she’d been spared this horrible nightmare. Again, there was no way of knowing which was true. She could feel the vehicle sway slightly as they left the driveway. She herself, didn’t budge an inch.
Behind her, Holly left the comforts of her home. Ahead of her, she had no idea of what lie. Quiet tears mixed with the sweat beneath the stifling leather helmet. Her freedoms had been wrested from her, her voice, silenced. She had no choice but to sit there and await whatever someone else had planned for her.
On the other side of the van, Holly’s mother, Hanna, sat in equally restrained silence, pondering much the same thing. Her contemplations were interrupted, when the prods on her vagina and anus suddenly swelled. She couldn’t suppress the startled squeal of surprise. She hitched and sputtered, fighting back the urge to retch.
After managing to calm herself somewhat, the ravishing blonde screamed once more, as powerful electric shocks assaulted her breasts, vagina and rectum. They weren’t constant, but pulsed intermittently at seemingly random intervals and intensities. To Hanna, it felt like her most intimate, private places were being attacked by hundreds of white hot needles. Her bladder let go, the warm fluid wicking between her skin and latex panties.
At the same time, the sharp sounds of a whip on flesh, accompanied by the anguished screams of a woman in agony, blared through the headphones of the discipline helmet. The sexy mother of two, could do nothing to shut out the horrifying sound. It assaulted her brain with a mind numbing intensity. She found herself unable to form even the thought, that she hoped her daughter was not suffering the same fate.
Holly was suffering a similar, but completely different occurrence. The breast cups and crotch panels of both women’s straight jackets had been fitted with the blunt metal spikes. They were in fact conduits for electrical impulses. They could deliver incredible pain, as was Hanna’s experience, or something completely different. For Holly, it was an oscillating vibration that wasn’t at all unpleasant. Her breasts and nipples, vagina and clitoris seemed to vibrate with pleasurable sensations. Even her rectum and ring of her anus were tickled by the impulses. Through her headphones flowed the sounds of a woman, deep in the throes of sexual passion.
For a sixteen year-olds body, at the height of its sexual awakening, the feelings were deep and conflicting. She knew she shouldn’t be liking this, but it felt so GOOD! Her breathing became more shallow and rapid. She began to rock against her restraints and couldn’t stop herself.
Holly felt the first climax coming, but could do nothing to prevent it. She wasn’t really sure if she wanted too. When she came, it was like no other experience she’d ever felt. Oh, she’d masturbated before, but this was on an infinitely grander scale. She was blinded by intense flashes of light behind her eyes and her whole body seemed to levitate from the seat. The crescendo nearly caused her to pass out.
As the orgasm faded, the teen was left completely exhausted. She fought to catch her breath. The impulses though, never wavered. Holly groaned, as she felt the much too soon tickle of arousal radiate out from her sex. Surely another orgasm would kill her. But when it (and she) came again, it didn’t. And neither did the countless others to follow.
One of the four kidnappers chosen to watch over the captives, did so with great interest. In order to get paid, they had to deliver two, living hostages. His eyes scanned back and forth across the van, carefully monitoring each motionless woman. He sat close enough to listen to their breathing, whistling in and out of the nose tubes. That, and the faint, shrill whines that whispered from them.
He could detect virtually no movement, which was exactly what they wanted to accomplish. Unable to do anything but sit there and endure, was a powerful psychological weapon. Looking at the two lithesome blondes, one bound in turquoise, the other crimson, the man thought to himself, “Some lucky bastard is going to celebrate Christmas early this year”.
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