The Room Covered In Glass · Part 2 (2/2)
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. We'll find our play soon enough."
"What happens when I submit?" he asked.
"The arrangement ends," she said, turning ever so slightly and breaking eye contact. "You shall be released into the jungle. I shall go back to watching over the hunters. Normality."
"What happens," Ryan said, choosing his words carefully, "if I don't submit?"
She turned then, slowly, back into his eyes, coming closer to him. His heart beat faster.
Amanda drew her legs over his, and pressed her weight down upon his spread-apart legs, so that they created to V's that were locked together with each other. She drew her hands behind his neck and pressed her body against his.
He flipped his head up to the ceiling. His pleasure was immeasurable, and his eyes closed. He felt her draw her hands down to his chest, and then the belt below. She slowly and carefully pressed the sides of the belt and it snapped open, and she unbuttoned the pants below it. She unzipped the zipper.
His penis shot out like a flagpole, fully erect and ready for action. She caressed it softly, moving her body up and down his bound body, and slowly, she moved forward, opening her own pants as she had done to his. And two became one.
Time flew by at the speed of minutes, days, years, months. She moved up and down his body, slowly, surely, in a powerful sense. And his body shuddered and moved in delight, bound and locked in its vulnerable and penetrated state. And then one became two, and she retreated, her pants once again closed. She closed in on his face.
"Don't worry, my friend," she said, looking into his face. "You will submit soon enough."
She turned and looked away for only a moment.
"While I find simplicity in my design, I am not under that opinion when it comes to bonds," she said slowly and seductively. "More rope, the better. So please hold still."
"I'll try," said Ryan, and she came at him.
She bound his chest first, making an X and tracing it with the rope across his chest several times and then using the remaining rope to fasten his chest down to the chair so that his upper body had nowhere to go. Then she fastened his pants again and tied many strands of rope across his pelvic area, making sure that it was extremely tight. The pressure drove him mad.
"I know that you're not going to be going anywhere," she said. "But still, you may have visitors who don't know any better. We wouldn't want them getting the wrong idea. Like, say, perhaps, that you are to be intimate with anyone but me."
And then she drew in, kissed him on the lips, and then used a length of rope to gag his mouth. And with that, she left.
She admired his defiance and confidence, even in the face of sexual slavery. Most of the boys out in the jungle would have wet their pants several times over by now. His stoic poker face was one for the ages, she thought.
She watched him from the window that he did not know existed. She watched as he tested each of his bonds with methodical pressure from his muscles. When he was truly satisfied, he struggled and breathed deeply, the pressure on his pelvic area pulsating pleasure throughout his body. She could see it in the way that he moved, in the way that he breathed. He was loving this.
When she became satisfied that he was immobile and eventually bored, she sent in the girls, one at a time, to play with him. She didn't know if he enjoyed pain, so they kept it light; mostly tickling, playful rope tugging and tying, and straddling the boy as she had done. Amanda finally sent in the trio of girls who had gone hunting for Ryan with her, and they had untied the torso and drew apart his unbuttoned shirt, caressing it and licking it softly. None of the girls penetrated the rope barrier around his privates, however. They knew she was watching.
He enjoyed this very much, though he kept his distance from the other girls. He never made eye contact. Despite the sexual tension and perverse withholding, he seemed very much unattached to any of the girls that assaulted him for hours. Attracted, certainly, but not attached. This boy was very smart. He had avoided capture for years, but he also knew what he was doing once he was in their grasp.
And what was that girl that he had with him? She knew nothing of a female prey. It was very strictly handled: males are prey, females are hunters. That's how it worked. So where had she come from? Had he kept her and hid her from the hunters, and for how long?
She left him alone for a while, but she always watched him, curious and fascinated.
"My lady," came the voice of Norton behind her. She spun away from the one-way window, hiding the shock he had given her.
"Yes, Norton?" she asked.
"You must tell us your plans for tomorrow," said Norton, his aging frame shivering in the room's cold air. "We must know what to do with the boy."
"Oh, yes," she said. "Do not worry. Once he falls asleep, give him the standard dose of sleepers. I will take it from there."
"As you wish, my lady," said Norton, and he disappeared.
Boslick awoke with a start. His bound body was inches away from Portia's sleeping body. As he blinked, the fuzzy frame of Norton slowly descended into view. Norton pressed his first finger against his slowly curling mouth silently, indicating that for whatever noise Boslick could make, it was unwise.
"My dear boy," said Norton, in a whisper that couldn't wake a fly. "I hear that you would not object to being a hunter for a change, hmm?"
Boslick thought about it. Indeed, the idea appealed to him. Switching roles sounded like a refreshing change, and certainly just as rewarding.
Boslick nodded.
Norton drew in closer.
"I have a proposition for you," he said, again in that whisper. "It will take some time, but surely, you will find it very appealing."
And Norton told him many things.
Ryan awoke slowly, and comfortably.
He could not move. Well, that's a surprise, he thought sarcastically. But he was very comfortable today.
He was lying down, back pressed against a cushioned bench of some sort. His wrists were tied below the bottom of this bench, and his torso was secured firmly with several bands of rope wrapped around the bench and his arms. His ankles were secured to the legs of the bench. With a few simple ties and the bench, he was rendered completely immobile. Again, he found respect for his captor and their professional bondage.
Steps.
"Morning."
"Hello," he replied.
Something passed over his head. Into his mouth. A gag.
"Nothing personal, my dear," she said. "We're just running a test today."
She slowly slid her fingers down the front of his torso until she reached the belt. She unhooked it slowly, then undid his pants. His manliness stood straight up into the air on the bench. She laughed.
"Just hold still, my dear," she said softly, then passed beyond his frame of vision. Then she came back, with a floating sort of black object that he couldn't see fully.
The black thing hovered closer to him, and then stopped. Ryan just looked up at the ceiling, wondering what was happening. Then he felt it. A surge of pain. It blasted through his entire body, forcing him to arch every muscle he could possibly move. He shut his eyes and bit into the gag as hard as he could.
And then it stopped.
He opened his eyes and looked at Amanda's face. She was not looking at him, but rather at his deflated manliness with a look of dissatisfaction that was etched on her beautiful features.
"Not into torture, are we?" she asked. "Pity. I have so much expertise in that field."
She removed the gag from his mouth.
"You could have just asked," he said.
"That's not much of a submission, you know," she said, a smirk appearing on her mouth.
He sighed and looked back up at the ceiling again.
"Have I bored you?" she asked. "See, you're erect again."
"Yeah," he said.
Part 3
Ryan woke yet again, but this time, something was different.
No ropes. No chain. No bonds. Nothing. He was in the very same room as ever, but he was without bonds entirely. He blinked the light from his eyes and then noticed the old man standing next to him, looking at his waking face with a glazed, vaguely stern look.
"She will wake in approximately a half hour," said the old man. "I will lock the door behind me."
And with that, he left. A click in the door a second after showed that he was a man of his word. Ryan turned and saw something he didn't expect.
A large bed with flowery sheets and gorgeous woodwork had been moved into the room while he had been out. A puffy comforter lay on top, and on top of that was Amanda, her hands tucked into the pillow, fast asleep. Probably drugged the same way he had been for the last week or so, Ryan mused. She was still dressed in her usual hunter's garb – the same woven shirt that rippled with every breath she took, the same belt and tight fitted pants that pressed against her thigh muscles.
On the floor, there were coils of fresh white rope and a pair of scissors. This was the same stuff he had been tied with every day.
Ryan smiled softly, then bent down to the rope.
Amanda woke with her hands tied behind her and something in her view.
"I thought so," she said, blinking.
She moved her body slightly while her mind started working again. Her hands were tied behind her back, her ankles were tied together, and here was a web of ropes down her midsection. It made a row of six inch diamonds that went down, starting from just below her breasts, pushing them forward beneath the woven shirt, and ending roughly above the belt line.
Her eyes adjusted, and she saw Ryan, lying in bed, his eyes on her. He was smiling.
"I submit to you, mistress," he said, and then rolled into her body.
He unbuckled his belt slowly, and then hers, and pressed himself against her body gently. He was not a rough lover. She did not move as he pressed in and gave her what he had. He drew his palm over her soft face, and she turned and kissed it as it passed.
Then he untied her, rolled away and it was silent. And they laid in bed until they fell asleep.
Norton pressed against Boslick's' face quickly, giving him a small vial.
"Portia is asleep. Put this against her nose quickly and silently. Do not wake her. Then proceed to the next room and do the same."
Boslick appeared to not comprehend, but he turned and moved into the room as instructed. Norton watched him go and then passed quickly from his view. He withdrew into another room that no one but him ever used. In it was the girl that Ryan had from the jungle, still tied and forgotten by most of the hunters already.
She looked up at his body, blinking, her eyes not used to the sudden light from the outside hallway. Norton quickly moved to the wall and passed his hand over it, the black cube extending from it. He passed his hand over it and then down to the tied girl on the floor, and the black cube morphed into a platform that she slowly rose on top of. When it was at a suitable height, he drew his hand forward and it moved, and he walked to the end of the room and opened a door.
The hallway he entered looked exactly like the one that he had just walked out of a moment ago, except that it was the mirror image. Everything was reversed; otherwise nothing was changed. Norton and the girl on the platform walked down the hallway until they reached a large door, and he passed through it. The door led into a very large deck that extended out into the jungle. There was a small railing, because the deck was elevated over the trees that grew next to the building. There were two people on the deck besides Norton and his captive.
"Good evening, Norton," said one of them. He was a large, muscular man, wearing the same gold hunter's shirt and uniform that Amanda wore. He spoke in a deep accent that betrayed his original home.
"Evening, John," said Norton.
"Excuse the mess," said John, looking down at the female captive on the floor. Norton looked down as well. She was tied quite roughly, and almost every opening of skin in the rope-work was covered in welts and bruises.
"That's fine," said Norton. "I brought back a captive from your side that managed to make it over. I'm not sure how she made it, but she belongs here."
John moved over to the girl on the platform slowly, his hulking body crashing to the floor with every step. He eyed the girl.
"I remember her," he said.
The girl gave out a moan into her gag and flinched away from the sight of John as he approached.
"Apparently she remembers you as well," said Norton.
"Ah, bollocks," said John. "See, this is why I made the deal, Norton. These girls, they are dead inside now. We've whipped them so hard they can't even stand on their own. Not that they were much to start with. Sluts, the lot of 'em, begging to be captured. Now they have no spunk. None of them want to escape. None of them even try to break free."
Norton nodded.
"See, we need fresh blood," said John. "You got all them gals over on the other side who've never been caught. Maybe some of 'em don't even like it. Well, that's something we'd all like for a change."
"I want payment up front," said Norton.
"Absolutely," said John, reaching into his back pocket. "Is there even a way off of this island?"
"There are means," said Norton. "But after we're done talking, I'm out."
"How long have you been here?" asked John, handing him papers.
"Too long," said Norton, looking out into the jungle, putting his hands on the rails. "I'm too old for this. I've been helping one side of men chase women and the other side of women chasing men and all in all, I can't do it any more. Not since he died and left it to you and Amanda."
"Well, now my half is yours," said John. "And I'll have enough money to spare, once I get that Amanda in my hands."
"The entire estate should be under for about four hours. I had a helper, his name is Boslick. You should let him have a little bit of fun, then dispose of him in whatever fashion you deem necessary."
"Very well," said John.
Ryan awoke with a start.
Air. Outside. Wind.
He rose up into a sitting position, his mind very much awake, looking around suddenly.
He was out in the jungle, alone. There was nothing around him. Footsteps were in the dirt around his body, and they were large footsteps.
He looked at the footsteps for a while before getting up and walking away from the clearing, searching for a vantage point to scan the surrounding area.
Amanda woke.
"Wait," she said, the word falling out of her mouth as her mind blinked itself to life.
Chains. Chains. Ryan? No, he untied her, and they fell asleep, and then-
She was able to look then, so she looked down at her body. She was wrapped in medium sized chains, pulled securely and tightly against her body. Her shirt was ripped down the center, exposing her breasts, which pressed and extended against the chains. There was some sort of adhesive strip over her mouth, so she could not make any noise.
She was in the same room, propped up against the smooth wall. The chains were looped tightly but haphazardly down her entire body. She struggled against them for a bit, and they would not give. She rested and then struggled some more, pulling and pressing and pushing as much as she could.
Time elapsed. No one came. After struggling for what seemed like hours, she finally slumped and gave in to the bonds, hopeless.
"Well done, my dear," said an accented, deep voice.
Her head snapped up, looking around.
"No, I'm not in that room. But I have been watching you. You certainly lasted far longer than the rest of your girls."
The door opened, and a hulk of a man passed through, his body shuddering with every step.
"I hope you like those chains, my dear," he said. "Because you'll be in them a long time."
He smiled, and clapped his hands together.
"Let us begin."
She struggled one last time into the chains, and beads of sweat rolled down her arms and legs. The clothes hung as tight as a second skin. The man grabbed a chain and pulled her to her feet, and she was suddenly moved upwards. He used two hands to move her, still bound, to a chair. He placed her on the chair with a shove and grabbed more chain, looping it around the places he had not chained before, in addition to the chair itself. Then she was bound to the chair, and he hovered over her.
"My name is John," he said. "I'm a hunter from the male side of the island. I hope that my stay won't bother you too much."
He chuckled to himself.
"Yes, two sides, I was shocked too when I found out. Norton, by the way, sends his greetings. He knows you and I will have a wonderful time together."
And with that, John the male hunter extended his hand and propelled the black cube from the wall to his hand, and grinned at his prey.
Bits of information passed through the male camp over a period of a week. Screams and cries heard from the fortress. Odd shadows. One time one man claimed he saw Boslick in hunter garb, wandering on the balcony of the fort walls.
No hunters had appeared since Ryan woke in the forest. Only rumors and murmurings. Ryan knew something was going on. But what? He decided to find out.
"You can't break in," the jungle men told him. "It's impossible."
He ignored them and set out on his own. He figured, well, considering most men have never even been near the wall out of fear, how would they know?
So he went to the fortress and looked at the wall carefully. Its cold exterior showed no signs of weakness.
Up high. A vent!
Ryan went over to a nearby tree and climbed up it, carefully placing his feet on the tree's branches. Then he used the tallest branch and clung to it, making his way across the open air to the vent. Once he was able to reach it, he grabbed the vent cover and pried at it with his fingernails. It slid off without much jolting, and he dropped it into a brush so that it wouldn't make too loud of a noise. The vent opening was big enough for him, he noted, but it would be hard to turn around. This was a one way trip.
He breathed deeply and grabbed the sides of the vent carefully, and then with his feet on the branch he pushed himself into the vent. It was dark, but he could see light at some points far off. So he traveled, careful to not make too much noise. He went down slowly, unable to see much but the light up ahead.
The first source of light revealed a room. He looked into it through the grates on the paneling, and he could make out a naked female tied roughly to an upright post. He craned his neck to see her face. He recognized the victim as a hunter that roamed the jungle occasionally. why was she tied up like that? And naked, too?
A door opened in the room, and a man passed through. Big, far bigger than the rest of the men in the jungle.
"My love," he said to her. "It's time for your punishment for back talking to me earlier today."
She shifted more than once, madly into her bonds, but she did not say anything. Perhaps she couldn't. Ryan couldn't make out what was on her mouth.
The man picked up what appeared to be a black coil, and he wrapped it around his victim just below the belly button, under and across the privates. He tied it off and grabbed the other end, which had some sort of knob on it. He pressed the knob, and the coil suddenly turned bright yellow. The female writhed in pain against the post, turning this way and that into her bonds.
The man snorted and turned it off. The girl's head fell down.
"What, done already?" he asked. "No, I don't think you may have gotten the message quite yet."
And he turned the knob. Ryan couldn't watch any more, so he looked away and passed down the ventilation shaft.
The second room he passed betrayed a similar sight, though this time it was just the captive. She was in the corner, on the floor, inert. Her body was covered in bright red lines and bruises. Some of them looked like they might be scars.
Ryan passed to the next room. This one had a man tied to the wall in a spread eagle fashion. Ryan looked, and then recognized him – it was Boslick. How did he end up on that wall? Was Boslick working with these men, and did they betray him?
Ryan went on and saw more of the same. Each time, a female bound and gagged in some fashion, usually beaten and ruthlessly tortured by these large male hunters. Where did they come from?
Finally, Ryan reached the room he recognized – the room that Amanda kept him in for weeks. Its shiny, glass like walls and floor were hard to mistake. In the center of the room was a chair, and in that chair was a slumped figure. Ryan had only one guess, because he hadn't seen her elsewhere in the fortress.
He decided to act. He pushed the cover of the vent forward, and it popped off silently. Then he tipped it and brought it into the vent, and he set it down. Then he pulled himself out of the vent, head first, and used his arms to stop from falling. He gripped the sides of the vent carefully, and his instincts from his time in the jungle served him well. He dropped to the floor on his feet without a sound.
He approached the figure in the chair, and his guess was confirmed. Amanda. She was chained horribly to the chair. Her clothes were tattered and ripped in most places. She was covered in horrible lines and bruises all over her body, and in some places he saw caked blood.
She looked up at his face, her eyes filled with uncertainty. Then they opened wide.
Ryan heard footsteps, so he put his finger to his mouth, and then dropped his head to her ear.
"I will help you. But I won't set you free yet. Just wait."
He moved away, and Amanda blinked at him. Then she started jerking her head. He watched for a second before realizing that she was motioning to something. On the table, there was a vial. Recognition went into his brain. That very vial had been used on him before, each time by that old man that wandered around the fortress. A sleeping agent. He grabbed the vial and moved into the corner of the room, so that whoever opened the door, they would not be able to see him.
And, just as he slipped out of the way, the door opened. A different but equally large man passed through, striding through the room as well as he could with his meaty hands and feet.
"My dear Amanda," he said, clapping his hands together as he came into her view. His back was still to Ryan's corner. "Please just tell me what you've done with the funds. We can stop this silly little game, and all of your hunters will be safe again. Just give me what I want."
Ryan crept forward as Amanda locked onto his eyes.
"When this island was created, both of us, as the head hunters, received a fortune. I spent mine. In fact, I spent mine by giving it to Norton in return for you and your half of the island."
So that's what this is all about, thought Ryan. He moved forward even more, making sure not to make a sound.
"Just tell me where it is, or if you spent it already. I won't get angry."
Ryan was a few feet from the man. Amanda shook her head.
"Pity," said the man, turning to the table behind him. Ryan unplugged the vial and held it out to the man, and the man turned and looked at him for only a brief moment before his eyes rolled up to the ceiling and his body shuddered to the floor. The sound reverberated throughout the large glass-like room
Ryan wasted no time. He crossed over to Amanda and untied her, fumbling with the chains as his hands shook with the tension. She rose when he untied her from the chair, and then he dropped the chains from her body. Then he removed the adhesive from her mouth.
She looked deep into his eyes.
"I submit to you, master," she said. And he kissed her, deeply.
There was still work to be done, but Ryan quickly moved to find as many female hunters as he could free. Using his memory of the rooms around the fortress and its contents, he untied the female hunters and told them to sneak over to Amanda's glass room.
Eventually he had found six female hunters: tired and beaten, some of them naked, but angry and vicious. So they all took vials that Amanda took from a cabinet, and they fanned out in the fortress.
Amanda looked down at her captor, the largest man, with an odd expression on her face. Ryan couldn't understand it.
She noticed him watching her, and she smiled at him.
"I have plans for this man," she said. "Expect no mercy. He gave none to me."
John woke with a start. The last thing he remembered was a man with a vial- He was tied up. With chain. To a post. He could not move at all. A hood was around his head, and there was adhesive on his mouth.
"Hello, John," said a voice. Amanda? He had never heard her speak in the torture. Only screams.
He tried to talk. He could not. Just murmurs.
"In fact, hello to all of the male hunters. You are all in the same room, all tied to posts. You are now nothing."
John pulled against the chains as much as he could, but it was firm. They were big, thick heavy chains, and they were wrapped as tight as could be. They bit firmly into his skin.
"You should be thankful we are not as ruthless as you. However, considering the circumstances…well, you will find that your privates have been roped and coiled. You will also find that the knob controlling this torture device you used on us is now in the hands of your former female victims on the male side of the island."
John's stomach plummeted.
"We have allowed them to do whatever they please with you after we leave the room. They have many different tools of torture at their disposal. Rest assured, I and the rest of the female hunters will be taking in our fair share as well later on. And unlike us females, there will never be anyone on this island who will save you."
And a door opened and closed, and then the pain crept in from his privates, and John writhed in pain against the post, his mind a bottomless hole of agony and defeat.
Ryan laid in bed, testing the latest ropes about his body. Not too many, and yet, Amanda managed to keep him practically immobile.
She came over to the bed slowly, laid down next to him, and extended an arm over his abdomen.
"Here's to a new island of hunters," she said.
"Here's to", he said, and they kissed.
The Room Covered In Glass · Part 2 (2/2)
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