Posted by Extranjero on November 13, 2008 at 12:40:33:
The van came to a halt in the half-darkness. It waited, ticking over, while the six girls in the back stirred groggily. The sound of rain was loud in the interior. It rattled on the metal roof like hard machine gun fire.
Anna opened bleary eyes. Her fine blonde hairs were prickling. The noise was like a hundred harpies clawing to get in. The image faded as she woke, but the rain kept up its drumming. She was in a cramped and murky space, surrounded by dim shapes.
Her breasts felt pendulous without a bra constraining them. She hadn’t lost her knickers, but was naked otherwise. Her cheek was pressed against a smooth, bare shoulder. She raised her head and blinked befuddledly. A girl with long dark hair was slumped beside her. Her melon-heavy boobs were bare as well.
What the fuck …? thought Anna, with a pang of apprehension. She realised that she’d drunk too much. The hen night was a fuzzy memory. She tried to sit up straighter and her mind began to spiral. She lurched and clutched the dark girl’s arm. The brunette gave a moan.
Anna waited, blonde head bowed, until the world stopped spinning. The rain still hammered on the roof. She swallowed back the acrid taste of bile. Despite her misery, she was aware of sighs and stirrings. Her pallid fellow passengers were waking up as well.
“Wakey-wakey, ladies,” called a man’s voice from up front.
The leering interruption made her queasy stomach lurch. Her boobs tensed and the nipples stiffened. Oh my God, she thought, what’s going on? She glanced with nervous eyes towards the speaker; then startled like a rabbit as the side door clattered back. More light spilled in, as grey as old net curtains. A faceless figure in a parka stood there in the rain.
The girls recoiled, still dopey, as the glow revealed their bodies. Like Anna, they were nude apart from last night’s pulling-pants. Jenny’s blue eyes squinted through a tangle of dark hair. She pouted apprehensively and pressed her hands against her perky breasts. Beside her, Chelsea pulled a face like an affronted schoolgirl. She thought she’d scored again last night, and this came as a rude awakening.
The hooded figure jerked his head. “Come on,” he goaded them, “the water’s great.” The frightened girls just gawped at him. He lunged and seized the nearest by the arm. Rosie squealed in panic as he dragged her from the van, her cute features contorting woefully. She tried to struggle free, her wet breasts wobbling – and then the man released her, and she lurched and almost went down on her rump.
“Now shift your arses,” said the driver roughly, “or else I’m gonna screw the last one out.” Appalled, the girls stayed cowering for a moment, then forced themselves to slink into the rain. Kitty grimaced as she felt its coldness. She was a rather gawky teen, but her splendid tits offset her slender frame. Her straight brown hair turned stringy and she snivelled. The hooded figure ogled her, then thumped the vehicle’s side. “Come on, you sluts.”
Katie-Marie emerged into the downpour, her plump lip trembling as her skin was doused. Her chestnut mane grew gnarled around her shoulders. Anna followed, shuddering. It felt like walking into a cool shower. The summer morning air was dense and humid, and the rain might have refreshed her, if she hadn’t been scared stiff.
Thunder rumbled somewhere in the leaden murk above them. She felt her dampened hackles rise, as if a lightning bolt was poised to strike.
All the girls were outside now and huddled in the rain, expensive hairdos wilting as she watched. Anna’s own blonde hair was pinned back primly, but licks of it were coming loose and hanging in her eyes.
The side door rattled closed again, and the hooded man got in beside the driver. And then the van went trundling off, its taillights dwindling through the sheets of rain. “Hey!” squealed Chelsea, Essex voice pitched high with indignation. Her mane of golden hair was straggling down her naked back. The others looked on, dumbstruck with relief that turned to outrage. “You bastards,” muttered Rosie, on the very edge of tears.
The growling engine faded out. They heard more thunder grumbling. Jenny peered up miserably. “Oh shit, do you think we’re safe out here?” she whined.
“I’d stay away from trees,” said Anna flatly. “But we’ll get bloody pneumonia if we don’t find somewhere dry.”
The others watched her, blinking and bedraggled. None of them looked older than nineteen. Anna, all of twenty-three, felt suddenly protective, like an older sister having to take charge. “Come on,” she said and led them in the opposite direction. The ground on either side was flat, and she didn’t think this was a country road. More like a drive across a park or something. But the grey haze of the rain obscured what lay beyond the trees.
“Do you reckon they’ll be back?” asked Kitty hoarsely. Her chocolate-button eyes had hardened now. Her wide, full mouth was naturally smiley, but her nervousness gave her a sulky look.
“Maybe,” Anna muttered, glancing back the way they’d come. “I guess this is their idea of a joke.” She hugged herself. “Remind me not to get rat-arsed on hen nights!”
The brunette smiled crookedly. “Remind me not to let my drink get spiked.”
It turned out that the others had been partying as well, in different clubs – but no-one had a clue where they were now. Jenny had begun to cry, and Katie-Marie walked with her, one arm around her shoulders as she cooed encouragement. Rosie’s sopping chestnut bob made her look almost waiflike. Chelsea, on the other hand, was fuming like a petulant princess.
The rain had slackened to a prickly drizzle, but all of them were soaked, as if they’d just been for a swim. Anna’s briefs clung to her crotch and chafed uncomfortably. She’d never felt so wet and miserable. Tears were threatening to burst the dam of her resolve. But then, as she squinted through the rain, she glimpsed the gloomy outline of a house.
“Look!” she hissed. The others gathered round her. The building was a country mansion by the look of it. No lights showed at the windows, but the day had barely broken. “Thank God for that,” said Chelsea sullenly.
Katie-Marie looked horrified. “We can’t knock on their door like this,” she said. Anna would have balked herself in different circumstances, but now the prospect scarcely made her blush. Hugging her damp breasts, she shrugged her shoulders. “Would you rather catch your death out here?” she asked.
The brunette pouted back but didn’t argue. The others eyed the building with dismay. They were mortified, and Anna couldn’t blame them. No self-respecting girl would let herself be seen like this. But the dismal weather won over their shame and vanity, and reluctantly they started down the road.
Except for Jenny, who shrugged free of Katie-Marie. “I’m not going near that house,” she said. “It’s giving me the creeps.”
Anna threw a glance over her shoulder. “It’s not the bloody Bates Motel,” she said. Jenny chewed her lip, her pale eyes glaring. Her dark hair spilled like treacle round her face. “We need to find a proper road,” she muttered. “There’s something wrong about that place. We might be walking right into a trap.”
The other teenagers looked apprehensive. Anna scowled and scanned the house. It might have been abandoned to the rain. “Suit yourself,” she murmured, her big-sister instincts waning, “but I need to get somewhere warm and dry.” Straightening her back, she carried on towards the building, but Jenny hugged herself and stood her ground. The others hesitated, and then padded after Anna. Katie-Marie held out her hand, but Jenny shook her head determinedly.
Shivering and trying not to show it, she watched the girls approaching the dark house. The gnawing, creepy feeling didn’t leave her. The building’s unlit windows stared like eyes. Sidling off the road, she moved into the undergrowth. The house was quickly lost to sight, and she felt the tightness slacken round her chest.
Treading gingerly, she picked her way between the trees, not sure where she was headed, but intent on staying well clear of the house. Her soaked black panties made her feel as it she’d wet herself, and the silk bow at the back drooped soggily. The drizzle was turning into mist, distorting her surroundings. Soon she’d lost her bearings, but pushed onward, whimpering like a lost child.
Then a high stone wall materialised out of the greyness. The boundary of the house’s grounds. She peered up dolefully. It was much too high for her to climb, but there must be a gate somewhere. Jenny sniffed and wiped her cheek, then turned to follow it.
She came across the gate within five minutes. It was set into the wall and made of rusting iron bars. A path from the grounds let up to it, and disappeared into the woods beyond. She clutched the bars and rattled them. The gate was locked, of course.
“Fuck,” she sobbed and pressed her boobs against the cold black iron. Wreathed in mist, the outside world was close enough to touch. She shook the gate frustratedly and almost started crying. Then, as she leaned back, she glimpsed a white stone by her foot. Impulsively she crouched and turned it over. A key was lying under it. Her heartbeat gave a surge.
Straightening, she glanced over her shoulder, then wiped the wet hair from her eyes and tried to fit the key into the lock. It slid home on the third attempt, but then she couldn’t turn it. The gate might have been locked for years. The effort made her gym-toned biceps bulge. She gripped a bar to brace herself and gave the key a twist. It gave at last, the tumblers scraped – and Jenny earned herself a horrid death.
A lethal voltage gripped the gate, engulfing her wet body and transmitting white hot pain through every nerve. Jenny grunted, shuddering, her pretty face contorted. The current choked and blinded her. She writhed and thrust her breasts against the bars. More energy blazed through them and she grizzled through clenched teeth. A sticky sizzling came from her wet crotch. She squirmed in a convulsion, and the current was cut off. Jenny slumped like a rag doll, her panties wisping steam. Her body came to rest against the bottom of the gate, one slender arm hooked through the bars, as if still groping for the life beyond.
* * *
“It looks like no-one’s home,” said Anna, frowning.
“So why is it unlocked?” asked Kitty, dark eyes shifting like a nervous deer’s.
They were huddled in the hallway of the building. No-one had answered when they’d rung, though the bell had echoed dully through the house. Anna had tried the front door in frustration, and found that it was open, so the five of them crept warily inside. The space within was dim and cold. Dull light seeped through the windows. Rosie tried a light switch, but the chandeliers stayed dark.
At least it was a refuge from the drizzle. Anna led the way into the shadowy front room. The furniture was old and dark. She saw a glint of metal which resolved into a human shape. She stiffened with a gasp. But the shape was just an empty suit of armour. There were two of them, like sentinels on each side of the draughty fireplace. Her taut breasts sank as she breathed out, but her belly still felt hollow. There were dingy paintings on the walls, and mounted swords with pewter-coloured blades.
Katie-Marie went over to the window and peered across the misty, rain-washed grounds. “There’s got to be a phone somewhere,” whined Chelsea. Kitty drew a hissy breath. The spoilt blonde was getting on her nerves. She started poking round the gloomy parlour, while Rosie ventured out to search the hall. The tiles were glistening with their wet footprints, and the front door had been left ajar. The small girl wrapped her arms around herself.
“I’ll go look upstairs,” said Anna briskly. She felt a need to meet her fear head on. If she was bold, the others would keep looking up to her. But most of all, she had to have a wee.
She padded slowly up the staircase, through the spooky half-light. More suits of armour brooded in the upper passageway. She kept well clear of them, as if a part of her expected a steel gauntlet to reach out and pinch her bum. Trying the nearest door, she found a musty-smelling bedroom. The next door opened on a bathroom. Anna gave a small sigh of relief.
She peered around in vain for any towels. The room was spacious, clean and cold. Its gilded fittings looked quite colourless. She peeled her sopping panties off and wrung them, then slumped on to the toilet seat. Reaction hit her in a nauseous wave. Putting her head into her hands, she snivelled, shoulders trembling. She should be schmoozing clients now, not sitting naked on a stranger’s loo. Thank God none of the other girls had come upstairs with her. She had to chew her lip to keep from bursting into tears.
At length she got a grip and wiped her eyes, then sat back upright. Her pent-up pee still wanted out. She shifted on the seat and let it go. The last sound that she heard was its first splash into the bowl, because the water under her was full of volts.
The current flowed straight up her squirt of urine and flashed into her bladder, then went searing through her nerves. Anna bucked with shock and threw her head back, her tits thrust out and jiggling as she jerked. Her jaw locked in a grimace, trapping one long scream inside her, but a mewling sound escaped as she convulsed and ground her hips against the seat. A wisp of smoke curled upward from her puff of pubic hair. Then the current died beneath her, and her screaming mind went out like a blown bulb. Anna sagged against the wall and let her legs splay open. Her blonde head drooped on to one shoulder, and her arms slumped loose. Her urine kept on spurting for a moment, then dwindled to a dribble underneath her lolling corpse.
Katie-Marie stood listening at the top of the staircase. She’d forced herself to come upstairs and see if Anna wanted any help. The blonde girl had been gone a while, and the passageway was empty, but Katie-Marie had heard something: a shrill noise like a puppy whimpering. Now there was just silence, and she felt her hackles rising. The others were moving round downstairs, and she had an urge to scurry back to them. “Anna?” she called huskily, but Anna didn’t answer. The brunette cringed, not sure what she should do. It was Anna who had kept them all together. If something happened to her, then her fellow-victims would be really stuck.
She tiptoed forward, skirting round the gloomy suits of armour. One of the doors was just ajar. She peered through the crack. And there was Anna sprawling on the toilet. It looked as if she’d fainted. Katie-Marie went rushing in. The blonde’s fair skin had turned a pasty colour. Katie-Marie tried to help her up, but the other girl stayed floppy and inert. With a rising sense of panic, Katie-Marie felt for a pulse, but nothing beat in Anna’s throat, and her breast was limp against the brunette’s own.
Katie-Marie recoiled. Her big brown eyes were huge with horror. “Oh my God …” she bleated. Then a scraping sound came from the passageway. Katie-Marie looked round, her large breasts heaving. The noise had been like metal, but there was nothing she could see beyond the door. It struck her then that Anna should be given mouth-to-mouth, but you needed two people for that. She darted from the room.
One of the suits of armour was directly in her way. She almost cannoned into it, then realised stupidly that it had moved. Even as caught herself, she saw it raise its gauntlets. Her doe-eyes stared in disbelief, and then the metal fingers clutched her tits.
Her gasp of shock became a plaintive whinny as her boobs were squashed together like soft fruit. The pain brought tears to her eyes. She sobbed and tried to wriggle, and the gauntlets blazed with electricity.
The first surge of the current wasn’t lethal, but it sizzled through her body and she screamed in agony. The knight held on, implacable, a thumb against each nipple, and Katie-Marie squirmed wretchedly, her face a mask of woe. Her screams grew shriller as the charge dialled upward. They echoed through the house and petrified the girls downstairs. A final spike of current made her heart stop, and her head flipped back with an orgasmic grunt. Her body flopped against the knight’s cold breastplate, and the iron hands released their grip, revealing thumbprint blisters on each tit. Katie-Marie collapsed like a dropped raincoat. The suit of armour stayed immobile. Others had began to stir elsewhere.
The three surviving girls were in the parlour. They drew together fearfully and stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes. Then they heard a whirring noise behind them. Chelsea turned, and sucked in air, but found she couldn’t scream. The knights that flanked the fireplace were moving, as clumsily as clockwork toys. The floorboards creaked beneath their shifting weight. The pair of them began to shuffle forward, their gauntlets groping out like blind men’s hands. Chelsea backed away from them and blundered into Kitty. The gawky girl seemed mesmerised. “Oh God,” wailed Rosie, “let’s get out of here.”
“Fuck this,” said Kitty suddenly. Her green eyes flashed with fury. She darted to the facing wall and grabbed one of the medieval swords. It came free of its mounting and she stumbled back with it, then swung around, her biceps bulging as she raised the blade.
“Run for it,” she snapped. The others wavered for a moment, unwilling to abandon her despite their rising dread. One of the clanking suits of armour picked up Kitty’s presence and started to advance on her. She quailed and gripped the sword hilt with both hands. But then her feisty anger started boiling up again. “Fuck off!” she snarled and lunged towards the knight. She swung the blade with all her strength and it clanged against the armour. The impact quivered through her breasts and sent her reeling back. But the robot seemed to lurch as well, and lumbered to a standstill. Kitty backed off, panting, and the sword blade scraped the floor.
She heard the motor grinding in its torso. Chelsea and Rosie backed away, then scuttled from the room. Kitty moved to cover them, her tits still heaving tautly. She hefted the big sword again and shook a hank of wet hair from her eyes. The knight resumed its slow advance towards her. She glowered like a cornered vixen, then cried out and aimed another blow.
The long blade struck the knight between its shoulder-piece and breastplate, but instead of glancing off, it wedged itself into the joint. Kitty winced, then bared her teeth and tried to free the weapon. There was a sudden crackling noise, and electricity seared down the blade. Kitty screamed with pain and threw her head back. The sword felt white hot in her grasp, but her fingers had locked tight around the hilt. She writhed convulsively and stuck her tits out; the nipples bulged as if about to burst. Her shriek pursued the others as they fled through the front door, then died in Kitty’s straining throat as her body juddered with the current’s flow. A cloud of smoke and sparks came from the robot, and then the voltage was cut off, and Kitty’s fingers uncurled from the hilt. Her body crumpled like an unstrung puppet. The robot stayed there, smouldering, the sword protruding from its shoulder joint.
Rosie and Chelsea ran down the front steps towards the drive. The rain was barely prickling now, but the mist turned the surroundings to a blur. Chelsea gasped to get her breath, her eyes hysterical. Rosie seized the blonde girl’s hand. “Come on,” she sobbed, “we’re getting out of this.” Even as she spoke, she glimpsed a figure in the driveway, and whimpered as she saw it was a knight. The armoured shape lurched heavily towards them. Terrified, the girls fled round the grim bulk of the house. The gardens were engulfed in mist, and statues loomed like spectres. They heard a muffled clanking noise from somewhere up ahead. Rosie came up short and Chelsea clung to her bare shoulder. There was another robot moving round in search of them. Rosie glanced around in wide-eyed panic, then saw the house’s swimming pool amid the shrubbery. Impulsively she towed Chelsea towards it. The water looked as dull as lead. “We’ve got to keep our heads down,” Rosie hissed.
She shuddered as she slid into the water. Its coldness gave her gooseflesh, and her nipples went rock hard. Chelsea eased down gingerly beside her and drew her breath in sharply. Both girls sank into a crouch. The water lapped around their upturned faces as they huddled close and listened for the knight. Rosie had to grit her teeth to stop them chattering. She didn’t think she’d ever been so cold.
They heard the armoured figure moving closer, its joints squeaking with every dragging step. Chelsea’s frozen muscles had gone rigid. She couldn’t see the robot, but she realised it was right beside the pool. It halted there above her, and she held on tight to Rosie. The helmet-head whirred left and right. She wondered if the thing could hear her heart. After an unnerving pause, it moved on down the poolside. Rosie briefly closed her eyes. The surface rippled as the thin rain fell.
Suddenly they heard the robot stumble. Chelsea turned her head and gawped. The thing had overbalanced on the edge. She watched it toppling towards the water. “Look out!” she squealed, then cowered from the impact’s stinging splash. The robot’s limbs worked stiffly as it went straight to the bottom. The two girls floundered clear of it, then waded frantically for the far end.
A bluish flash lit up the churning water. It caught the fleeing pair waist-deep and filled them both with paralysing pain. Rosie and Chelsea screamed in a duet of agony; it felt as if the freezing pool was coming to the boil. They arched their backs and thrust their breasts out, squirming helplessly, as the current blazed into their pussies through their soggy briefs. They writhed until the sunken knight stopped sizzling, then both girls flopped face down to float in silence, side by side.
Stillness fell across the house and gardens. The suits of armour powered down, and those traps left untriggered were turned off. The acrid smoke was fading from the parlour. The electrocuted cuties stayed inert where they had dropped.
One
of the men who’d snatched them ambled out into the drizzle. He checked
the last two girls were dead, then flicked open his phone and called a
friend. “We picked up six hot babes last night,” he boasted. “A bunch
of real sizzlers, actually …”