House of Hell

The cumbersome nature of Christine’s mittens very quickly became apparent.  Simple tasks she had once carried out unthinkingly were now suddenly beyond her.  The handle to her cell door was the current case in point.  She’d heard the familiar mechanical click that signalled the door had been unlocked for the day, but for the life of her, she couldn’t get her immobilized hands to grip the round door knob properly. 

She spent several minutes trying in vain to gain some sort of purchase between her two fists, but then the door opened from outside.  It swung open to reveal Samantha’s tear streaked face.  The two women silently considered one another for a moment. 

Samantha stood naked but for the prosthetic pig snout that had been glued to her face.  Christine couldn’t help but stare at the disfiguring monstrosity.  In one respect, it was a work of art.  The colour of the silicone cunningly matched Samantha’s complexion perfectly and it was hard to pick where the fake nose stopped, and Samantha’s real face started. 

The visual impact of the appendage was drastic.  Ordinarily, Samantha was an attractive girl, if somewhat plump.  While she didn’t possess model-like qualities, she had that girl-next-door appeal.  Big blue eyes, broad smile, waves of shoulder length blonde hair and button nose.  The addition of the fat oval nose, with its prominent nostrils, completely altered her appearance in a way that dramatically detracted from her cute look.  Looking at the nose, Christine had flashbacks to the previous evening.  She remembered watching Mister Black’s rigid length pull out of Samantha’s throat and spit globules of mucousy sperm all over the blonde’s face.  “That’s my cum-guzzling piglet,” he’d taunted as he wiped the head of his cock on her new pig nose.

It was clear Samantha wasn’t happy with the appendage.  Her eyes were bloodshot, and there were trails of dried tears running down her cheeks.  Christine guessed the blonde had spent much of last night weeping, probably prodding and tugging the nose, only to find the surgical spirit glue made it a permanent addition to her face.

Christine for her part felt almost as pathetic as Samantha looked.  Careful experimentation with her mittens overnight had realised her worst fears.  There was no way to remove them, and she had lost all but the most rudimentary use of her hands. 

She imagined she must look a sight as she stood in the doorway still partly dressed in yesterday’s pink baby girl dress.  She’d only managed to remove her bonnet, booties and socks by herself, but without fingers, removing the dress or diaper had been impossible.

Samantha ushered Christine back into her room.  “Come on, I’ll help you.”  She said quietly.  Christine stood still as Samantha unzipped her dress and let it fall to the ground. 

---

Little was said between the two as Samantha helped Christine prepare for the day.  For the silence, Christine was grateful.  It was deeply embarrassing for her to have her friend have to wash her, shave her, give her an enema and carry out all the tasks she’d ordinarily carry out herself.  She felt entirely helpless and increasingly frustrated as Samantha helped her dress. 

Eventually Christine couldn’t help but comment on Samantha’s nose.  She was lying on her bed, with her hips in the air as Samantha pulled a fresh diaper under her.  “It’s not that bad you know.  It’s still you underneath.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”  Samantha replied sharply. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be.  On balance, I’d rather be me than you right now.”

“What does that mean?”  Christine responded.

“I mean, this thing is annoying,” she prodded the silicone nose, “I can’t get used to seeing this blob out of the corner of my eye all the time, but it’s just a thing.  You?  I don’t know how you’re going to handle this.  I mean, I’ll help you as much as I can, but…”

“What?”  Christine asked.

“It’s not fair what they’re doing to you.”  Samantha remained silent for a few moments, thinking:  “I mean, this is okay, you and I, well we… you know.  But imagine if you had to rely on School or Rubber for this.  And I might not be here forever.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Well I might not be.  Not forever.”

“But you are now.  Thank you for helping me.”  Christine said kindly as Samantha pulled a pair of pink crinkling plastic pants over her ubiquitous diaper.  “I suppose I had better get that on.”  She pointed toward the hideous creation in the wardrobe.

“Oh come on, it’s an improvement over yesterday.”  Christine shuddered at the memory of her “Baby-Girl Arse Slut” dress, and the events it had foretold.

She helped as much as she could in the circumstances.  This consisted of standing still with her arms in the air.  Samantha pulled the pink cotton onesie down over Christine’s head.  It had a scalloped neckline and short sleeves.  In light-pink thread, a pair of ballet shoes had been embroidered on the chest, the motif was accompanied by a taffeta tutu that jutted out about her hips.  Dangling from a ribbon attached to one shoulder was an adult sized pacifier.  Samantha pulled the ballet themed onesie down and struggled to close the snaps about Christine’s diaper padded crotch. 

Soft pink satin ballet slippers with delicate bows on their toes adorned her feet.  The finishing touches to Christine’s new outfit were a pink hair ribbon and a pair of fairy wings. 

“Okay.  That’s done.” Samantha said.  She seemed pensive.

“What’s wrong?”  Christine asked.

“Nothing and everything.”  Samantha sighed.  “There’s too much going on in my head.  I needed you last night.  I sat in my room, with this thing, and I just cried.  I don’t think I slept much.  Just a few minutes here and there.  I kept waking up thinking this was all a nightmare, only to realise it’s not.  It’s our reality. 

“It sounds stupid, but the nights are the only time I feel even slightly free.  There’s no arseholes.  I can get out of that fucking white outfit.  I’m free.  But this thing on my nose.  It doesn’t come off.  It’s like a constant reminder.  And I dread what it means.  Black’s not going to stop with just this.  He’s got something in mind, some new theme about pigs and quite frankly I’m scared out of my wits. 

“The only thing that kept me slightly sane was thinking of you.  But then I kept thinking about what they’re doing to you and what you were feeling and thinking.  Whether you were sleeping.  Whether you were awake.”

“Mostly I just sat there listening to Rubber moaning.  Trying not to think about weeing myself.”  Christine said quietly. 

“Oh.”

“So far, so good.”  She smiled.  Samantha smiled slightly back.  Christine extended her arms and the two of them hugged. 

“I needed you last night.”  Samantha whispered in Christine’s ear. 

“I needed you too.”  Christine admitted.

“Tonight, I’ll see if I can sneak in.”  Christine felt Samantha’s breath against her ear.  It was the most sensuous feeling.  In her arms was the only thing that she felt was keeping her sane.  She felt Samantha’s soft flesh beneath her fingers, and it made her feel… she couldn’t put her finger on it.  But everything felt just a little bit better.

“Stay strong today.”  Samantha added, “Stay strong for me.”

“You too.”  Christine responded.  They exchanged a modest but heart-felt kiss.  “Come on, you need to get ready or else there will be trouble.  Well, avoidable trouble...”

---

The morning routine was now well established for Christine.  Bathroom, dress, eat, get in line for inspection.  She had a quick chat with School over the breakfast table.  Rubber’s overnight session in the punishment cell had been less horrific than Mister Black had hoped for.  Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to rig the mechanical fucking machine with the studded dildo in the way envisaged.  Nevertheless, the spiked suction cups had been nasty enough, but it was nothing that Rubber couldn’t handle. 

What had infuriated Christine however, was that School now claimed she’d deliberately devised the scenario to fail.  Christine thought her claim bogus, and that School was just bragging.  While Christine felt empathy for all her fellow captives, she liked School the least.  It was snarky little comments like this one and the girl’s air of superiority that tended to annoy her most. 

But on the other hand, she was happy to hear that Rubber had come through largely unscathed.

Another added mitten-related humiliation had also revealed itself over breakfast.  No fingers meant no cutlery, but Mister White had obviously thought of this.  Sitting on the table awaiting her arrival had been three full baby bottles and a note.

“Dear little Lollie, Daddy has kindly prepared some lovely Ba Ba’s for you.  Drink up little one!  I expect to see three empty bottles when you’re finished.” 

There was no need to add any threat.  It was implied and Christine knew exactly what would befall her if she didn’t meet White’s expectations.

She dreaded the thought of more sodomy.  Her anus was, by now, a constant source of aching pain.  It wasn’t just the pain of being invaded behind that she despised.  It was the humiliation of being forced into such a filthy and degrading act.  Most of all, she hated the feeling of his sperm seeping out of her afterwards. 

The rubbery nipple on the end of the bottle felt alien in her mouth, but the liquid didn’t taste all that bad.

Midway through her second bottle, Rubber appeared, or at least Christine guessed it was Rubber.  Christine performed a double take as she watched the mannequin like object walk slightly stiffly across the room.  Gone was Rubber’s traditional glistening black latex maid’s outfit.  It had been replaced by something entirely different.  She remained cocooned in rubber, but now she resembled a cheap sex doll.  A single flesh-coloured piece covered her from head to toe.  A cheap brown wig sat atop her head.  The face on the mask was painted on, with wide open blue eyes, and a surprised “O” shaped mouth.  Small pin prick holes existed for Rubber to see out of and to allow her to breath through her nose.  Her wide open mouth however, was filled with a rubber sheath.  Similarly, her anus appeared to be filled with a hot-pink coloured sheath accompanied by two small valves. 

Her vaginal mound however was completely smooth, it reminded Christine of a barbie doll.  Her breasts were ridiculous:  clearly inflated, they stuck out from her chest like a comic representation of mammary glands.  She wore gaudy plastic stripper heels on her feet, with six inch heels and a three inch clear-Perspex platform.

School sat back, similarly surprised.

“That’s new.”

Rubber nodded.  “I ounn ih in a ordro.”  She still wore her ring gag beneath the rubber mask.

“In your wardrobe?”  School asked.

“Es.”  She nodded.

School closed her eyes and shook her head.  “This is bad.  I have no idea, but I’m sure it’s bad.”

---

It was White who carried out the morning inspection.  He spent a deal of time investigating Rubber’s skin-coloured body suit with particular attention paid to her sheathed orifices.  “Now this is what I call a Rubber Fuck-Doll.”  He opined.  “You’ll be happy to know we have plans for you this afternoon.  You’ll present yourself in the Playroom after chores.  Understood?”  Having passed his order on, White walked slowly down the line. 

He stopped in front of School, looking her up and down.  Dressed in a tartan dress over a white blouse, her hemline failed to entirely cover her regulation blue bloomers.  White looked down at the mirrored perfection of School’s patent Mary Janes:  “Your shoes are scuffed Slut.”

“Sir?  I don’t believe they are.  I polished them properly Mister White, Sir.”

White lifted his own foot, pressing the bottom of his shoe on top of School’s pristine footwear.  When he removed his foot, there was a clear scuff mark across the top of her toe. 

“Really?  Well I see scuffs.”

School’s eyes flashed in anger.  A loaded silence hung over the room as everyone waited to see if School’s notorious temper would get the better of her.  But the moment passed and she slowly swallowed.  “I’m sorry Sir.”

“What’s the penalty for Sluts that don’t take proper care of their appearance?”

“A strapping sir.”  She answered solemnly.

“Six I think.  On the cunt.  After chores.”

“Yes sir.  Thank you sir.”

“And you slut.”  He moved on to Pain.  “I like your nose.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Get on the ground slut, like the pig you are.”  Samantha quietly got on to her knees.  “On all fours.  That’s right.  Now grunt like a pig, Slut.”

Samantha grunted. 

“Not good enough.  Do it properly.”

She did so, a little louder this time.  “That’s better.  I expect to see you on all fours in my presence.  And when spoken to, I’ll hear a squeal or a grunt at the beginning and end of every sentence.  Do you understand?”

“Nnngghh.  Yes Sir.  Nnnnnngh.” 

Christine closed her eyes, trying not to watch the Samantha degrade herself so horridly.

“Ah, my little poppet,”  White leered.  “You’ve let your binky fall out of your mouth.  Let Daddy fix it.”  He picked up the pacifier that hung from her dress and popped it in her mouth.  “Has my widdle baby girl wet herself yet?”  She shook her head as he slipped his hand in through the leg hole of her onesie and beneath her plastic pants and cloth diaper.  “All dry.  Well I doubt that will last long.

“Did you drink all your breakfast.”  Christine nodded.  “What about your jammies.  Did you wear you’re pretty jim-jams last night?”  He asked kindly.

Christine’s face flushed white with fear.  Of course she hadn’t worn the footed flannel sleeper!  Encased in the mittens, she’d not been able to get her day clothes off, let alone climb into and zip up the infernal sleeper.  She shook her head.

“Oh dear…  So you didn’t wear your sleeper to bed like Daddy asked?”  She slowly shook her head. 

“Now poppet.  What did Daddy say would happen if you didn’t wear your sleeper.” 

She spat the pacifier out of her mouth to answer.

“Did I say you could spit that out?”  He asked sternly.

“No Daddy.”

“No, I did not.  Your binky stays in your mouth unless an adult takes it out.  Is that clear?” 

“Yes Daddy.”

“Now, you can keep it out for a moment.  What’s the penalty for not sleeping in the pretty sleeper Daddy bought for his little Princess.”

Christine’s throat swelled up.  “Miss Bum-Bum,” she choked out.

“Yes?”  He asked patiently.

Memories of White’s unlubricated and rubber enhanced cock tearing through her bottom swelled in her mind.  So too did the litany she’d been forced to repeat to avoid the horrid ordeal again.

Hating every part of herself, Christine turned around and bent over.  She placed her pink mittens on either globe of her diaper-encased bottom and heard herself utter the terrible words:  “Please Daddy, Miss Bum-Bum needs Mister Winky inside her.”  A single tear splashed on the cold concrete floor of the common room.

“Over the table.”  White ordered.

Christine shuffled to the table.  An apple swelled up in her throat as she leant over the remains on the breakfast table.  “You look adorable.  My favourite baby-girl.”  White said as he unsnapped the crotch on her onesie.  He pushed her plastic pants down until they fell to her ankles.  She felt a waft of air as he pulled apart the Velcro tabs of her cloth diaper.  A smell of talcum powder and baby oil met her nostrils.

White ceremoniously unzipped his fly and extracted his dick.  He rubbed lubricant down his length and milked himself to hardness.

“Now I know that little babys can’t dress themselves.”  His cockhead touched her bottom.  She flinched.  “But little Lollie must wear her sleeper to bed.  You can’t sleep in your clothes, you’ll ruin them.”  He pushed his cock against her.  She snuffled in discomfort as she felt her bottom yield to him.  Her stomach roiled as his length sank into her.

“You just need to ask an adult to dress you Pumpkin.”  She whimpered gently as White slowly fed his thick length into her bottom.

“Now, while little Lollie’s Bum-Bum is playing with Mister Winky, it’s a good time to explain a couple of changes.”  White addressed the broader room.  Christine looked up through tear stained eyes to see her three colleagues watching on in their own fashion.  Rubber’s face was a mystery behind the fuck-doll mask.  School looked marginally bored.  Samantha looked on in open sympathy.

“Lolita’s new accoutrements will unfortunately prevent her from assisting with chores.  That said, Rubber Slut’s latest ensemble is a little less restrictive than the maid outfit.  So our expectations are that the three of you will continue to strip down this floor and downstairs and clean it from top to bottom every day.  Any drop in cleaning standards will be met with the prison strap and will be shared by all of you, Lolita included.

“When you go downstairs, you will find some changes.  We can’t very well have my little Princess left to her own devices while you do your chores, so we have set up a play pen for her.”  White began to pick up pace.  Christine shuddered as his thick weapon stretched her poor tiny bottom hole.  The feeling of his thick, veiny old dick thrusting itself into her was dreadful.

“You are each also responsible for looking after your little baby sister.  She is to be given a bottle every hour.  I don’t care if you take turns or whatever, but if I check the CCTV footage and find she’s not getting her bottle on the hour, every hour, I will take it out of your hides.

“Eventually, she will need changing.”

He dropped his voice slightly and leant down to speak in her ear, “You’ll want to listen carefully to this bit my favourite little baby-girl arse slut.”

“When she does need changing, you will wait at least an hour before doing so.  I don’t care if she cries, begs or wails, but she is not to be changed immediately.  I want her sitting there in her sopping urine-soaked diaper.  I want her to feel her piss go cold.  I want the soaked material rubbing into her soft little cleft, thoroughly marinating her naughty parts.”  Christine felt his cock swell inside her and she sobbed loudly as an eruption of sperm launch into her bowels.

---

The playroom was ominously silent.  Each of the girls dourly carried out her respective tasks, with the exception of Christine.

Miserable, she sat in the play pen, her arms pulled around her knees, pacifier in her mouth.  She watched on enviously as her fellow captives busied themselves with work.  For her:  she had nothing to do except sit up against the bars of her pen, thinking and imagining. 

Mostly she was thinking about her bladder.  Five minutes ago, School had brought her the third bottle of the morning.  Together with the three she’d had at breakfast, she worked out she’d drunk almost three litres of liquid. 

The worst part was not knowing.  Mister Green had explained what they’d done to her, but she still had no idea what to expect.  Would she feel the need to go first?  Would the pressure build until she couldn’t stop?  Or what?  At present, she just felt full. 

She shifted about on her bottom. 

No, maybe the worst part wasn’t the not knowing.  Maybe the worst part was understanding what awaited her.  At some point, maybe in the next hour or two, she was going to wee in her pants.  She needed to accept that.  But afterward, she was going to be left sitting in her wet diaper.

But for now she sat in her play pen.  Dry.  Squirming, as she felt the need to pee slowly increase. 

One thing was niggling Christine.  She remembered Mister Green lecturing her about diaper rash and the need to keep herself clean and dry.  She already had a modest case.  Over the past several days she’d noticed it slowly spreading as she’d spent elongated periods in damp and wet diapers.  The skin over her labia and between her legs had first exhibited a few prickly red spots.  Spots had become blotches which were now coming together in solid red rash.  The skin appeared puffy and felt hot to the touch.  It chaffed and was deeply uncomfortable, particularly in the terry cloth diapers that she sometimes had to wear.  The plain cloth ones with the velcro tabs (like the one she wore at the moment) were better.  But on balance, she’d thought the rash the least of her worries.  But facing the prospect of being left for hours at a time in wet diapers, she worried it could get worse.  Just one more misery to add to her ever growing list.

She tried to distract herself by looking about.  A broad selection of toddler toys had been placed in the pen.  There were soft toys, a piano with its keys painted in primary colours, a fake flip phone, and a plastic cone with a series of brightly coloured rings on it.  Christine had no intention of touching any of them.  Not that she could use her hands meaningfully anyway. 

The concrete floor of the pen had been covered with a mat made up of interlocking foam pieces that displayed different letters of the alphabet.  There was enough floor area for 16 of the brightly coloured pieces, making for a 4 x 4 square.  Not one to miss a trick, Mister White had cleverly pieced the pieces together so they read:

B  A  B  Y

G  I  R  L

A  R  S  E

S  L  U  T

Under any other circumstance, it might have been funny…

She really needed to go now.  She twisted about on the floor again, but no position gave her any relief.  Then, without any warning, it just happened. 

Christine’s eyes widened in horror:  one moment she was sitting in the corner of her pen, feeling the need to go, trying to hold on, and then she felt a trickle.  Just a trickle.  She automatically tried to pull her muscles in harder, but it had absolutely no effect.  Time slowed to a crawl.  The trickle quickly became a stream.  This was completely unlike the catheter, which had constantly dripped and dripped, slowly making her wetter.  Now she felt the stream slowly fill the soft cloth between her legs.  She clamped down harder, but it changed nothing.  The stream kept coming, saturating her.  She thrust a fist to her crotch in a vain effort to stop herself. 

“No, this can’t be happening.”  She told herself.  “It won’t stop.”

At this point, Samantha happened to glance across the room toward Christine.  She saw the look of horror on her girlfriend’s face as she thrust her fist into her crotch.  Samantha’s eyes closed in empathy… her bottom lip quivering.  After her various talks with Christine, she knew how terrible this particular moment must be for her friend.  Of all the torments, humiliations and tortures that the sadists had inflicted on her, from the enemas, to the clothing, to the sodomy; she knew that Christine’s greatest fear was being left permanently incontinent.  She felt her own heart break as she saw Christine realise that very moment.

For Christine’s part, the horror of feeling her bladder release itself uncontrollably into her diaper was profound.  Worse:  now she came to an even more humiliating conclusion.  She couldn’t stop the stream, no matter how hard she tried.  But it was no more than a modest stream and given the amount of water she’d drunk, she knew that if she continued, she’d keep going for minutes. 

At some point she gave up trying to hold on any further.  The stream became a flood and in moments her diaper was entirely soaked.  Warmth spread through her crotch and in between the cheeks of her bottom.  At some point, the diaper reached saturation, and she soon felt a little liquid seep into her plastic pants.

School had now stopped her work as well.

“Remember, we’re not to change her for an hour.  I’ve already got six with the strap coming, I’m not planning on getting any more.”

“How are we going to tell when an hour’s up?”  Samantha asked.

“I’m not guessing.”  School suggested.  “We’ll just have to wait longer to make sure.”

“No way, we can’t just leave her there for any longer than we have to.”

Christine spat her pacifier out, “Hey, I am here you know, you can talk to me directly.”

“Sorry Lolita,” School apologised. 

“No, you’re okay.  I understand.  Just wait as long as you think you need to.  I’ll be fine.”  She said empty-hearted.  She didn’t enjoy the prospect of sitting in her soaked diaper for any longer than absolutely necessary, but she understood School’s concerns.  It wouldn’t be fair for all of them to get extra straps for the sake her spending a couple of extra minutes in a wet diaper.

Suddenly the bud in her ear came to life.  “I’ll let you all know.  I’ve put a timer on.”  Sophie told them all. 

Christine looked up to the ceiling.  “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.  I feel so helpless watching you all.”

“I’ve always wondered,” School said out loud.  “What exactly is it that you do?  I mean, apart from setting timers?”

“I don’t know that I appreciate your tone School.”  Sophie replied, the earphone’s picking up Sophie’s annoyance.

“Why not?  Seems to me you’re part of the problem around here.  You got out.  You’re free.  You could do something about all this.  Instead you just  do whatever it is that they’ve got you doing, spying on us and occasionally offering up your pearls of wisdom: ‘Don’t struggle’, ‘Do what they say’.”

“School…” Samantha interrupted.  “Is this really helpful?”

“Shut up.  This is between me and her.

“So:  Sophie, have you got anything to add?  Or shall we just wait for your next valuable contribution?  Maybe you can let us know what’s for dinner or something just as useful.  Instead of – you know – maybe visiting the cops and getting us out of here.”  School’s face was getting redder.

“You really don’t get it, do you School?”  Sophie said calmly.  “Who do you think these people are?  Who do you think could arrange the abduction of dozens of young women, hide them, make sure that the authorities never get close, and then, when they get bored with one of you, arrange for them to be relocated, give them a new identity and enough money to keep their mouths shut for the rest of their lives?

“It’s not hard if you think about it, but then that would mean you’d have to think for more than three seconds and not lose your temper.”  School’s mouth slowly closed.

“But to answer your question,” Sophie continued, “I do the admin.  I watch the CCTV.  I turn the footage into DVD’s so the pervs can whack off in their spare time.  I keep an eye on you and I help out where I can, not that I can do all that much mind you. 

“But if you think I haven’t thought of every possible way I might save you from what I went through myself, then you have no idea what it’s like being me.  Trying to sleep every night but waking in a cold sweat remembering every day in crystal-clear Technicolor?  Do you think I want to do this?  Subject myself to having to watch all this?  I could be like the others and just disappear back into something like a normal life.  But if there’s anything I can do to make your lives just a little bit more bearable, then I‘ll do it.  If that means I keep an alarm so you can get Lolita out of a wet diaper just a few minutes earlier, then I’ve done something positive.  Or erasing certain parts of the CCTV footage that might cause some trouble.  Like maybe the footage that shows where particular people sleep each night… School.”  She stressed School’s name.

“What do you think would happen if they found out about the two of you?  Well it’s me that keeps them from finding out.  Thirty seconds gone here, thirty seconds there, and suddenly it looks like you both stayed in your own rooms.

“So, why don’t you get off my case and shut the fuck up.”  Sophie cut off her microphone.

Silence echoed through the room.  Samantha looked across at School.  Unable to meet her stare, the tartan clad redhead turned back to her chores.

---

The morning waned into afternoon.  Christine was gratefully changed by a chastened School, who in a move typically out-of-character, freely offered to carry out the unpleasant task.  Bottle after bottle continued to come to her each and every hour.  The girls disappeared upstairs to finish their chores, leaving Christine to sit idly in the play pen with nothing to see or do. 

At one point, the playpen’s toys beckoned.  She considered that anything that might break up the monotony would be welcome rather than waiting around in the pen.  But she remained resolved not to touch the things.  She looked at her mittens again, for what seemed like the hundredth time, just in case something had miraculously changed that would allow her to get the dreadful things off.  She thought about climbing out of the pen to find out what the others were doing.  But she knew if she were caught there would be trouble.  Another bottle came.  It was Rubber this time who brought it to her.  She waited wordlessly until it was finished and then pushed Christine’s pacifier back into her mouth.  Even that minor task was an ordeal with the mittens.

It was about half way between bottles when Mister White and Mister Green both appeared.  They looked across at Christine as they passed through the playroom.  White stopped for a moment, looked her up and down, grinned lustfully, and then followed Green up the stairs to the bedroom level. 

Minutes later Christine heard the slapping of leather on flesh and a deep scream.  School was getting her thrashing.  Five more screams followed.  Then some low moaning and muffled voices.  Then there were another six blows with accompanying screams.  School must have said or done something to make her punishment worse.

Christine felt the beginning of complaints from her bladder.  She crossed her legs. 

Time passed.

Slowly.

White and Green reappeared from above.  This time with Rubber in tow.  And at almost the same time, Black arrived from downstairs. 

Rubber was manhandled onto the solid wooden chair that dominated the centre of the room.  She was placed on it in a position very familiar to Christine.  Her knees on the seat, and splayed wide apart, her hands placed on the seat back.  Green strapped her knees to the arm rests and her wrists to the back rest.  He followed with further straps around her ankles and neck that immobilized her completely.

“Unusual precautions for a fuck doll, but we don’t want you moving around too much.”  Black explained. 

Green stepped in front of Rubber and unzipped his pants.  Rubber’s mouth was at just the right height.  “You must be wondering what this all means?”  Green asked Rubber as he slid his flaccid cock into Rubber’s waiting mouth. 

“Your skills as a maid leave much to be desired.  And with your cunt off limits, well, it got us thinking.  What good’s a cunt-less maid?  Not much.  Hence your new role?  Any idea what that might be?”  Green asked rhetorically.

“You’re to be our new Fuck doll.  At least until your cunt re-opens for business.  That should be in about a week or so.  At which time, I don’t mind letting you know, I’ve got some very special plans for you.  But in the meantime, in the spirit of scientific inquiry, we’ve decided to run a little experiment.”

Christine saw Mister Black pull a bicycle pump out of one of the playroom’s sex toy cupboards.  The pump was attached to one of the valves on Rubber’s bottom.  He gave it a single pump, and even though her mouth was stuffed with Green’s hardening cock, Christine heard Rubber inhale sharply.

“What you just felt was Mister Black inflating the rubber ring in your anal sheath.  Another pump or two Mister Black.”  Rubber moaned more loudly.  “As you can start to tell, it’s stretching your anal sphincter open.  As Mister Black keeps pumping – please Mister Black, a few more – it’s going to expand so that your anus is held wide open.  I’m sure it’s most uncomfortable, but it will make it easier for us to enter you.”

“I think that’s about it.”  Black advised. 

Christine’s pen was only a few feet away from the massive chair.  Happy not to be the centre of attention, she watched on in curiosity and disgust.  The rubber ring that Mister Green had mentioned looked like a donut, about two inches in diameter, leaving an inch wide hole in its centre.  Black detached the pump, and then reattached it to the second valve.

“Now this will take a bit longer.”  Green advised, “That’s because the second bladder behind the ring is longer.”  Black kept on pumping.

“This part is far more interesting.  Imagine a tapered, inflatable cylinder – narrower at the entrance than the back and open ended.  Ah, you are wondering why?  Well it’s all a part of our experiment. 

“The question we are seeking to answer is exactly how much cum can your bowels hold?  With its narrow entrance, stuff can go in your arse, but it can’t go out.  And of course, because of its width, an unfortunate side effect of your inflatable fuck doll sheath is that when my cock slides inside you, it’s going to feel like a baseball bat.”

“Pity for you.”  Black added nastily to Mister Green explanation.

“But this is all in the name of science of course.  So, what’s going to happen now, is that once Mister Black has finished pumping you up to the maximum width, I’m going to take this cock that you have so kindly made hard and ram it up your shitter.  While I do that, Mister White is going to replace me at this end so you can get him ready.  Of course, fuck dolls are never really a proper replacement for the real thing, so it will probably take me a while to get off.

Rubber’s moaning increased in intensity as Black kept on pumping.  Finally, after several minutes, he detached the pump.  The second bladder/sheath was visible through the open outer ring.  At full inflation, it looked like an artificial latex sphincter.  Christine thought that Rubber’s stomach looked bloated from the size of the bladder inside her. 

While Green withdrew from Rubber’s mouth and Black took his place, White took an opportunity to sidle across to the play pen.  Christine looked on warily as he leant against the wooden bars of her enclosure.  He leant down and pulled her pacifier out of her mouth. 

“How’s my beautiful baby girl?”  Christine shuddered as the older man’s bony finger stroked her cheek gently. 

“Fine Daddy.”

“Really?”  He asked pointedly.  “I think little Lollie might be fibbing a bit.  You don’t look fine, you look very, very unhappy.  Have you wet yourself?” 

“No Daddy.”

“But earlier?”

“Yes Daddy,” His finger tickled under her chin.

“Did you like wetting yourself little Lollie?”

“Please,” She pulled away from him.

“Oh, poor baby didn’t like wetting herself.”  His tone dropped, he grabbed her jaw pulling her face around to look him directly in the eye.  “Too bad, you’re going to have to get used to it slut.  I’m sorry I missed the big event, but I’m sure the Pet Slut recorded it for me.  I can’t wait to watch it over and over again.  I hope you felt helpless, just like a little baby.  I hope you felt every last drop gush out of your no-no hole.  Did you like it slut?”

“No,” she cried weakly as his gaunt fingers held her face like a vice. “It was horrid.  Please stop this, please let me go.”

“Never.”  He hissed.  “I’ve got a feeling about you slut.  The others.  I get tired of them.  But you?  Watching you slowly get stripped back, piece by piece.  It’s delicious.  I’ll never let you go.  By the time I’m finished with you…  no.  I don’t want to ruin the surprise.  Just know little Lollie, that nothing makes me harder than seeing you in a sagging sopping diaper, bending over and begging for it hard in your tight little behind. 

“How is Miss Bum-Bum?”  He prised his fingers from her jaw. 

“No.  Not again,” she thought to herself.  Her stomach rolled as she thought about his thick stubby cock jabbing through her aching bottom hole… again.  Sucking in a deep breath she answered in the only way she could, by begging him to do the very thing she wanted least in the world.

“Very good poppet.  You’re learning.  You almost convinced me you really want Mister Winky to pound little Miss Bum-Bum.  Very good.  But no.  Mister Winky is going to be busy in a minute with the Rubber Slut.  But thank you very much for asking so nicely.  Perhaps later on.”

Christine sighed in relief as Mister White turned his back on her. 

In the centre of the room, Rubber wailed around Mister Black’s dick.  Green stood behind her, his cock firmly imbedded inside the inflated rubber sheath buried in Rubber’s behind.  Christine had no idea how painful the assault was, but from the sounds emerging from Rubber’s mouth, the girl was in a great deal of discomfort. 

It may have been thirty minutes, it might have been five.  Time flowed strangely in this terrible place.  Between spikes of fear-fuelled adrenaline and her constant feeling of impending doom, Christine had no idea how long it took for Green to empty himself in Rubber’s behind.  Finally, with a deep grunt he thrust himself deeply into her and shuddered. 

“I hope you can feel my seed trapped inside you slut,” He slapped her on the buttock.  “Think of it as the first down payment on what is about to become a significant deposit.”  He laughed at his poor joke and withdrew his shrinking member from the rubber sheath.  Black quickly took his place and thrust his longer length into Rubber’s posterior.  In turn White took up position in front of Rubber’s mouth, however his thicker, shorter weapon, already at attention after his tete a tete with Christine, was unable to fit entirely into Rubber’s ring gag.

Christine felt sick watching the debauchery in the centre of the room and she looked away.  Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about the circumstances that she and her fellow captives found themselves in.  She wished she could just go away inside her mind, but Rubber’s constant moans, along with the grunts and elations of the sadists, kept bringing her back to the here and now. 

For the rest of the afternoon, the rapists rotated through Rubber’s various holes.  Christine lost count of how many times each of them raped the poor girl’s prone form.  After a while, Rubber stopped moaning.  Christine had no idea whether she’d gone hoarse, given up, or fainted.  Not that fainting would have made much difference.  Bound as she was to the chair, hands, feet, thighs and neck, even if she had lost consciousness, the men could have still continued their vicious work.

More bottles arrived and she drank each of them down.  Mister White watched her carefully, salivating in anticipation of Christine’s impending humiliation.  He insisted on unsnapping the crotch of her ballerina onesie, revealing her pink plastic pants and cloth diaper.  As it became evident that Christine was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, he removed himself from Rubber’s rape rota and stood next to the play pen watching her squirm.

Another bottle came and White insisted on feeding it to her himself.  Already at bursting point, she sucked the water down slowly, knowing full well that each mouthful added to the payload in her bladder. 

She squirmed about.  White patted her gently, “Now popkin, you know you just have to let it go.  Don’t fight it.  There’s no point.  Little babies don’t.  Neither do you anymore.”  Christine had her eyes closed, she hated the very sight of the perverted white-haired monster. 

“No,”  She murmured around the rubber nipple of her pacifier.  This was even worse than the first time with White’s presence further adding to her sense of degradation.  Her eyes fluttered open in shock as she felt the first spurts uncontrollably welling out of her.  Hot pee seeped into her pants as she looked down. 

“That’s right little one.  Good girl.  Go in your diaper for Daddy.”  White cooed to her.  Christine looked up and saw the horrid perversion radiating from his face.  His tongue touched his lips, his eyes bright with yearning. 

In shock, Christine let go entirely only to feel the now-familiar flood surge out of her.  She looked down in horror to watch the damp spread out from her crotch across the Disney princess patterned diaper between her legs.  Tears trickled down her face as she felt the complete humiliation of being unable to control the most basic of her bodily functions.  White added to the moment by removing his penis from his pants to milk the thick beast as he watched Christine’s suffering. 

“Oh poor baby.  All wet.”  He observed.  “Let Daddy check.”  He climbed into the pen and brushed Christine’s complaining arms away.  His firm hand pushed into the soaked mass between her legs.  Christine felt the warmth of her own urine against her skin and shuddered. 

“Would you like Daddy to change you Princess?”  He removed her pacifier, prompting her to answer.

Christine cringed.  What sort of choice did she have?  She could sit here, again, wet, feeling her own piss slowly turn cold.  Or she could subject herself to White’s ministrations.  No doubt he would make her changing as humiliating as possible.  All these things flashed through her mind as she tried to come to a decision.

“Or you can just sit there.  You’re choice little Lollie.”

Ultimately the prospect of sitting for an hour or more in a soaked diaper was simply too distasteful.  In a tiny voice, Christine heard herself ask to be changed. 

“Surely you can try harder than that Princess.”  He responded.

“Please Daddy, could you change me?”

“Change what?”

Christine flushed with shame, “Please Daddy, could you please change my diaper?”

Mister White wasn’t going to let her off so easily.  “Why do you need changing little one?”

“Oh god, can’t you please just change me?  Isn’t it enough that I’ve asked.”

“No.  It’s not.  I want to hear why you want to be changed.”  He squished her diaper again just to reinforce her helplessness.

Christine swallowed, “Please Daddy, I need my diaper changed because I’ve wet myself.”

“Ha.”  He chuckled.  “Need and want are two different things Princess.  You don’t need your diaper changed, you want it changed.  You can sit there pickling in your own pee pee if I choose.  I could change you, but you’re not convincing me yet.”

In her mind, Christine screamed in frustration. 

“I’ll tell you what Poppet.  I’ll leave you there to think about things for a little while, and after my next turn with Rubber, I’ll come and ask you again.  If you can convince me to change you, then I might just do that.  Otherwise, you can sit there wet.”

“No!”  She whimpered, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Too late little Miss.  You’ve missed your chance.  Maybe in a little while.”  He climbed back over the pen’s fence to resume his participation in Rubber’s ongoing defilement.

---

The next time he came over, she begged wildly.  She explained that she’d wet herself and wanted her Daddy to change her.  He laughed again and left her.

Another bottle came.  Dejectedly she drank it down.  She thought long and hard how best to convince Mister White to get her out of her now chilly and chaffing diaper.  During her following attempt she explained how she desperately needed changing, that she’d peed herself like a little baby and needed her Daddy to change her.  Whatever it was that he was looking for, she didn’t deliver.  He left her once again, extolling her to try much harder next time.  Another bottle.  Rubber seemed to come back to life, and her moans resumed as Black, Green and White rotated through her rubberised arse, dumping load after loading of warm spunk into her increasingly cum-filled bowels.

“Daddy,” she begged the next time, “Lollie pee-pee herself.  Please change diapey.”

“That’s better.  But there’s something else.  I told you before what makes me hard.  You just need to remember Princess.”  He told her.

She remembered…  Crushed, humiliated, cold and wet, she got to her feet and turned away from him.  She bent forward.  White smiled as he looked her from top to bottom.  From the pink bow sitting in her strawberry blonde hair, over the pink fairy wings on her back, across the unbuttoned pink onesie that revealed the cold and sagging diaper between her legs, down to the pink ballerina slippers on her feet.  “Miss Bum-Bum needs Winky.”

He leered, “Such a good little baby girl, for asking so nicely, Daddy will change you.  But first you have to wet again.  Then you’ll get Winky and a change.”

“Now?”  She asked.

“Now.”  He answered.

This was it.  This was rock bottom.  She was so miserable, so desperate to escape the disgusting, clammy diaper, that she did the unthinkable.  This was different.  This wasn’t giving in to the inevitable.  This was altogether far worse.  With White watching on, Christine pushed.  There wasn’t much, but enough.  She’d only had two bottles since her last pee, but she’d drunk enough.  Christine sobbed as she made herself pee into the already soaked diaper.  The warm piss quickly soaked through the already saturated cloth and soon she had trickles of clear urine splashing about inside her plastic pants.  Some escaped through the frilled leg holes of her plastic pants and ran down her legs.  As Mister White unbuttoned his fly, she felt her own liquid drip into her soft pink ballerina slippers.

Moments later, he had her doggy style on the floor of her playpen.  His stubby cock rammed into her aching rectum.  The soaked diaper and soiled plastic pants sat piled in corner of the pen as a testament to the depths of her shame and degradation.