Read Online Vesta - Painworld by Jennifer Jane Pope - Free Book Online

newcomer, his unkempt tresses giving him something of a swashbuckling air, was Ellen’s epitome of a sexy male. And though she could not move her hands to investigate properly, she could certainly feel the heat rising in her sex and knew she must already be very wet down there. Despite the anonymity of her mask and despite the fact that she knew none of her companions were real, she felt herself blushing.
    She was brought quickly back to reality - or at least VESTA’s version of it - when the tip of the switch caught her exposed sex lips with a sharp slapping sensation. A high-pitched squeak burst past the gag and her instinctive reaction set the entire line tottering from side to side, five pairs of nipple bells jingling merrily.
    â€˜Pay attention, swan number three,’ the man snapped, stepping closer to her. ‘Pay attention, or we shan’t give your hungry little twot its dinner, shall we?’ He strutted up and down the line, the switch flicking at this girl and that, darting between open thighs one moment and clipping engorged nipples the next.
    â€˜Now,’ he said, casting the weapon aside and reaching for some sort of fastener over his crotch. ‘Who shall we dance with first?’
 
    This time Lianne was in a small cell and the rubber outfit had been replaced by a simple shift of a rough woven fabric that stopped several inches short of her bare knees. Her hands were secured behind her back, presumably by cuffs of stout leather, and her head was encased in a harness made of thinner straps of the same material; a harness which held immovably in place a ball of yet more leather, foul tasting as it wedged between her teeth, pressing on her tongue and rendering speech impossible.
    Suddenly the heavy timber door banged open and the doorway was filled by a huge figure, a man dressed in close fitting black leather breeches, heavy boots, a hangman style hood and wearing studded gauntlets which glinted in the sunlight from the ‘world’ outside. Instinctively, Lianne shrank back, eliciting a loud guffaw from her latest adversary.
    â€˜Yes, you should cower, witch!’ he bellowed, his voice almost deafening in the confines of the room. ‘Your time has come to atone for your devilish sins!’ He strode forward, grasped her by the arm and dragged her easily across the few feet separating her from whatever fate next lay in store for her.
    Outside there appeared to be quite a crowd gathered, though their appearance was somewhat nebulous and every time Lianne tried to focus on any individual, or particular knot of individuals, their outline became indistinct and only the mass of people behind them seemed to exist. She assumed VESTA was not yet quite capable of projecting a scene as complicated as this one seemed to be, but she was left with little time to ponder the subject.
    The platform to which her captor dragged her looked far more solid than the crowd, as did the little group of figures who stood around the top of the rough hewn steps leading up to the top of it. There were four of them in total, two men dressed similarly to the giant who had hold of her, although their masks covered only the top halves of their features. The other two were robed as priests of some sort, black cassocks, monkish hoods thrown back over their shoulders, and vestments of white, gold and red draped about their necks.
    Despite herself and the gag which filled her mouth, Lianne almost laughed out loud, for the features of the latter two had clearly been derived from any one of a hundred Hollywood B movies; lantern jaws, deep set dark eyes, hawkish noses and hollow, cadaverous cheeks. However, the fierce pressure of the big man’s huge hands on the soft flesh of her upper arm seemed real enough, and she winced with pain as he all but threw her up the rustic stairway.
    Lianne stared about her, eyes darting from side to side. Above, a thick hemp rope, stereotypical hangman’s noose at its