Our Only Hope Ch. 06

The hum increased and slave one was now audibly whimpering. The hum increased again and her whimpering became louder and faster. The "uh, uh, uh, uh," was obviously in time with the rotation of the dildo within her. The other three remained silent, but their muscles were growing more and more tense, and the smaller balls attached to the chains in their hands were rising slowly into the air as they pulled downward with their arms.

Wyatt waved the controller above his head and smiled widely at the crowd. He dramatically held his hand on one of the knobs and twisted. The hum dropped to zero for just an instant and then returned at perhaps twice the volume as before.

A muffled shriek followed by a loud scream filled the room as the two small balls in front of slave number three dropped almost down to the platform pulling the nipple clamps violently off her nipples. That was followed almost immediately by the large bowling ball dropping all the way down to the platform with a loud thud. The falling bowling ball had ripped both strings of clothespins off the screaming slave's abdomen. Oh well, I hadn't planned on winning my bet anyway.

"Such a pity," Wyatt said with a smirk. "She didn't even get a good orgasm out of it."

The clips and pins had now been pulled from slave number three's nipples and abdomen, but she was not free of the Sybian and her wrists were still handcuffed to the pipes alongside her. She vainly tried to throw herself off her vibrating tormentor, but was unsuccessful. She wailed in despair as Wyatt held up the controller and once again increased the intensity of the vibration and rotation. The other three girls, meanwhile, remained grimly focused on holding off their building orgasms.

"Seven!" Wyatt called out and the humming increased. He waited a couple of minutes and then called out "Eight!" He was just about to call out "Nine!" when slave number one let out a deep groan that soon morphed into a shrill scream as the two small balls and the bowling ball crashed down. She was obviously in the throws of an orgasm as the pain tore through her. Her cry was clearly a combination of pain and passion... leaning heavily toward pain.

Wyatt waited for her cries to fade before holding up the controller and calling out "Nine!"

Both remaining slaves were visibly shuddering, trying to hold off the inevitable.

A few minutes later Wyatt called out, "That's maximum," and began walking back and forth in front of the two women. It wasn't very long before slave number four lost control. The balls dropped, and the nipple clamps and clothespins were torn from her body, but she made almost no noise. Instead she gave a low groaning sigh as she trembled on top of the Sybian.

Only slave number two was left. She took a deep breath and very intentionally let go of the two handles allowing the small balls to drop. She took another breath and tilted her head back, releasing the leather bit which held up the heavy ball. The bowling ball dropped immediately, tearing the clothespins from her abdomen. As they pulled off, she gave out a deep, moaning groan that was very obviously a cry of passion, not pain. Evidently, slave number four was a pain slut who was able to turn the entire experience into one of pleasure.

One of the students in the front row stood up whooping, "I won! I won! I won!"

"Pay the man!" Wyatt called out and Bill and Ted walked over to the students. One of them peeled off several bills from a large roll and handed them to the student. They stood calmly staring at him for a moment until he got the hint and handed back two bills as a tip to them. They then walked up to the lit area, unplugged the platform and pushed it back into the darkness. The Sybians stopped immediately, but the four women continued to moan and whimper as they were wheeled away.

As the goons walked into the darkness, Wyatt came back out into the light. There was a soft titter of laughter as he appeared. If he had looked strange before, he now looked ridiculous. He was carrying one of those long, black, flutes that Indian "snake charmers" use that looks like it is pregnant. At least that's what goes through my mind when I see the huge bulge at the mouthpiece end of it. I think someone told me once that they are called a Punji or something like that. I might not have recognized it, but he was wearing a slightly over-sized turban on his head with a large fake jewel mounted in it right above his forehead. Thankfully, there were no Sikhs in the audience or he might now have a kirpan dagger decorating the center of his chest for such a flagrant disrespect of Punjab traditions.

He stood grinning at the crowd while Bill and Ted carried a large, almost flat wicker basket out onto the stage. It was obviously heavy because it made a solid thump as they placed it none-too-gently on the floor. The stereotypical thin, wailing notes associated with snake charming began and Wyatt, pretending to play the Punji, began waving it near the top of the basket.

In response a dark green hand emerged from the top of the basket and waved in time with the music, occasionally pointing fingertips-first at the flute as if it were a snake. The music got slightly louder and a second hand emerged from the basket. The two green arms danced in time to the music, often intertwining in ways that made me wonder if the person to whom they belonged actually had any bones in their body.

Just before the dancing arms started to get boring, a bump of dark black hair started bobbing up above the rim of the basket. Soon a green forehead appeared, and then a smiling green face. The young woman was very beautiful... and very thin. She had somewhat dark skin, but it was hard to be sure beneath the green makeup-- or paint. She had to be an expert contortionist because there was no way that she was standing up-- or even sitting up-- in that basket.

She brought her shoulders above the rim of the basket and moved her head back and forth within the width of her arms. I have seen various performers imitate this classic move, but this was the first time that I had ever seen it done this well. The crowd was silent and very attentive as she rose further out of the basket, exposing her well-formed breasts. By American standards, they were small, but they were very well-formed, and as is not uncommon among women from the Indian subcontinent, her nipples were unusually long. Her hands were swaying high above her head which was moving back and forth between her arms, and somehow, she was slowly rotating her chest in small circles so that her breasts bounced slightly and her nipples quivered in small circles in front of her.

As the music played on, she continued to rise out of the basket. No one was any longer paying attention to Wyatt's horrid impersonation of a Hindu snake charmer. All eyes were on the green lady as she rose from the basket. The basket quivered slightly as her waist rose above the rim. Evidently she had to make some major adjustment to how her legs were folded within the wicker before she could rise farther. Then she slowly stood the rest of the way up. It was obvious from the position of her legs that she was rising from a cross-legged stance within the basket. Her legs were spread slightly as her groin came into view. She had very dark pubic hair which looked slightly strange with the green makeup rubbed in it. The combination of green and black, however, highlighted the fact that her cunt was gaping slightly open. It was apparent that even a green-skinned snake woman was still pink on the inside.

Once she was standing upright, she continued to sway for several minutes in a snake-like fashion with her hands above her head. I was watching her hands and her face and didn't notice that she had very smoothly stepped out of the basket until she began moving away from it. She continued her head bobbing, swaying motion while stepping sideways, walking along the front of the stage and smiling down at each of the customers in the front row. She then went back across the front, this time with her gaze fixed on those of us sitting in the second row.

After she had returned to the far end of the stage, she stood still for a moment and then began bending over backwards. It looked like she was going to do a back bend, but as her head went further back, she did not place her hands on the floor. Instead, her hands, still waving like snakes, slid along the floor and forward between her legs. She grabbed her own ankles as her head continued to move down and forward until her smiling face was now framed, not by her arms, but by her legs. It was almost disconcerting to watch her face bob in small circles beneath her cunt which was now fully gaped like a bright pink flame burning above her head. There was an audible gasp as she again began stepping sideways and moving along the front row. I'm pretty sure that the college boys' attention was riveted a little above her face as she went by smiling at each of them.

This time she did not walk back across the front. Instead, she raised herself back to a standing position and began undulating in an even more snake-like fashion as she slowly moved back toward her basket. She stood behind the basket and rotated slowly in place, still undulating and waving, until the music ended with a loud cymbal clash. At the clash of the cymbal, she dropped to the floor as if going back into the basket, and the lights went totally out. When they faded back up, Bill and Ted walked out onto the stage, lifted the basket, and took it off into the darkness. It was obvious from the way they handled it that it was now empty. The snake lady must have scampered off stage in the darkness.

Wyatt came back out and stood in the center of the spotlights. He had lost the Punji but was still wearing that ridiculous turban. "Let's hear it for Lady Anaconda," he shouted. "She is on loan this month from my brother's club in LA," he added just as loudly. "Those of you who are westbound to the coast, stop in at the The Blue Deuce for a really quality show. Tell them Wyatt sent you and you will get your first drink at half price."

I refrained from shouting out "Thank you, Jesus!" but I did have to quickly set my drink on the table to keep from dropping it. A soft voice in my ear said, "All of the drones are now in place. We are ready at your signal."

I cupped my hand in front of my mouth and spoke into my watch, "Ready whenever you are Natasha." Then I started moving towards the stage.

Almost immediately, a loud, fast, "Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping!" reverberated through the club and a loud voice-- my voice-- yelled through what sounded like the distortion of a bullhorn, "That burst was high so we didn't hurt anyone, but each time we fire, it will be lower. We only want Wyatt Monty. Everyone else get the hell out of there."

Boris had insisted that it would sound real, and he was right. If I hadn't know that the sound of bullets tearing through the sheet metal walls was just coming from special transducers on four drones that were now sitting on the metal roof of Colonel Boogie's, I would have been on the floor. The dust drifting down from the rafters was an unintended bonus that added to the reality.

Most of the customers were running for the front door, led by Bill and Ted. I didn't blame them. They were muscle, muscle, not gun muscle. Wyatt, as expected, was still standing in the spotlights, frozen in fear. I grabbed him and pulled him to the floor. "Down!" I yelled. "No telling where the next burst might come."

As if in answer to my comment-- well, actually it was in answer to my comment-- another loud

"Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping!" tore through the club.

"My truck's out back!" I shouted into Wyatt's ear. "Does that door open?!" I added, pointing to the back exit.

"Yeah," he stammered back. "I keep it clear in case there's a raid and I have to get out the back."

"Let's go!" I shouted, pulling him toward the door. "I'll take you wherever you need to go."

"Just get me away from here!" he shouted in fear.

As we were moving toward the door, he didn't feel the slight prick of a ring needle as I pushed him in front of me.

We ran to the truck and I immediately started it. "Buckle up!" I yelled. "I'm going across the field."

He rapidly clicked on his seatbelt and I floored it. As I had warned, I went straight across the grass at the end of the parking lot and turned toward the street so that I bounced over the curb at the intersection and roared away toward the Interstate. Meanwhile, in front of the club, the customers and staff were standing around trying to understand what had just happened. Hopefully none of them had noticed the four drones lift off from the roof of the club and fly over to the roof of a tire repair shop two blocks away. That had happened as soon as the second burst of noise was finished, so most of them were possibly still inside. The drones would eventually be discovered, but by then, no one would associate them with whatever it was that had happened at Colonel Boogie's.

Once we were on the Interstate, I slowed to the legal speed limit. Wyatt turned to me and said, "Thank you for getting me out of that. What's your name? My brothers will want to thank you."

I smiled at him and said, "My friends call me W."

I chuckled as a look of abject fear filled his face just before he lost consciousness. An hour and twenty minutes later he was on a private plane headed for The Society's island prison and I was on Interstate 80 headed for Los Angeles and a visit to The Blue Deuce.

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END OF CHAPTER

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