The Kingdom Ch. 16

Rounding the bend, I had to jog slightly to keep up with Annabelle's brisk pace. Even in high heels, she was quite a fast walker. Moments later, we reached the room where we were having group therapy. Stopping in front of the door, Annabelle held out her hand to the security guard standing next to the door.

"I need an extra leash," Annabelle said to him abruptly.

"Yes, ma'am," the guard replied as he quickly unclipped a leather leash from his belt and handed it to her. Annabelle then lifted her key card up to the locking mechanism on the wall, prompting the door to slide open.

Annabelle walked quickly into the room, pulling me behind her. "Tasha Quincy," she announced, prompting everyone in the room to turn in our direction.

"Yes?" Tasha replied tentatively.

"Come with me, please," Annabelle replied, prompting Tasha to stand to her feet.

"Excuse me, we're in the middle of a session," Priya responded defensively.

"Miss Quincy will take a raincheck," Annabelle said dryly as she stepped forward and clipped the end of the leash to Tasha's collar.

Priya stood to her feet. "Our session ends in half an hour," she said defiantly. "After the group is dismissed, she'll be free to go wherever you'd like."

"I'm afraid there are matters of greater urgency," Annabelle replied in a definitive tone.

Priya crossed to Annabelle, stopping mere inches in front of her. "Whatever it is can wait," she clapped back. A chilling silence filled the room as the two women stared at each other. "You can't barge in here and cancel a physician-mandated therapy session," Priya continued. "These are my patients and you are directly interfering with their care. Not to mention violating doctor-patient privileges."

"Actually, they're not your patients," Annabelle countered, crossing her arms. "And even if they were, we're in South Carolina, sweetheart. The state doesn't legally recognize physician-patient testimonial privileges."

"Seriously?" The woman named Madison chimed in from across the room.

"Write your congressmen," Annabelle retorted dryly without looking away from Priya.

"These women have been through hell and they need an opportunity to cope and recover," Priya argued in low voice.

Annabelle snorted dismissively. "I think they'll manage."

"That's not your call to make!" Priya answered in a raised voice. "You know what- a moment outside, please." Priya replied before storming toward the exit and opening the door with her key card. Reluctantly, Annabelle dropped Tasha's and my leashes and followed her into the hallway.

Stepping over to me, Tasha asked, "What the hell is all this about?"

"I'm honestly not sure," I replied.

"Why are you even still here?" Tasha asked.

"I uh- chose to stay behind," I answered sheepishly.

"Huh?" Tasha asked in disbelief. "Why in fuck's name would you do a thing like that?"

"I-" I paused to glance around the room. All eyes were on me and I could feel my face turning red, "I didn't want you to have to deal with Murphy on your own." Tasha simply stared at me with her jaw open. "You shouldn't have to handle... that... all by yourself."

Tasha gave a long pause, studying my face. "Let me get this straight," she replied slowly. "You gave up early release... so you could stay behind and relieve me from full-time oral duty?" I nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Wow," Tasha said as a smile spread across her face. "I'm... I'm not sure what to say."

"I tried to convince Annabelle to let you join me in Jodie's custody, but you know Annabelle. She wouldn't-" All of the sudden, I was unexpectedly cut short by Tasha's lips pressing against mine. My eyes shot wide open in surprise as her lips caressed mine. To my even greater surprise, I found myself unwilling to stop her. To the contrary, I reflexively returned her kiss, closing my eyes slowly as the moment unfolded. A whistle could be heard from one of the women who were watching. I honestly wasn't sure if my participation was out of attraction or if I was just emotionally vulnerable. But whatever the reason- it was nice.

Once the kiss ended, Tasha took a step back and stared into my eyes. "Was that okay?" she asked.

"Mm-hmm," I replied with an embarrassed smile. Just then, the door slid back open, prompting Tasha to step away from me. Annabelle entered the room, followed by Priya.

"James Mason will hear about this," Priya's voice said loudly. Even as a former employee of the Kingdom, I had no idea who she was talking about. I'd never even heard the name before.

"Oh please," Annabelle retorted through laughter. "Mason couldn't give a fuck about what happens in this shit-hole." Annabelle walked briskly over to Tasha and me and grabbed the ends of our leashes. "But if it makes you feel better, go ahead." A yank on our leashes prompted us both to step closer to Annabelle as she moved toward the exit.

"Have a nice break, ladies," Annabelle cooed as we exited the room. She turned the opposite way from the lobby and led us down the long florescent hallway.

"Soooo, what's going on?" Tasha asked. "We win the weekend at the spa or something?"

"Or something," Annabelle cooed with a sadistic grin. "The two of you will be spending the next couple of hours testing some equipment for me," Annabelle mused.

"More machines," Tasha muttered under her breath.

"What kind of equipment?" I asked.

"The punishy kind," Annabelle replied in a sultry voice.

We walked for another minute or so before reaching a pair of large swinging doors marked with the word "MAINTENANCE". Annabelle pushed the doors open and we stepped through quickly to avoid being hit by the doors as they swung closed. Inside was a massive warehouse-like room with machinery scattered across multiple work-tables. The air smelled of engine oil and burnt rubber. There looked to be about a dozen male mechanics hard at work tweaking and repairing the equipment.

Tasha and I followed Annabelle as she marched confidently up the far corner of the room that was walled off by plexiglass sheets. Inside the cube-like contained space was a burly mechanic who was welding what looked like human-sized metal hamster wheel. Annabelle rapped on the plexiglass, prompting the man to put out his blow-torch and turn to face us.

After raising his welding helmet above his face, he smiled and said, "Well hey there, lady."

"Myron, dear," Annabelle said loudly as to be heard through the plexiglass. "The wheel looks as good as new."

"Glad you like it," the man called Myron replied. "Just finishing up now, actually."

"I should've known you'd finish ahead of schedule," Annabelle replied, as she stepped through the transparent plastic flaps that hung over the entryway to the plexiglass enclosure. "Myron's simply the best," she said to us as we followed her inside. "He can literally fix anything."

"So, where would you like'er dropped off?" Myron asked, leaning against the giant metal wheel.

"Oh, probably back to E block lounge," Annabelle said as she admired the structure. "I'll let you know for sure before the end of the day."

"Sounds good," Myron replied, scanning Tasha and me pervily. "Wanna have one of these two give her a test run?"

"Oh, I wish they could," Annabelle laughed. "But I'm afraid I have something else in store for them. Would it be a possible for us to have the fishbowl for the next couple of hours?" I gulped nervously at hearing the word hours.

"Yeah, I can be cleared out of here in a few minutes," Myron replied as he pulled off his work gloves.

"He really is the best," Annabelle reiterated to us, prompting Tasha to roll her eyes discreetly.

"Just so long as you're okay with the dip in productivity around," Myron added. "These guys tend to drag their feet when there's a live show playing in the corner."

"Oh, I'm not concerned," Annabelle replied dismissively. "They work hard. They deserve some entertainment."

While Annabelle spoke, Myron unlatched the closest plexiglass sheet from the cement wall that ran perpendicular to it. Grabbing a hold of its edge, he proceeded to walk toward the other side of the enclosure, causing plexiglass segments to accordion together. Once there was an opening wide enough for the giant metal wheel to fit through, he stopped and called out, "Pat and Reji! Come move this thing will ya?" Two nearby men dutifully stopped what they were doing and walked over. "So, what's on the menu for these two?" Myron asked, nodding toward Tasha and me.

"I was thinking of giving them a nice long workout on Armstrong trainer. A little bird told me the repairs were completed," Annabelle said as the two men stepped inside the enclosure and proceeded to push the wheel away on a rolling platform.

"Indeed they were," Myron remarked with a smile. "Kyle!" He shouted suddenly through cupped hands. "Bring over the Armstrong, will ya?! Bill- help him out!" At his direction, a burly man standing by the entrance of the room hopped onto a nearby forklift while another crossed toward a large object covered with tarp. "I replaced the aluminum axels with galvanized steel rods so they won't rust again," Myron added. "They shouldn't give you anymore trouble."

"Excellent," purred Annabelle.

A minute later, the forklift drove into the plexiglass enclosure and lowered the large covered pallet in front of us. As soon as it touched down, one of the men pulled off the tarp, revealing the object referred to as the Armstrong trainer. At first, I thought it was a stationary tandem bicycle. But upon closer inspection, its sinister modifications became evident. Most obviously, there didn't appear to be a front end to the bike. The handlebars had been removed and the old-fashioned banana-saddle seats were both facing inward toward each other. And by seat, what I really mean was a narrow metal bar that housed an upward-facing dildo and butt-plug. I winced as imagined the level of discomfort this would impose.

Next, my eyes traveled to the wheels, where the tires should have been. Instead, protruding from the metal rims were two leather flaps positioned at 12 and 6 o'clock. Between the device's name as well as the wheels proximity to the phallus-equipped "seats", I deduced that a thorough spanking was in our immediate futures.

Extending outward on both sides of each wheel's center were trick-bike-style pegs. Each pair of pegs had been soldiered to a hefty banana seat rail frame that extended upward roughly four feet into the air. At the top of each rail frame hung two cords. Dangling from the end of the shorter cord was a pair of black leather bondage mittens and from the longer one hung a leather trainer ring-gag.

Unlike a normal vintage bicycle, the vertical bars of the banana seat rail frame extended roughly four feet beneath each wheel's axel and were soldiered to the stainless steel base below. This effectively held the entire bicycle contraption stationary roughly two feet above the ground. The last identifiable feature was the outward-facing iPad mounted atop a podium at the contraption's center.

Annabelle stepped forward to inspect the contraption. "Hello, old friend," she mused softly as she gave the nearest wheel a spin. The protruding leather flaps make a clapping noise as they struck the adjacent seat with each revolution. "It feels like only yesterday that I was writing this puppy's code. It was at the 2010 opening of The Kingdom in Singapore. The Armstrong trainer was one of the machines that we decided to feature at the opening night showcase." As Annabelle spoke, she walked slowly around the contraption, pausing to admire each of its many elements. "The first two riders were sisters. Both were office holders at The Kingdom who volunteered themselves as a show of solidarity to the worker bees beneath them. Their workout lasted for several hours and was performed onstage behind live musicians. It was a big hit. I even programmed the RPM requirement to change in real-time to match the tempo of whatever song was playing. Back then, that was pretty damn impressive."

Having walked in a full circle around the device, Annabelle leaned against frame and turned her gaze back to Tasha and me. "Long story short," Annabella continued, "-as unlikely as it might have seemed, that particular workout session set those two sisters on a course that would change their relationship moving forward. For the most part, the two of them had always been close. They shared the same interests, same fears, and in many ways, the same mind. They always defended each other from harm and had each other's back. But that night, something changed... The resentment seeded by Armstrong only festered over time. What started as a small tear between them ripped wider and wider until the two of them ultimately came to see each other as enemies."

Annabelle's phone suddenly emitted a loud ding sound. "Ugh, I'm afraid I need to handle a situation," Annabelle said as she studied her screen. "Boys, would you be dears and get these ladies loaded up for me?" Annabelle asked the two men.

"Yes, ma'am," both men replied. Annabelle then turned and briskly left the plexiglass enclosure, leaving us alone with the men. Despite the fact that her story felt like a dramatic monologue from a comic book villain, I found myself weighing the motives she might have had for sharing it. Either she was bluffing and merely building suspense for effect, or she was telling the truth and foreshadowing a likely aftermath of spite and resentment between me and Tasha. I silently prayed for the former...

Without hesitation, the burly men began unbuckling our straitjackets and peeling the latex from our bodies. Ignoring the prospect of being forcibly undressed in a warehouse full of sweaty male workers, the cool air felt really nice on my moist skin. What can I say? When a girl is deprived of so much, she finds herself appreciating the little things more and more.

As soon as the straitjackets were removed, the men pulled us by the leash over to the contraption. The bondage mittens were unclipped from the hanging cord and coaxed over our hands. Once our hands were locked snugly inside, our wrists were pulled behind our backs and secured together with a simple carabiner. Recognizing the futility of resistance, neither of us put up a struggle. Normally, a carabiner would have been easy to unclip, but without the use of our fingers, the mittens might as well have been welded together.

Next, each of the men reached over to the bars that we were to be seated on. On the underside of the bar was a small lever that I hadn't seen earlier. Both men grabbed ahold of lever and began cranking. Without my glasses, it was difficult to see what the effect was. But after a few more cranks, I spotted a whitish substance oozing from the tips of each upright dildo and butt-plug. Lubricant, I thought to myself in relief. Whoever had designed this machine was quite thorough. After a final crank, each phallus was adequately coated with lube to the point where excess dripped onto the steel platform beneath.

I suddenly gasped in surprise as I was swooped into the air without warning by the man who had mittened me. Despite Tasha being a bit heavier than me, she too was easily lifted into the air by her handler. The two men hoisted us over our perspective seats and then lowered us gently onto our phalluses. My eyes shot wide open as the large objects forced their way inside me. Even with the lube, their entry was quite a doozy. I winced in discomfort as my vagina and anus unwillingly accepted their new occupants. The lower I descended, the worse the discomfort became.

Curling my toes and digging my fingernails into my palms, I bit down on my lower lip to prevent myself from screaming as the butt-plug pushed its way inside. Fortunately, the worst of the pain was short lived. Once the bulb of the plug made its way past my sphincter, the pain instantly subsided. After I could descend no further, I exhaled slowly. Having my full weight rest squarely upon my sex was definitely a new sensation. Not painful, per se, but certainly uncomfortable. I also could not ever remember feeling so full! The phalluses hadn't looked particularly thick, but with both of them invading me simultaneously, I seriously felt like I was going to explode! Come to think of it, this was my very first experience with double penetration. And to be blunt, I did not like it one bit...

Across from me, Tasha's eyes were closed and her face was relaxed as she was lowered onto her devices. She appeared so undaunted by her circumstances that it almost looked like she was asleep. It was kind of sad to think about how high her pain tolerance must have been after a week with Murphy. After days upon days of being relentlessly abused by these types of machines and devices, this was probably just another walk in the park for her. Maybe even a relief by comparison... Once she was fully seated, she opened her eyes. Upon making eye contact, she gave me an assuring wink. I returned the gesture with a nervous smile as the men secured us to the bars we were seated on with a leather strap that encompassed our upper thighs.

Next, I felt my handler grab my left foot and begin to pull it forward. I relaxed my muscles as he fed my toes inside a rubber sandal that had been riveted to the top of the aluminum pedal. I resisted the urge to growl in pain as I felt the pointy metal tread of the pedal digging into the sole of my tender foot. Once the rubber heel strap had been buckled, my foot was now definitively trapped in place. After the process had been repeated with my right foot, I pressed upward on both pedals in an effort to relieve some of the pressure that had been placed on my sex. Other than causing the pedals' pointy metal tread to dig deeper into my soles, this accomplished nothing whatsoever. The leather straps that connected my upper thighs to my seat prevented me from rising even a centimeter. I relaxed my leg muscles in defeat and ceded my fate back to gravity.

It was at this point that the trainer gag, hanging from the longer of the two cords suddenly appeared in front of my face. Not wanting to cause trouble for myself, I opened my mouth without my handler even having to ask. As the medium-sized ring was wedged behind my teeth, I instantly realized that this was no ordinary gag. Circling the rim with my tongue, I noticed what felt like a ball-bearing located on the underside of the ring behind my upper front teeth. Upon licking the ball, I suddenly felt a string of water droplets fall into my mouth. I rolled my eyes as I came to the realization that this particular trainer gag had been customized to operate like a water bottle for a hamster. The silicone straps of the trainer gag as well as the cord connected to the top of it obviously contained some sort of feeding tube that led from a water source somewhere inside the bicycle's frame. While summoning the water was simple enough, swallowing was a bit tricky without the use of my jaw. But after a few seconds, I managed figure out how to slowly role my tongue backwards in order gulp down the small pool that had formed behind my bottom teeth.

I waited patiently as the handler pulled the straps over my face and around my neck and buckled them. I sighed with the all-to-familiar feeling of helplessness as the final strap was secured beneath my chin. Swallowing my pride, I lifted my tongue and licked the ball-bearing again in order to further quench my growing thirst.

Then, our handlers suddenly pulled our restrained mittens upward. I instinctively leaned forward as my hands were pulled higher and higher behind my back. Unable to see behind me, I watched Tasha's situation to get a better sense for what what was happening to me. Once Tasha's arms were raised to be parallel with the floor, her handler clipped the carabiner that connected her mittens to the bottom of the other cord. I exhaled slowly as I felt my handler do the same to me. Our arms were now locked in inescapable strappados. Instinctively, I leaned forward as much as I could to alleviate the strain that had been placed on my upper back and shoulders.