12 Days of Kinkmas – Day #2 – ‘Cult of Helen’

chainedseated-vi

 

Jodie came awake with a wheeze that rattled her entire body.
Her mouth was dry, her head dizzy and her vision was black.
Arms felling like jelly, she braced herself to push forward and sit up, but something strikingly cold tore at her wrists and sent her backwards.
A creeping sensation of cold began to sweep over her entire body, like her mind was only just catching up with processing. The same cool shackles tied her legs and her body….she was naked, completely naked.
Wherever she was, she felt the chill skirt up her thighs and across the curves of her breasts.

A strangled cry came tunnelling up her throat and out, wheezing into the space she seemed to be confined in.
“Sisters, lights please. She is awake.”
One by one by one lights flickered into existence – tiny blazing spots of orange all over the room.
Candles, Jodie thought, squinting, thankful she wasn’t blind. Candles illuminating women all around her. Women of all shapes and sizes and ethnicities. Each of them completely naked, bearing collars around their necks that linked a chain down to…
Jodie squinted…
Clamps attached to their nipples.

With the room fully lit, Jodie looked around, trying desperately to make sense of her surroundings. She was in a basement…no…an abandoned warehouse? Something dark and dank and dilapidated that smelt damp and stale.
Jodie looked to her left, found women, chained, nude, blank.
She looked to her right, found women, chained, nude, and blank.
Her mind fuzzy, she tried to get a hold of how she got there. It was the Christmas holidays and she had stayed behind at university instead of going home for Christmas because….
She racked her brain, what was it, what was it? Because she couldn’t afford it.
What else happened?
“Sister Melanie, would you like to begin?”
Melanie. Melanie was her dorm roommate. Melanie invited her to a party in the city. Melanie…drugged her?
“Thank you, Sister Tahnee.”

Jodie looked down her body at Melanie who stood at the end of the table Jodie was tied to.
The sight of Melanie, nude and chained like the rest, kicked her stomach into overdrive. She felt bile rising along with a wave of nausea.
Melanie was watching her and Jodie was looking back, unable to look away from her friend’s bare form.
Melanie was always pretty, came a thought to Jodie. Lightly tanned, piercing dark eyes. Her body seemed to match what Jodie saw before, her nipples and pubic hair as dark as her eyes and hair. Jodie felt a need to laugh, a terrible manic need, and silenced it.
“Sisters. We are gathered here in the name of-““
Melanie, what is this? A Prank?”
Melanie paused, looked at her, arms folded behind her back.
A beat – then she bowed her head.
“A-am I part of some haze?”
“She speaks” Said the woman named Tahnee impatiently.
“Mm, she has pluck” Said another voice, an older, weathered voice.
“She will do splendid then.” Came a third voice, low and flat.
“This isn’t f-funny, anymore.”
“Hera.” Tahnee commanded.
Footsteps approached, growing louder.
Before Jodie could find the words to object, her vision was snuffed out.
“Hey! No, Listen!”
Words tumbled out to grab someone, anyone’s attention, as her heart went into overdrive, but Jodie was left to the darkness, left silenced by the cloth now between her lips.
It was at that point, at the touch of the cloth on her lips, that panic sizzled hot and quick through her body, twisting and turning its way from the pit of her stomach out her lungs. She screamed.
It felt like a bomb going off in her head, shattering both sides of the mind, with all contents left to tumble out the hole in her head.
She felt tears in her eyes, there out of nowhere; as the sting from the object reverberated across her nipples, pain radiating outwards.

Somewhere Melanie continued to speak.
“…Sisters of Helen, we are gathered here….”
Jodie wriggled on the spot, feeling the chains carve into her wrists, burning. She could feel her drool pooling in her mouth, could feel the dampness of the room give it a cooling effect.
“….in celebration of the life of Helen of Sparta, Our one true Goddess…”
Jodie felt her legs start to buckle under the strain of moving out of the equipment that held her still.
Scathing, scalding, searing pain tore its way out from between her legs where the object, wooden it felt, wooden and coarse, had struck her.
Panic-fuelled pain tore through her body, the tail end of it being a tinge of pleasure – guilty, sickening pleasure.
“Before the feast commences, I would like to ask you all to bow your head in prayer.”
With that, Melanie fell quiet, leaving Jodie alone with the chilly silence.
She wanted to ask if they would kill her – and eat her – as part of this feastbut the pain across her tits and stinging lips held her in check. She didn’t want anymore.
A beat — then:
“Goddess, we give thanks for your wisdom, beauty and fertility.”
A murmur spread through the crowd, hushed and quickly.

“Sister Abigail. Begin. ” Came an older voice.
The one named Abigail cleared her throat. “Yes, Sister.”
Footsteps shuffled across the floor. Something unzipped, all the way around.
Jodie felt a whimper come out through her wet lips and suppressed it.
Silence followed, then: “We hope this soul appeases, O Goddess.”
They’re gunna kill me, Jodie whimpered. She struggled, tried to move, tried to kick her legs free. She could see it now in her minds – she could do it, she could run out of there, where ever there is. No matter of nudity.
That’s when she felt it – the cool metal object, slick and soft, ease into her ass, feeding into her, feeding off of her, filling her in a way that was uncomfortable yet came with an uneasiness that was exciting.
The toy in her ass seemed to lock her in a state of suspended animation. Jodie’s body stiffened, the pain across her body now giving way to the toy easing in and out of her ass, as gentle as could be.
The motion seemed to ignite the sting on her lips, coiling around her clit, snaking across every inch and setting it ablaze.
She was wet now, the breeze in the dank room solidified this fact.
How long the room was silent, how long this toy, handled by whoever, was slinking in and out of her ass with such gentle ease, she knew not. Time seemed to melt away, and her body and her worries melted with it.
Nothing existed but her and this toy – the toy that collapsed her mind, that spilled out both sides of her mind. The toy that locked her in place.

Jodie caught herself easing into the toy, savouring the feeling of drool pooling around her nipples, feeling…what? She didn’t know. No one had ever taken her ass before, Christ.
When her orgasm came, it sent jagged edges of pain mixed with pleasure across her glazed-with-sweat body. In her trembles, her anus squeezed shut around the toy, holding it in place, intensifying it, bringing wave after wave after wave of slithering shameful pleasure.
There was a click from around the room, but Jodie paid it no mind, she wrestled with the toy in her ass, wrestled with her mind.
When a second toy came to rest against her clit, sending vibrating pulse after pulse, Jodie let out a cry, wet, thick with phlegm. It travelled down her body in waves and in pools, sticky and sweet and relentless.
“Melanie, as the sister whose role it was to bring an offering this year, you may have first taste, praise Helen.”
“Praise Helen…”

Jodie had wrestled with breaking free of the pain and pleasure and orgasm, had wrestled with running free of this whackjob band of women, but when she felt Melanie’s mouth cover the entirety of her cunt, when she felt her tongue run across her slit and taste her, something within her broke, and she wasn’t Jodie anymore.

 

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