THE LIBRARY: The Electrician Part 20

CONTINUED FROM HERE - This is a newly rewritten story, involving "Privateer" - get to know him....

Flashes of a bathroom and kitchen went by and then they were in a living room, with two sofas and a loveseat -- all decorated in white and black fur. Glassed-in bookcases were along every wall. There were no windows. The only light came from two forty-watt Tiffany lamps. The glowing room itself seemed furry.

And then, suddenly, the girls were standing unsteadily in the middle of the room, staring at the squatters who stood along the walls. Brianne tried to speak through the gag.

"What? What now?" But only mush came out as the tape crinkled. Then the blonde saw the brunette's frightened expression and followed it.

The electrician was standing by the door with a well-dressed man and two hulking bodyguards. The man was obviously the party-giver and, even more obviously, was raping the girls with his eyes.

"No!" Brianne tried to scream, buckling. "No more! No!"

But then the squatters were there, an arm encircling her waist, a fist yanking her head back up by her hair. They grabbed Alissa too, just in case, a mouth-clamping hand forcing her head back onto a shoulder.

The host nodded slightly toward the electrician and raised his hand. In it was a little material. "Dress them in this," he said. "White for the brunette, black for the blonde. You'll find shoes in the closet. I'll be back in ten minutes."

The host and his thugs left, locking the door behind them. The electrician surveyed the outfits in his hand, then slowly raised his head toward the girls, his smile widening. Without a word, he walked slowly toward them, holding each item out.

Ten minutes later, the host returned, his bodyguards flanking him. He locked the door behind him again.

Alissa was in a white, sleeveless, stretch microminidress of a shining, practically glowing material called hologram. It scooped all the way down to just below her breasts, exposing her aureoles and crushed nipples, then opened again in a upright-football-shaped hole to reveal most of her torso to the very top of her thatch. The skirt's hem hardly covered the bottom of it.

On her legs were skin-tight white thigh-highs, and on her feet were five-inch ankle-strap high heel pumps. Her arms were wrenched behind her, thrusting her chest out, her wrists and elbows cinched with white electrical tape. In her gaping mouth was a huge white ring gag. A white, studded choker was tight around her throat.

Brianne was in a black lycra spandex corset-style microminidress which laced up in a "V" pattern from just above her tuft to the center of her chest, making her breasts bulge through the laces when they weren't being squeezed by the material. On her legs were black thigh highs with lace tops, and on her feet black, five-inch, ankle strap high heels. Her tape, ring gag, and choker were black as well.

The squatters were around them in a threatening semi-circle, keeping them from collapsing, shrieking, or running.

"Beautiful," breathed the host. "These are the girls who are missing, right?"

The electrician nodded.

"Beautiful," the host repeated. "All right, boys, take them."

The girls jerked in surprise and terror as the bodyguards instantly jumped them. Within seconds they were kicking and screaming on the well padded carpet, the huge men tossing the girls' legs wide as if they were rag dolls. Seconds later their cocks thudded onto the girls' pelvises and then their bodices were being torn open.

Hysterical with shock, terrified by the power, the girls screamed and writhed despite themselves, but the bodyguards were too intense. Before they were even completely aware that the sexy dresses were ripped open, their tits were in the men's paws, being squeezed so tight, the fingers nearly touched each other through the base of the breasts.

Silenced by the sharp pain, the girls' eyes bulged as, without pause, the bodyguards rammed their massive cocks inside them as if punching through cotton candy.

Both girls jerked on the floor, their bodies becoming flopping "V's". Even before they dropped down again, the men were violently fucking their brains out, the skirts at the girl's waists, the heels thudding the floor.

The girls' teeth clamped onto their ring gags, their neck tendons straining under the chokers. Their hands clawed beside their hips, trying desperately to reach their rapists. Then all they could do was try to survive as the men smashed them to the floor, mauling them, driving inside them like a thick round jack hammer.

The girls almost managed a scream when the bodyguards stood up. They held the hostages' hips, locking them to their loins, their limp legs and heads hanging down. The squatters watched their breasts roll toward their comatose faces and the electrician noted the way their hands hung toward the floor.

Then the men let go of the girls' hips. They slid off the moist logs, Brianne falling onto the white sofa, and Alissa falling onto the black. To the squatters' amazement, they landed sitting, their eyes rolling back into their heads.

The bodyguards looked at their boss, who nodded. The bodyguards looked back at their victims ... then shot their loads into the girls' open mouths.

It looked like a fountain stream of curdled cream exploding down their throats. The girls' eyes snapped open in renewed surprise, and, as they choked and sobbed, keening and coughing, the host politely had his bodyguards show the electrician and squatters out.

They all watched from the host's study as the party wound down. They stared into large, color video monitors which showed every angle of the enclosed, soundproofed living room. They watched as their host soothed and sodomized the girls one by one, wiping the cum from their faces, stroking their hair, milking their mams, embracing them tenderly, and forcing them to suck off his dick through the ring gag from a seated position as he stood before the couch, holding their hair.

"When you're paying this kind of money," they heard him mutter, "you better get head."

Then he carefully taped their crossed ankles together (white for Alissa, black for Brianne), buckled butt plugs and nine-inch studded vibrators into their cunts, taped thumb tacks onto their nipples, blindfolded them with squares of duct tape that held glass marbles against their closed lids, and shoved ambersol-soaked penis-shaped prods into their mouths.

He clicked on the battery-run dildos, then sat on the loveseat to watch. Within seconds the barely conscious, cum-splattered captives were groaning incoherently and beginning to squirm. Within moments they were contorting, light exploding under their lids, pain lightning from their chests, contractions cramping their loins, and numbness thickening their tongues and choking their throats.

He waited until the agonized girls started to slump again, then casually went over to cut open their elbow bonds. Suddenly they had more arm movement, and, despite their wrists still being cinched, they couldn't help trying to relieve the anguish at their eyes, mouths, chests, and cunts.

They all watched as the girls reached agonizingly for their faces, clawed at the sides of their tits, and arched their backs, trying to push the dildo-enclosing belts away. Alissa nearly got one thumb-tack off, but unbeknownst to her, the host merely dropped a piece of torn dress in the way, and her fingers slipped off it.

By then the two were exhausted again, and stilling. Shortly afterwards, he freed their legs and retreated. Again, try as they might to lose consciousness, the pressure on their eyes, the pain in their tits, and the surging of the dildos gave them no choice.




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