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Playthings (Simon Grail)

Playthings by Simon Grail

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Young, pretty and respectable trained nannies Grace Cadbury and Mary Redfern never expected to be plunged into a den of vice in picturesque Foxglove Manor deep in the English countryside in 1965. But that is what happens when they are hired to for a week to supposedly to look after identical twins Castor and Pollux Harrington. Because Castor and Pollux turn out to be brilliant but twisted nineteen-year-olds with a taste for sexual experimentation, domination and sadism, who have been regularly supplied with innocent female playthings by their doting and equally eccentric parents.

Soon Grace and Mary have been stripped naked, leashed and collared and are imprisoned in the twins’ segregated half of the Manor House, which is dedicated to games of mastery and humiliation using their store of forbidding and debasing devices. They are subjected to ingenious restraints, intimate electric stimulation, repeated caning and spanking, play a twisted game of naked snooker, undergo both mutual and self-degradation, race round a track of electric chains to avoid a shameful penalty, have to perform menial tasks in very strange ways, and endure many shameful games in the garden.

Can they survive seven days of such sexual debauchery? And if that was that was not bad enough, Grace and Mary find their feelings towards each other are growing into something unexpected, intense and quite improper. Is this also part of the twin’s game or are their own secret natures being exposed? Perhaps they will find out when Castor and Pollux put their affection to the ultimate, intense and mortifying test.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 3 / 2019

No. words: 27800

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Sado-Masochism (SM), Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual BDSM

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt from: “Playthings”

Mary and Grace have just undergone their first session of sex and domination with the terrible twins Castor and Pollux…

When Mary became aware of herself again, she found she was still in the games room, but she had been freed from the straps and pillory boards. She was lathered in drying sweat and her legs were hanging half off the side of the table. Her vulva ached and throbbed and dripped a slime of male sperm and lubricating juices. Beside her Grace lolled and drooled feebly, appearing only half conscious and stunned.
The twins were slapping her and Grace to revive them.
‘Whoever had them first didn’t do a good job,’ Pollux commented.
‘Might as well have been first time virgins,’ Castor agreed. ‘They’re going to be so much fun to play with…’
They dragged Mary and Grace off the table onto their knees and pointed to where a bucket and sponges were waiting, and then at the mess of cold urine, female discharge and splattered sperm covered the floor.
‘Get that cleaned up,’ they commanded. ‘Then we’ll take you to the bathroom…’
* * *
The bathroom was upstairs and very well appointed, with a glass panel shielding the head of a big bathtub with a large shower rose hung above it.
Dazed, aching, shocked and humiliated, Grace felt she desperately needed the chance to clean herself up, at least on the outside, and to get Castor’s sperm out of her vagina. That might make her feel a little cleaner. But driven along by flicks from the twin’s canes as if they were being herded like cattle, it was not as simple as that.
‘You’ve got no privacy for the next week so to get used to it,’ Pollux said. ‘Use the toilet and then the hose. Wash yourselves clean inside and out…’
Miserably they took turns sitting on the toilet under Castor and Pollux’s shamelessly and fascinated gaze to expel what remained in their bladders and the contents of their bowels. Then they used a rubber hose connected to the wash basin taps as an enema tube to clean their rectums. Then they had to take turns bending over the toilet bowl while the other one scooped up Vaseline from a large tub and work it up into their bottoms.
‘We might want to have you up your bums at any time so they’ve got to be kept fresh, clean and well-greased,’ Castor explained.
‘Remember, you might have to suck our cocks clean afterwards so do a good job,’ Pollux warned them.
Grace shuddered at the feel of Mary’s unwilling finger being pushed up into her bottom and then had to grit her teeth as she performed the same service on Mary. She had never touched a woman like that before. Embarrassingly she felt her nipples standing up.
But this imposed intimacy did not stop there.
The boys unbuckled their bridles, freeing their heads, and then their collars. Castor told them: ‘Get into the bath together and use the shower to wash yourselves off.’
‘But you have to soap each other’s tits, bums and pussies,’ Pollux told them.
They hardly dare look each other in the eye as they performed these intimate tasks upon each other’s bodies, acutely aware of the twins’ gaze upon them. But what was even worse they found themselves responding to this intimate contact. Despite what they had endured they found their vulvas swelling and sticky and their nipples standing up.
The boys could see their reactions as well and the burning embarrassment on their faces. ‘You see, getting to know each other can be fun,’ Castor said with a chuckle.
Pollux checked his watch. ‘All right, get out and dry yourselves off. It’s getting late. Nearly time for supper. I hope you can cook…’
* * *
Both Grace and Mary could cook, of course. It was part of their training as professional nannies. But they never imagined doing so in such circumstances.
Bridled and collared once more they stood at the kitchen, which was as well fitted out as the bathroom had been, preparing an evening meal while naked and hobbled by twelve-inch long chains padlocked about their ankles, restricting them to small delicate steps in case they took it into their heads to try to run away. Their ball gags hung down under their chins: there as a warning if needed. They kept very quiet as they worked so as not to invite their replacement.
The kitchen had a well-stocked larder and a large refrigerator holding plenty of food for four for a week. There was no reason for anybody to go out shopping or for deliveries to be made and so risk the security and secrets of the house being compromised. All it needed was a cook and a maid and now it had them.
Castor and Pollux sat at the dining table watching them as they cooked, as per their instructions, spam omelettes for four people. Perhaps it was fortunate it was such a simple meal to prepare, because at that moment they might have made a mess of anything more complicated. Shamed, abused, frightened and humiliated, they kept glancing into each other’s eyes to assure themselves that it was real and that they were not alone in their suffering. It was a small consolation but it was all that kept them from breaking down and crying.
There was another device in the kitchen in one corner. Two polished metal dog bowls were set out beneath a rectangular upright frame a couple of feet high which had a pair of sprung chains with large hooks on their ends dangling from its crossbar. The girls looked at it with trepidation.
When the omelettes were ready they meekly served them out to Castor and Pollux. Then Castor said: ‘Cut yours up and put it in the dog bowls. Then get your heads down over them with your bottoms up…’
Trembling, the women obeyed. Castor and Pollux stretched the chains down from the bar above the bowls and pushed the large hooks up into their greased bottoms.
‘We want to have a nice view while we eat, so you keep your heads down and bottoms up to give us a show of those pretty pussies,’ Castor said. ‘Don’t use your hands just your lips and tongue.’
‘And we want to see those bowls licked clean like good dogs do,’ Pollux added. The women moaned in shame and he flicked their bottoms with his cane. ‘Get used to it. This is the way you’re going to eat every meal...’
Miserably the girls ate out of the bowls as well as they could using only their mouths, while acutely conscious of the obscene display they were making of themselves. The unnatural pressure of the hooks inside their anal rings made them clench on them and squirm which only added to the spectacle.
When they were all finished, of course, Grace and Mary had to wash up. Only when the kitchen was sparkling clean again did the twins lead the girls, still hobbled, through to the big living room. There they made them kneel down in front of their armchairs, folding themselves up tight so the twins could sit back with their legs up and rest their feet on their bare backs while they watched television.
* * *
It was 11 o’clock when programs finished and the twins switched off the downstairs lights and led the stiff cold girls upstairs to the bathroom. Here they were permitted to perform their final ablutions and clean their teeth before being taken along the landing to the door of a bedroom.
Apparently the twins still shared a single large room. Its ceiling was painted black but studded with metal foil stars - a childish piece of decoration which now seemed sinister. If that was not reminder enough of the strange nature of their captors, the room’s two single beds were enclosed within smaller versions of the black painted scaffolding frame they had seen in the games room, from which dangled assorted chains and cuffs.
How many women before them had they entertained here, Grace wondered?
‘Now we’re each going to have you to ourselves,’ Castor told them.
‘Of course we’ll swap you around every night,’ Pollux added.
‘If you give us one last good screw, then we’ll let you sleep in the beds with us where it’s nice and warm,’ Castor explained.
‘But if you don’t then you’ll sleep on the floor boards chained underneath them,’ Pollux warned them.
It was the cruellest kind of blackmail but at that moment they could not face such a prospect. They were too tired, worn out and shocked to have much energy left to care about their pride and self-respect, which was at a very low ebb. Miserably they said: ‘we’ll be good, Sirs…’
Pollux chose Grace to share his bed while Castor took Mary.
They removed their hobble chains and made the women squat on the beds facing the headboards. They strapped their wrists up behind their backs again and then hooked sprung chains connected to one of the crossbars of the bed frames to the big rings on top of their bridles, holding them upright. Then the boys undressed and got into the beds underneath them and slid down between their splayed thighs and until their swelling penises rubbed against the women’s clefts.
The boys stroked and pinched their breasts, warming them and manipulating their nipples into reluctant erection. As they did so their vulvas, responding to the intimate simulation, began to warm and grow slick with lubrication.
Grace bit her lip but said nothing and allowed Pollux’s penis to slide up inside her. The quicker she got it over with and satisfied him the better. Then she would only have to share a bed with him all night! Oh God! Still that was better than sleeping on bare boards…
‘Move your hips,’ Pollux commanded and she obeyed, and jerking them backwards and forwards, swaying from her suspended head and beginning to ride his stiff erection. A gasping and a squeaking of scaffolding joints from the other bed told her that Mary was doing the same.
Grace felt her loins beginning to grow hot and excited. If she shut her eyes and pretended it was somebody she actually liked under her, some handsome film star she had fantasised over, then perhaps she could do this.
But of course it was not as simple as that.
From underneath their pillows the boys brought out table tennis bats. These had a dozen drawing pins driven through them so that their tips protruded from out of the rubber facings on one side.
Grace’s eyed grew wide in horror. ‘No… Please Sir don’t… eeek!’
Pollux had smacked it across her breasts forehand and backhand, flattening her nipples and digging the sharp little pin tips into them. Fleshy smacks and a terrible scream from the other bed told that Castor had done the same to Mary.
‘Harder! Faster! You can do better than that!’ Castor commanded. ‘We want to feel your cunts properly tight about us!’
Sobbing and terrified the women obeyed, frantically riding their captors’ hard cocks, squeezing with desperate passion about them. Their simmering stinging breasts jiggled and bounced across their chests, making their masters grin in delight. They began to pat and tap their bouncing orbs with their spiked bats, flicking and bouncing them about, smacking and slapping and spanking them encouragingly.
The twins spouted up into Grace and Mary’s desperate vaginas and to their shame they responded half out of relief by disgorging their own orgasmic juices over them. Then they hung from their sprung hooks with their heads twisted sideways, looking bleary down at their stinging, smarting, heaving breasts which were now peppered with little pricks and scratches.
‘Not bad,’ Pollux said. ‘You can keep me warm tonight…’
And just for a moment Grace felt a brief thrill of joy.
The twins unhooked their bridle rings from the bed frames and then pushed the gags back into their mouths. Then they attached chains from the headboards of the beds to the girls’ collar rings. Finally they pulled them down underneath the bedclothes with them.
Just before the twins turned out their bedside lights, Grace and Mary glimpsed each other’s weary, tear-streaked, despairing faces, with their cheeks bulging about their ball gags. This had been the end of just half a day in Foxglove Manor as the twins’ playthings. How could they possibly survive a week of such treatment?

Author Information

Simon Grail is an artist and author of many strong BDSM content A1 books, including the best sellers "Sex Slave Holiday","Hell School for Teachers" and "The Young Women of St Evals" and "The Bagatelle Club". Past works include:"The Purgatory Club" trilogy, the "Bondmaid" Saga sextet, the "Lesbian MILF Blackmail Gang", "Sisterhood of Submission", the "Dragon School" and "Castle of Slaves" novels, and several short stories including the ongoing "Breaking in..." and "Nightmare in..." series.


Publisher Information

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