The Bunghole Mystery Ch 03

Chapter Three: Unguarded

Mary awakened to the sight of Betty's beautiful face cuddled up close to hers. Mabel was not in bed with them, and had apparently left the bungalow. Mary and Betty had stayed up all night having sex. Mabel was a heavy sleeper!

She had left a note that said simply, "Thank you to the owners of this bungalow. It rescued us from a deadly storm. Sorry about the missing cocoa! Yours Truly, Three Grateful Girls."

They found some old hiking shorts for Betty to wear. She had lost her skirt and panties in the boating accident. They added to the note, "PS: Thanks for the pair of shorts."

Mabel's hotel, The Mountypego, was nearby. They decided to check on her before catching a cab from there back to the Woodpeak Motel. "Are all the hotels around here metaphors for penises?" mused Mary, and Betty laughed.

The two friends got to the lobby of the Mountypego. An annoying lady was there in front of them causing trouble. She was talking very loudly to the hotel manager over the front desk. The manager's voice was very soft, trying to calm her.

The lady shrieked, "I'm here to meet my ward, Mabel Quincy, but she's nowhere to be found. Oh, she's in the restaurant? Why didn't you tell me that the first time? Or the second? Or the third? Your staff is completely incompetent and unhelpful. I don't care that you had ten staff running all over trying to find her! You should have known where she was all along! She's only a child! I don't care what her driver's license says! She's only a child!" Very quietly, the manager had called this shrieking maniac Mrs. Beorn.

Mrs. Beorn stormed into the restaurant. "There you are!" she screamed at Mabel. "Listen carefully, my new ward," the insufferable woman growled. "You will report to my hotel room for your interview, room 512, at exactly 10:30 AM this morning. That's in half an hour. Don't be early or late, or you will regret it." The woman stormed off.

Mary said, "Betty, we'd better go find a place to hide in this lady's hotel room. We need to see this 'interview' and make sure Mabel is actually in safe hands. Mrs. Beorn seems off her rocker."

Mary and Betty took the elevator to the fifth floor. Not surprisingly, the door was locked. Mary knocked and nobody answered. Mrs. Beorn wasn't in the room.

Mary found a bellhop on the floor. She said she'd lost her room key. Would he please let her in? She explained her mother Mrs. Beorn would be angry. She made this request while stroking the bellhop's penis through his pants. Once he let the girls in, Mary fell to her knees and unzipped the grateful bellhop. She finished him off with her mouth, neatly swallowing his product. The bellhop let himself out.

The angry Mrs. Beorn's room was a suite. Figuring that this interview would be held in the main area, Mary and Betty hid in the coat closet. The door had ventilation slats in it that gave a virtually unobscured view of the entire living area. Then they waited.

They didn't have to wait long before Mrs. Beorn stormed in carrying, of all things, a rope with a meat hook tied onto one end of it. She threw this over the chandelier so the hook hung down. She tied the other end of the rope off on a wall sconce.

The girls looked at each other with dread. "Whatever you do, Betty," said Mary, "don't give us away. We're intruders in this lady's hotel room. If she finds us, she has the perfect right to kill us and call it self-defense."

Mabel arrived shortly after. "There you are!" said Mrs. Beorn. "And you are... right on time. Well, it's a good thing to see that you can at least do SOMETHING right."

"What's the hook for?" Mabel asked suspiciously.

Mrs. Beorn walked past the girl and locked the hotel room door. Standing between her and the door, she asked, "Tell me, what's your name again? Mabel. Are you a dirty trollop?"

"I beg your pardon?" said Mabel.

"Are you intact?" Mrs. Beorn. "As my ward, you must be a virgin. If you've ever had a boy between your knees, matters will go worse for you. I can't abide a girl who's a dirty trollop."

"I have a hymen," Mabel said with great embarrassment. Good thing that, thought Mary. Many girls never had one. Of the ones that did, there were a hundred ways to lose your hymen other than a boy.

"Well then," said Mrs. Beorn, smiling. "Let's see it."

"What?" said Mabel, confused.

"Well, you didn't think I'd take your word for it, did you?" said Mrs. Beorn, the anger rising in her voice. "Present your dirty cunt for inspection at once!"

Mabel was frozen on the spot. Mary saw the realization in her eyes.

Whatever their age, until they were twenty-one, wards were slaves to their guardians, who legally controlled their fortunes and their lives. If she disobeyed this woman, her life was basically over, from a legal standpoint.

Gritting her teeth in disgust, Mabel dropped her panties and stepped out of them.

"Well, come closer," the woman barked, "and bring that chair with you."

Mabel complied, and stood directly before the woman.

"How do you expect me to fish around in your disgusting cunt with your legs closed? One leg up on the chair, before I lose my patience!" That already happened a long time ago, thought Mary, along with her marbles.

Mabel sullenly put one foot on the chair. Mrs. Beorn reached under Mabel's dress and fussed around. As the woman did this, the look on Mabel's face was one of utter torment.

Mary had seen that look before, during her week as a sex slave. She vowed in that instant that Mrs. Beorn would pay dearly. She would be paid back a thousand fold.

"Well it seems you weren't lying," said Mrs. Beorn, removing her hand and wiping it with a handkerchief. "And a good thing, too. The only suitable position for a trollop is on her back in a $2 brothel under 50 johns a day. Would you like that?"

"No ma'am," Mabel said quietly.

"Now, you can aspire to be a toy, if you can pass the test," said Mrs. Beorn. "Until then, you're still a trollop."

"A toy ma'am?" Mabel asked. The girl was in so much shock, she still had her legs spread and one foot up on the chair.

As the exchange continued, Mrs. Beorn walked behind Mabel, as if to inspect her from all angles. Mrs. Beorn produced a small cord with slipknots on either end. She slipped an end over one of Mabel's wrists and pulled it tight. She pulled Mabel's other wrist back. In a deft move, before the girl could gain any leverage, Mrs. Beorn captured that wrist as well.

Now Mabel's hands were tied behind her back. Mrs. Beorn held onto the cord binding Mabel's hands so she couldn't run away.

In their hiding place, Betty gasped in shock at the sudden attack on Mabel. Mary shoved her hanky into Betty's mouth and clamped her hand over that. Luckily, Betty's gasp had been drowned out by Mabel's cry of fear.

Mrs. Beorn yanked Mabel's arms up behind her sharply and put the cord binding her wrists over the meat hook. "Take your foot off that chair, silly girl. You'll dislocate your shoulder."

Mabel stepped down off the chair. Mrs. Beorn pulled on the other end of the meat hook rope. Mabel, her arms forced painfully up behind her, stood uncomfortably on her tiptoes. Mrs. Beorn retied her end tightly on the wall sconce.

"It's a funny thing about this hotel. It's the reason why I chose it. It's rebuilt. The first version burnt down because a chandelier fell in one of the guest rooms. That was back in the days of gas lighting. The hotel is now rewired with electric lights. But all the ceiling fixtures, even the wall sconces, can still take the weight of two men. Isn't that handy? I thought so."

Mrs. Beorn produced a tennis ball with a leather cord punched through it. In her other hand, she held a syringe filled with a clear fluid. "Much as I love to hear in detail your cries of fear, this is a respectable establishment. You're going to open your mouth very wide and I'm going to put this tennis ball into it. If you'd rather not, here's the shot of heroin that will take you to your $2 brothel."

Mabel opened her mouth wide, her eyes filled with fear. Mrs. Beorn shoved the tennis ball into it and tied the leather cord tightly behind Mabel's head.

"Your toes and arms are hurting aren't they? Simply nod if they are, stupid girl! I thought so." Mrs. Beorn pulled up two chairs and helped Mabel get up onto them on her knees. She pulled the two chairs apart so that Mabel's arms were pulled up more tightly behind her, but not as tight as before.

Mrs. Beorn spent some time adjusting Mabel, the chairs, and the hook. Mabel's legs were spread wide with her knees on the two chairs. Her hands were pulled behind her tightly enough to limit her freedom of movement, but not as painfully tight as before. Mrs. Beorn took the cushions off the nearby couch and put them on the floor between the two chairs, underneath Mabel.

Mrs. Beorn produced a sharp scissors and roughly cut Mabel's clothes off her body. As the pieces fell onto the couch cushions between the chairs, Mrs. Beorn spoke. "You will be my husband's sexual plaything twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Some of my husband's toys haven't lasted all that long. Let's both hope you are more durable."

Mabel lost her composure and emptied her bladder onto the couch cushions below.

"Oh look at that," chortled Mrs. Beorn. "I was wondering when you would piss in fear. There's more where that came from, I'd wager. We'll find out. You don't know what fear is yet."

As Mrs. Beorn kept cutting, she kept talking. "The only rule you need to know from now on is that my husband is not allowed any cunt other than MINE. You will NEVER get his dick in your cunt. You will never get a BABY in your cunt. You will never get ANY dick in your cunt. I will check you periodically. If you are not intact, or if I even think I smell semen in your cunt, your life is forfeit. Do I make myself clear? Nod, you stupid girl. Or your heroin injection and $2 brothel await. That's better."

Mrs. Beorn brought over and showed Mabel an object that looked like a wooden dagger. Instead of a blade, it had a delicately carved wooden penis. It was on the long side, 7" long and average girth, by Mary's estimation. When Mabel saw it, another squirt of fearful pee shot out of her.

Mrs. Beorn chuckled. "This is an exact replica of my husband's penis. He'll fuck you whenever I want to watch. You are to be prepared at all times. I'll start you off this time." She rolled a latex condom onto the phallus. She produced a container of shortening. She slathered some of it on the phallus. She slathered more on Mabel's backside and worked it into her with first one and then two fingers.

Mrs. Beorn put the phallus against Mabel's anus. With a deft jerk, Mrs. Beorn lodged the head in Mabel's rectum. Mabel almost fell forward off the chairs. Mrs. Beorn steadied her.

"Don't fall forward girl! You'll lose both your arms!" instructed Mrs. Beorn. "I'm not going to steady you again." she threatened.

"Steady on it girl! Control yourself!" ordered Mrs. Beorn in frustration. "Are you ready?" Mary could see Mabel bite down firmly on the tennis ball. She held steady and even pushed back to keep her balance. Mrs. Beorn rocked the phallus farther and farther into her rectum. Soon the woman was pumping the full length of the phallus in and out of the helpless girl with increasing speed.

"This is your entire future, ungrateful girl," Mrs. Beorn pointed out. "Love the shape of my husband's cock. Learn to authentically love it. Show me you love it. Everything will be easier for you then."

As tears poured down Mabel's face, Mrs. Beorn suddenly stopped the phallus. "Oh, where are my manners?" Leaving the phallus buried in Mabel's rectum, she fetched a portable massager much like the model Mary owned. It had straps on it. Mrs. Beorn strapped the device to Mabel's pelvic area. "My husband made me promise to be nicer to his toys. We wouldn't want you to kill yourself like the last one, oh no."

Mrs. Beorn turned the device on, high and loud. Mabel jumped. Her eyes fell shut and then opened again. Mrs. Beorn went back to churning the phallus in Mabel's behind as if she were churning some particularly reluctant butter.

Mabel's legs shook. Mrs. Beorn said, "You're getting close, girl. We don't want you to lose your arms, do we? I'm not an ogre. Here, I'll steady you." Mrs. Beorn took a leather belt and looped it around Mabel's neck. She got a dagger and held it reversed in the same hand holding the phallus forward. Was she planning to kill Mabel?

She churned Mabel with her phallus and dagger hand while choking her with the belt in the other. As Mabel's face turned red from lack of air, Mrs. Beorn spoke to her. "Since this is a hotel, and we must maintain reasonable propriety, you get the gag. Once we get you settled at home, I'm eager to hear your screams while I watch. The louder the better. But my husband is weak. He can't finish if his little plaything is screaming in pain. So he will choke you exactly like this at the end. He likes you to pass out just as he ejaculates into you. That way he feels the shudders and contractions of your anus as you give up the fight for life. Show me now, girl. Show me how you'll fight for life. Yesss, there's the rest of your piss. Let it all... out."

Mabel's face was now dark purple and her eyes were bugged out. Her body shook in a terrible frenzy, part orgasm, part death throe. As Mabel's body went limp, Mrs. Beorn's dagger flashed up and cut the cord binding Mabel's wrists together, saving her arms.

The unconscious girl fell like a rag doll face-first into the urine-soaked couch cushions on the floor. "Perfect landing," said Mrs. Beorn. "We wouldn't want to leave any marks on your pretty face."

(To be continued)