The House Ch 02 Measure Twice

Chapter 3: Measure Twice - in which Drew collects additional data about Kari.

Author's note - this story series is a fantasy of non-consent, including rape and kidnapping of a woman by many men and in many orifices. This chapter has a particular focus on incredibly inappropriate uses of various objects. Stay away if these are triggers for you, and enter joyously if these are your turnons. Luckily, a thorough embrace and enjoyment of these fantasies doesn't in any way endorse or imply approval of such actions in reality. If, after a wank to the happily crafted and entirely imaginary perversions below, you feel like doing some good in the world to alleviate such shitty realities, throw a couple bucks towards rainn.org and/or endhumantrafficking.org. Regardless, please enjoy!

*

After Evan leaves, the stinging slowly, slowly abates, and she somehow drifts back into sleep again even as the light behind the window blinds grows brighter.

Drew, unlike Evan, knocks sharply on the door, though he doesn't wait for a response before he opens it. Looks like that was enough though, because she's awake, blinking blurrily. She's still cuffed to the bed, her mouth still covered with duct tape.

She takes a glance at the light behind the blinds, and the change tells her some time has gone by.

He notices her glance even as he's putting down his bag of equipment, setting up his laptop on the small desk that sits perpendicular to the bed, near her feet. "Eleven thirty," He says, voice inflectionless. "Time to take your measurements."

She can see his screen from her position on the bed, though not clearly - it's just a little too far away. A spreadsheet?

He's opened the usual datasheet, where he's kept the measurements of every girl that's been in the house. This will be the dozenth row.

He looks at the bedside table, sees the mostly-squeezed lemon half. His nose wrinkles slightly and he picks it up carefully, as if it might be dirty, knowing Evan's habits.

He leaves the room - she heards a cabinet door open and close, then the sound of a running faucet. When he returns, she can see his hands are still slighty damp. He unzips the bag and reaches in.

First, a towel, which he lays over the bedside table. Then Drew carefully pulls out his tools, one by one. A spray bottle of disinfectant - rubbing alcohol, for its purity and its... bracing effects. Then a pair of vernier calipers (which looked to her like a ruler with a metal jaw on one side, with another that could slide back and forth, along with a small but telescoping metal spike - almost like an antenna, with tiny measurement markings - on the other end). A standard metal measuring tape, more typical to a construction site but useful for this purpose as well. A headlamp. A tiny bag containing two metal eyebooks and two clamps. A ball of string and a small pair of scissors. Several small, long spoons, and a set of stoppered vials. And then, a speculum, followed by a second one. Having neatly arranged the items on the towel, he takes a final survey and then gives a small nod. This will do.

He leaves the room a last time and returns with a stepstool. Grabbing the small bag, he tucks the ball of string under his arm and the small scissors into a pocket. He steps up to the top step, leaning slightly out over the bed. Her eyes go up and see two small metal holes in the ceiling, above her. He reaches into the small bag and then up, now holding a metal circle with what looked like a long screw sticking out of it. He begins screwing the straight part up into one of the holes, then does the same with the other. Now two metal loops stick down from the ceiling, right above her chest. He then takes the ball of string, unwinding a section that's long enough to reach from the ceiling down the mattress - he then doubles that and cuts, and feeds half of the length of string through the metal loop so it tickles on her chest, releasing the other end so it hangs down alongside.

As he does all this, she finds her eyes wandering over the profile of his body - slender, tall, his black skin faintly reflecting the sunlight, the wireframe glasses suiting his serious face. His hair is cropped close, dark like the rest of him. He's dressed casually, just a t-shirt and jeans, but he looks... she catches herself. Is she seriously checking out one of her kidnapper rapists? What the hell is wrong with her?

The string measuring and cutting routine is repeated for the other metal eye, leaving her with four ends of string resting on her tits from the ceiling, and he steps down the ladder, heedless of her discomfort or its potential reasons.

He sets the small bag down - she hears it clinking, so something must be left inside - and reaches over for the calipers. Opening them up, and brushing the dangling string ends aside, he places the stationary jaw so it just touches the outside edge of her breast. Then he slowly closes the moving jaw until it just starts to dig into the inner edge of her breast, then takes note of the number of the ruler. He goes to make a note in the spreadsheet, and returns.

This time, he moves the jaws much closer together, and moves it up towards her nipple. She watches nervously as he places the jaws on either side and then moves them together, slowly, until they just touch either side of her nipple. He pauses there, takes a reading - and then gradually pushes the outer jaw tighter, compressing her nipple between the two hard, metal edges. She watches in growing horror as her nipple is compressed - is he going to cut it off? Finally, the pain grows too much and she lets out a soft cry, audible through the muffling cotton and tape - immediately he stops, takes a second reading, and removes the calipers. Two numbers are added to the spreadsheet this time. As he goes back over to the side of the bed, she notices, despite the neutral expression on his face, that his cock is hard inside his jeans, pressing out against the denim.

He repeats the same three measurements - the width of her breast, the width of her nipple, and how narrow it can be squeezed before she cries out - on the other side. Then, placing the calipers back down, he picks back up the small bag and upends it into his hand. Two metal clips settle into his palm. They are long, and look almost like flat, metal clothespins with small teeth on the inside edges, with some kind of black, rubbery substance coating them. There's a metal loop at the very top.

He presses one open, reaching out and taking hold of one of her nipples. He holds the clip so that it points down towards her breast, carefully releasing it so the entire length of her nipple is captured, compressed, lengthened. The small teeth and rubbery coating grip on firmly. She groans through the gag. Then he grabs one of the dangling lengths of string, running it through the loop at the top of the clip and tying a quick knot. Finally, he takes the other end of the same string in one hand, and slowly begins to pull.

She watches in horrified fascination as her breast is pulled up by her nipple. It hurts fiercly, the cuts from this morning not really healed. But he keeps pulling, this time not stopping when she begins to moan in pain. He keeps pulling, very slowly, his eyes taking in every detail as her breast is stretched, her nipple crushed and held between the rubbery coated teeth.

He keeps going until it truly feels like the string cannot be pulled any farther. She's screaming now, behind the panties and duct tape. Her breast has been pulled into a long cone, her nipple distended in the clamp, the tiny veins beneath her tender flesh standing out pale blue on her taunt skin.

Holding the string still, now, he threads the end of it through the circle on the clamp and ties it off, leaving her breast stretched. Picking up the metal measuring tape, he places the cold metal tip at the base of her breast and carefully measures the height to which her tit has been stretched. Then, he squints carefully as he checks the length of her compressed nipple inside the long clamp. Those numbers go in the spreadsheet as tears gather and spill from her eyes, sobs of pain coming from deep in her chest.

He pauses for a moment, unzipping his pants and pulling out his erect cock. Standing next to her, looking down at her, the wet tracks on her face. He fists his cock once, twice, three times - then carefully puts it back away. He picks the last knot he tied loose, and lets a little slack into the string. Her breast still hangs painfully, but comparatively, it feels bearable, and her crying slows.

Of course, the next thing he does is repeat the whole affair on her other tit. The clamp, the string, the so-gradual pulling, the tie off, the measurement. She can't help herself, crying again, more tears, and once again he stops briefly while her breast is pulled unbearably tight, the other one dangling beside it, and unzips. One, two, three strokes, as he drinks in the sight of her abused tits, the sounds coming from behind her gag, and then back to business, loosening the string, so her breasts both hang, clamped and pulled high, with just enough slack to make it the pain manageable.

Drew pauses briefly to grab, don, and switch on the headlamp. Then he pulls the pillow from under her head abruptly, and manhandles it underneath her lower back and buttocks. Each time he moves her body while doing this it pulls on her nipples and she lets on a muffled shriek. Once the pillow is in place - lifting up her pelvis so both her cunt and ass are readily accessible - he briefly examines her cunt, swiping with his fingers to part her lips. Thick fluid oozes out, clinging to his fingers. He turns back to the bedside table, wiping his wet fingertips briefly on the edge of the towel and picking up the spray bottle and a speculum. Giving it a thorough spritzing, he moves it down and inserts it into her pussy in a long, smooth thrust. She grunts as the rounded metal edges bump up against her cervix, and flinches as the still-damp alcohol seeps into the tiny cuts inside her pussy, stinging deep in her cunt.

Now he begins to open the speculum, larger and larger. One inch, two, and then past it... she can feel her cunt aching more and more with each turn of the screw, sucking in breath sharply through her nose as she tries to cope with the pain building in her belly. Finally, he is satisfied that the speculum is open to its farthest reasonable extent. She feels as though her skin is about to tear.

He checks the diameter to which the speculum is open, records that. Then he picks up the measuring tape, and begins to extend it into her open cunt. She shudders at the scraping metallic sound.

He watches the tape go in, the thin metal unrolling bright yellow as it extends back into her open hole. He sees her jerk as the square metal tip brushes her insides, as a sharp edge bumps against the sensitive flesh. Leaning down, he looks up inside her, the light from his headlamp illuminating her wet, quivering cunt, reflecting off the tape. The straight edges stand out as completely unnatural against the curves of her inner walls, a foreign object that seems to rape her cunt while barely touching it. He shivers a little despite himself - and intentionally lets the end of the tape drop as he continues extending, ever so slowly, watching the shiny metal tip drag against her pussy flesh. He can see the tiny scratches, still red against the pink, and as the edge of the metal tape head catches, he wonders if its on her natural folds or on the still raw edges of those wounds.

The end of the tape bumps against something, and she jerks. He knows it's hit her cervix, that sensitive, tight gateway - but he pushes the tape a little farther anyway, depressing that inner flesh and bringing forth a long, deep groan of pain. He checks the final measure - eight inches and five sixteenths.

He contemplates letting the tape snap itself closed, but knows the chances are good that the resulting slice in her cunt would damage her permanently. So he gradually lets it slide back out, covered in shiny moisture, folding back into the roll. Her cunt is practically pouring with wetness - drops oozing out from inside and around the metal speculum, spilling down all the way to her asshole. He sets the tape measure aside, and picks up the shorter of the spoons.

He sprays it down briefly, and then picks up and unstoppers one of the vials, holding it in his other hand. He inserts the spoon up into her cunt, about an inch past the entrance, and digs it into her slick wall. In a slow, dragging motion, he scoops it down, the edge dragging against her inner flesh. Then he withdraws it - the spoon full of translucent liquid - and drops it into the vial, which he stoppers. He reaches out and picks up the second, longer spoon, the delicate handle about eight inches long.

He slides this spoon in - all the way in. Back up to the very end of her cunt, to her already abused cervix. And this one he digs in hard - pressing back and down, scratching, turning the spoon this way and that. He pulls it out a little and jams it back in, stabbing at her deepest flesh, using the curved metal instrument to scrape deeply inside her raw, stretched-open cunt. She moans, anguished and muffled. For a brief moment, his aloof manner slips and raw lust shows on his face. He fucks her wide open cunt with the spoon, out, then back in, banging her cervical opening with the metal tip over and over again, each time drawing a muffled scream from her. He puts the handle between his palms and spins it rapidly, the spoon slapping in circles deep inside her gaping pussy.

He swallows, and stops. A single, final swipe of the spoon deep in her cunt and he pulls it out, brimming full as well, but this come is slightly pinkish. He drops that into another vial, stoppers it. And reaches for the spray bottle - and the second speculum, slightly narrower than the first but just as long.

After cleaning it, he actually slides the closed anal speculum inside her still wide open pussy, rubbing it around to coat it with her flowing juices. Then he touches it to her asshole - already drenched on the outside from her gushing cunt - and begins to press it in.

She groans as he slides it up, up, the metal invading her tight anus. He pushes it all the way up and in, eight inches of cold metal sliding into her ass.

And then he starts to open it. One inch. Two inches. And past. He wants to open it as far as the one in her cunt, to stretch and force her asshole into a kind of twisted symmetry with her cunt. Her screams reverberate past the tape on her mouth but he keeps cranking, each eighth of an inch a new hell on her abused ass - but he gets what he wants. Two holes stretched over two and a half inches wide each.

For this one, though, he doesn't use the measuring tape. Instead he picks up the calipers, and extends the telescoping metal spike on the far end. A depth probe, with tiny, precise measurement markings. He slides it up into her open asshole, once again bending to get a clear view of her taut, stretched insides. Her tight anal passage gleams, as does the metal probe, and he presses it deep within her, past even the end of the speculum, pushing it past where her flesh puckers back together. He looks up and watches as her stomach tightens, cramp hitting her, and he wiggles the probe slightly, watching her twitch in response. Then his eyes go up farther, to dangling breasts - nipples pinched and horribly red in the clamps, hanging from the long strings. Then back to her inner ass. It seems the probe won't go any farther - at least without risk of tearing something - so he takes the measurement - ten inches and three eighths, not too bad - and withdraws the probe.

He stands up, walks to her head, and rips the duct tape off - muffled scream - then pulls out the wadded remains of her panties. She spits and coughs, moaning, trying to hold still so she doesn't pull on her breasts.

"You can ask one question." He says, flatly.

"Wha...." she can barely make words, her mind completely jumbled. Finally, she manages, softly, "Why are you doing this?"

"The measurements will let us make things that fit you. Or don't just barely fit you. Evan particularly prefers that, actually."

"That's not what I..."

"You've had your one question. Now shut up." His voice is cold, and she finds herself obeying. He unzips his pants again, pulls his cock back out. It stands up, dark and slender and long, like him. Maybe nine inches total. He reaches down, unscrews the anal speculum, slides it out, places it aside. Then he gets up on the bed.

She watches, dumbfounded, as he does the same thing to his cock as he did to the anal speculum - slips it inside her gaping cunt, rubs it around, coating it with liquid from inside her gaping pussy. His eyes burn into hers, and she can almost hear him saying it: _Slut. Filthy wet whore._

Then, leaving the speculum in her cunt, he places his cockhead against her anus and begins to push.

"Oh no, god, you can't..."

He buries his cockhead inside her roughly, then shoves again, burning another two inches. The sharp thrusts cause her breasts to move and bounce, and he reaches one hand up and slaps her right tit, pulling more, the strung up clamp digging cruelly into her nipple. She screams in anguish.

He pulls his cock back out, and starts again, this time agonizingly slow. With the speculum still stretching her pussy, her ass feels impossibly tight, even having just held the wide speculum. Each slow inch seems to hurt more than the last. He reaches up suddenly, grabs the clamps on her nipples, and releases them.

"OH FUCK -" Far worse than anything that's been done to them so far, she feels the blood rushing back into her abused nipples and she howls, her arms pulling sharply and ineffectually against the cuffs.

And then he seizes her throbbing, burning nipples tightly, one in each hand, and it feels like he uses them to pull himself the rest of the way up into her ass.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh - " Her scream becomes wordless. Pain. Her cunt is stretched wider than it's ever been, nine inches of cock are raping her ass, and as he starts to fuck her in earnest she can feel his grip tightening on her nipples. Everything hurts.

He lets go of one nipple and reaches down. She jolts, as if electrocuted, as his fingers find her clit, above her wide stretched pussy. Swiping the juice dripping from her pussy, he begins to rub it, watching her face.

"You're going to come with an eight inch speculum in your cunt and a nine inch cock fucking your ass, after having your tits hung from the ceiling for over twenty minutes." He says matter of factly, even as sweat beads on his brow. Then he pauses in fucking her ass, in rubbing her clit, and she shakes beneath him as he reaches over to the table - grabs another long spoon, like the one he'd shoved deep in her cunt before. And for the first time, he smiles, as he slides the spoon up inside her wide-open cunt. It's just long enough that a bit of the handle pokes out. He reaches down and starts rubbing her clit again.

"Correction. You're going to come with an eight inch speculum spreading your gaping cunt - open over two and a half inches wide - with a nine inch cock raping your fucking ass, after having your tits tortured and hung up for almost half an hour -" and here he slams his cock into her ass all the way, and his pelvis rams into the end of the spoon, driving it up and slamming its metal end deep inside her pussy, crushing against her most tender inner flesh - "while a metal spoon is pounded up into your fucking cervix and one of your nipples is being crushed." And the fingers of his left hand make good on that last promise, grabbing the tender tip of her breast, and squeezing it, rubbing it. And as he pulls his cock halfway out and drives it back in - slamming the spoon, digging it in deep again - his right hand moves back to her clit, flicking it sharply. "Oh, and while I abuse your fucking clit." He flicks it again, hard. Fucks her ass. Slams the spoon. Grinds her nipple. Flick. Fuck. Slam. Grind.