Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*****
Beware! Lesbian bondage and butt sex! (Unless you like that sort of thing).
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The tears of anger and frustration dry, but their salt leaves her eyes aching. Kneeling in bondage, naked, helpless, was not how she envisioned spending her holiday. Her face is uncomfortably hot, encased in a barely breathable fabric covering. Her jaw aches, her mouth is wedged open and stuffed with rubber. Her spit has run under her chin, leaving filthy trails on her pristine breasts. Those neat mounds are pulled taught by her posture, nipples erect and sensitive to the persistent draft.
The rest of her naked body is so cold and uncomfortable. Hands bound firmly overhead, thighs spread embarrassingly wide below by some kind of metal rod. Her soft knees suffer on a hard tiled surface whenever she moves. Her sex and underarms still smart from the attention they got last time she woke, hairless for the first time in her adult life.
She whimpers with bitter self loathing as her bladder finally loses the battle for containment.
Who would dare do such a thing to her, and why?
The irony is that someone else always took care of Ramona's needs. The youngest child of four and the only daughter, a casual observer might assume she was somewhat spoiled. From her earliest memories there was a nanny or nurse or guard not only to protect and provide for her but to control her of course. A tutor, and a carefully curated set of friends and acquaintances shaped her social experiences and limited her education. While the rest of the world was opening up, letting their hair down in the summer of love, Ramona felt like an exhibit from a bygone era.
Her needs grew. But every attempt to meet new people or try new things was met with tightened restrictions and a fuller schedule. Last year, just after her nineteenth birthday Ramona began to feel very low. There just didn't seem to be an end in sight for her childhood. She had mentioned marriage to mother and father, but they were very tight lipped about it and she was very subtly punished. No riding lesson that week and no swimming, instead; extra latin.
This can't have anything to do with that, can it? She shifts her shoulders and immediately regrets it as pins and needles set into her hands and her calf cramps. Her stomach immediately follows; a wave of hunger wracks her body and her sobs redouble. She's eaten nothing for what feels like days.
The family had flown out to Monaco together for the annual pilgrimage to see Nonna Valentino, mother's grandmother. Among cousins and old friends Ramona's time was always less regimented. Down by the pool and at dinner, the conversation was very proper. That only amplified the significance of cousin Salvatore's actions. A subtle brush against her hand as he reached across the table. A less subtle foot rubbing up against her ankle. And his beautiful eyes, lingering on her. They were perfect for each other. So why stifle her interests? That night was the last she slept in a bed.
Movement in the room and a stronger draft chills her wet thigh. Two feminine voices giggling together in italian, neither of them familiar. Ramona stays perfectly still as a hot hands cup her damp breasts and one whispers to the other what a disgusting pig this english girl is, pissing herself, drooling all over her tits. Ramona weeps angry tears but doesn't make any protest.
They soap her down with hot water, scrubbing her helpless body with vigor especially between her legs. Ramona bucks and writhes at how uncomfortable it makes her wrists. The two tormentors unhook her arms and allow her to rest on her hands and knees.
"We will have to clean her face, no?"
"No. Only the Donna may see her face. Come help me with her tight ass."
Ramona whimpers in shame as they ply open her backside with their slender fingers just enough to admit something long and narrow that they thread up into her. Then that small but embarrassing discomfort pales as the blood returns to her tortured hands.
"Aw, poor little thing." One of them notices and comes to rub the life back into them. "Give her a minute to relax?"
"A little massage? A facial?" The other laughs.
"Don't you be cruel. A little rub. A little comfort. Relax english girl. We have to clean inside and out. Lift up your bottom put your head down."
A delicious warm feeling pools in her belly, and the kind woman strokes the skin between Ramona's shoulder blades. The feeling of warmth and fullness grows and Ramona can't help taking comfort after all. The other girl rubs firmly against Ramona's sex and her body responds. However degrading this is it beats the agony and loneliness of hanging in the dark.
Ramona soon changes her mind when all that fluid demands to come out. The pair of them hold her over a holes in the floor, and rub her belly as sweet smelling liquid pours out of her in torrents, followed at last by the stinking remains of that distant dinner.
"One more, english girl. Come on."
This time her whole body is shaking as they fill her belly. The liquid is cooler now, barely warmer than the air, but this time her bowels run clean. Another merciless scrub of her thighs and they unfasten her hands completely. Ramona doesn't fight, that would be futile. Instead she grasps the kind girl's hands and brings them to her stuffed mouth in a pathetic gesture of thanks.
"Aw, how sweet," the girl says sadly, fondling Ramona's tits again.
Freedom is fleeting. They bind her hands behind her this time and unshackle her feet from the horrid spreader only to bind her wrist and ankles together. Then they roll her off the cold tiles onto some kind of fabric sling and her stomach lurches as they lift her off the ground.
It's highly disorienting, the sounds, the temperature, the light levels, together with the irregular movement of the girls carrying her. Nothing offers much clue as to where she is, but in her heart she knows. She's not been kidnapped. She's not been taken anywhere. This is a progression of what has gone before, that's all.
She's crying again when the movement stops. There is a knock and a door opens. The calm, somewhat familiar voice of Nonna's butler bids them leave 'it' on the couch.
She lands breasts down as they tip her out onto the plush silk velvet. Days ago she took coffee here with her parents and Nonna Valentino. This really is a nightmare. The animal brain wants to scream and struggle, but the greater part of her accepts that such behaviour will be discouraged by the harshest means. Harsher than this? Her body shudders with deep sobs.
Strong hands turn her bound body over, Ramona forces her knees together despite the extra pull on her wrists and shoulders.
"Oh, I am very proud of you." That voice could be Nonna's perhaps? But it sounds so vital, so primal, so... "Look how much you've grown."
Ramona freezes as her erect nipple is gently rolled between fingers, patiently stroked and fondled, teased until her shoulders relax and her knees inevitably fall open. The girl moans and shakes her head in despair.
"It's just us now. I'm not going to untie you, however much you beg, and if you're rude to me I promise you will regret it. Now. Let's see your face, perfect little maiden of mine."
The bag is yanked roughly off her head. The light is too bright and Ramona yelps as a lock of hair catches in the strings. As her eyes adjust, she screams bloody murder.
Black eyes without centre, without reflection, peer down at her. Nonna Valentino's heart shaped face is twisted in a leer of amusement. Between her soft pink lips is an array of neat little blood stained fangs.
"Oh my dear heart," she laughs, "I wish you could see your face!"
Ramona presses her eyes shut tight and hyperventilates for a handful of seconds before daring to look again. It's only Nonna, just as she should be, only that teasing hand returns to her peaked nipple, and now her smile is a little sad.
"We'll keep the glamour for now then, Piccola." She leans across and pulls something out of Ramona's mouth. The girl coughs as the rubber gag slips free leaving her teeth propped open by a sturdy metal ring.
"I trust you remember what I said before?" Nonna says sternly.
Ramona nods, her head barely moves.
