Clairiel was in a wonderful place, indescribable, but wonderful nonetheless. Delicious sensations seemed to flow over and through her, neither stopping nor starting, just being. She was perfectly content, and would have remained so had it not been for the sudden, unwelcome thumps. First a small one, but soon the thumps came with more frequency. Suddenly her eyelids flew open with the realization of where she really was. When her vision focused Clairiel determined that she was hanging upside down. She stretched her head forward in an effort to look up at her feet. She saw that they were secured in inversion boots, and also, that her impenetrable latex superheroine outfit was gone, and in its place was ... nothing. As she considered her predicament she was startled by something moving in front of her. It was a small, hideously ugly face. Its eyes glared at her.
It was a monkey's face. She let out a gasp. The monkey screamed at her and ran away. The movement caused her to sway back and forth slightly. She looked around the room as best she could. She was alone. She could tell no one was behind her because of the full-length mirror directly in front of her. She saw in the mirror, however, that she was not entirely naked; there was a collar around her neck. She strained to see what the design was on it. Before she could make it out the monkey returned dragging some kind of a rod behind it. Her keen superheroine powers allowed her to notice that the monkey was wearing the same collar as she was, and she studied the design for some clues.
She had come here because of monkeys. Her friend, the dear old Giuseppe had come to her in tears. He said Marco had been stolen. Marco was not only his livelihood, being the organ grinder's monkey, but he was also his only companion, and it had been obvious to Clairiel that Giuseppe's heart was breaking. She could do nothing else but promise the old man she would get Marco back. Her network of friends had quickly led her to this elegant building down by the waterfront. The rumors had it that a man who lived here had been paying people for live monkeys, for who knew what unthinkable purposes. Clairiel had broken in easily enough, but the last thing she remembered was a strange feeling of unseen critters descending on her. Then she awoke here.
Clairiel spied the monkey looking at her, and she tried to communicate with it.
"Little monkey, help me. I need to get down and save you."
The monkey tilted his head, but did nothing more than continue looking at her.
"Please, mister monkey, do you understand? I am here to save you."
The monkey suddenly sat upright, which caused Clairiel to begin to hope. The monkey scampered to the side and brought back the rod-like device he had drug in earlier. To Clairiel's all-powerful eyes it looked like a backscratcher. A long thin pole, with a small, black hand at one end. Clairiel was puzzled, to say the least.
"Mr. Monkey, help me down."
The monkey moved the hand end of the backscratcher towards her, then moved it upwards slightly until the hand was on her nipple. Clairiel's left eyebrow raised, or rather lowered given her current position, as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The monkey began moving the backscratcher back and forth, causing the hand, which had a rubbery feel, to massage her nipple.
"This is not exactly what I had in mind," Clairiel said to no one in particular.
The monkey kept at it, though, increasing both the pressure and the movement. She wasn't sure if it was the blood that had rushed to her head or what, but the thing was affecting her. The monkey soon moved the little hand to her other nipple and gave it similar treatment. Clairiel closed her eyes, partly to try and focus on what she needed to do, partly because it seemed natural. As she envisioned the inversion boots in her mind, thinking of ways to escape them, she felt the little hand moving up from her breasts, slowly across her navel and on up to center of her superheroine powers.
"Stop that," she cried, to no avail.
The monkey was persistent and seemed to know exactly what it was doing.
"This is impossible," Clairiel thought to herself and she struggled against the restraints on her feet but only succeeded in thrusting her pussy towards the little rubber hand. Clairiel heard the door open and made out the form of another monkey, also wearing the uniquely designed collar. This one was dragging what looked to be a similar object, a thin pole with a hand, but the hand was much larger than the other one. In fact it was about the size of a human hand. The monkey disappeared behind her, and soon her thoughts returned to the monkey in front of her, the one with the little hand working on her pussy and clitoris.
She was writhing now, vainly struggling against the exquisite torture and the feelings working downward to her head. Clairiel was jolted by a sudden slap on her ass. Again. Somebody was slapping her ass ... or some thing. She remembered the second monkey and quickly looked in the mirror. Sure enough the second monkey had raised the larger hand and was spanking her ass. At this point Clairiel convinced herself she must be dreaming, hanging upside down, enduring the transgressions of these two rubber hands, with little chattering sounds coming from the monkeys as they went about their business like robots. Her eyes closed, she began reveling in the alternating sensations of the little hand rotating around her clitoris and the big hand making contact with her reddening ass. She heard the door open again.
"What will this monkey bring," she wickedly thought to herself.
"Are we having fun?"
The man's voice startled her. She opened her eyes and saw the man's legs right in front of her, his dark pants reaching his flawlessly polished Italian leather shoes.
"W-who are you," Clairiel stammered.