Emily at the Wall

by Cropsncuffs

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© Copyright 2008 - Cropsncuffs - Used by permission

Storycodes: FM/f+; D/s; bond; enclose; anal; reluct/nc; X

My name is Maxine. Or I think it is. Or rather was. It’s been so long since anyone called me by my name it can be hard to remember. Now they call me left number four. Sometimes ‘that dark haired bitch’, or with really common customers, ‘that one there’.

Once I had lovely dark hair, all styled in the latest fashions, but that was a long time ago. It feels like months since I was allowed a haircut, and if I could stand upright it would hang past my arse. Stand upright ? A chance would be a fine thing. Let me tell, if you think leather harnesses, rope and chain are the ultimate form of bondage, you should try bricks and mortar. Yes, that’s right, bricks and mortar.

I raise my eyes from the floor and take in the bizarre panorama that greats them every morning. It’s a corridor, a plain white corridor sporting the strangest ornamentation you can imagine. Every ten feet or so the walls appear to be decorated with a woman’s head. A living woman’s head. And either side of those heads are it’s matching hands. Like some form of medieval pillory, only this one is made up of solid bricks and mortar. That’s right, we have all been cemented right in.

Sometime the scenery never changes for an eternity (Well, it feels like an eternity of you are one of those ornaments), and sometimes you awake to see a new face staring back from across the floor. And today is one of those days.

Up until yesterday I was facing a girl with a mass of curly red hair and a face covered in wild freckles. I think her name was Toni, but just like me it was hard for her to remember as nearly everyone knew her are right four. This morning there is a new face opposite me. A blonde with a neat haircut that will not last long. After a couple of weeks the styling will grow out and it will hang like a curtain towards the floor. Just like mine.

I’m bent over at the shoulders, and my hair falls to where my knees should be. It keeps me from looking left and right very much, but some callers seem to find it irresistibly attractive. Some women like to stroke it, while others use it like reins to pull my face and lips up to theirs. And if the treatment being meted out to me from behind the wall makes me wail or cry out some callers like to wad a hank of my hair and thrust it into my mouth to keep me quiet. And without the use of your hands, there it stays until some kind soul pulls it out again. Very unpleasant.

I watch this new girl carefully. She is still asleep right now but soon the drugs will start to wear off and when she wakes up she will need a calm voice to talk to. I have seen some newcomers go quite mad as they try to make sense of their unexpected situation.

As I watched her eyes opened and she started to glance about. Desperately trying to find some rhyme or reason in her imposed immobility.

“Hi there” I said “Welcome to hell”

Her head snapped back as far as it could until she could see me across the way. Her mouth opened wide as she took in my apparently disembodied head mounted on the wall, and my widespread hands, then she swivelled her head until she could see her own hands. For a long moment she twisted them as if trying to convince herself that they were not hers. To disprove the evidence of her own eyes and body. I watched as she tried to pull back out of her solid prison, then she started to scream. Her head swung wildly back and forth, her hands windmilling in their utterly inescapable bondage. And she screamed louder and louder until I heard a new sound. The steady tapping of Mistresses high heels, and suddenly she was there, emerging from behind that curtain of hair.

“What’s all this noise Emily ?” she asked, “After all this is what you wished for!”

“No it isn’t,” howled Emily, “When I asked for tight bondage this isn’t what I meant at all. I wanted ropes and chains and cages. Not this...”

“Then you should have been more specific,” Mistress snapped, “I could have offered you all those things,” she paused, “And in time I probably will. But for now it is your lot to remain in my corridor of delights.”

Emily had tears running down her face as Mistress paced slowly before us, the only sound Emily’s sobs over the background creaking of Mistress’s high leather boots and wickedly tight corset. Then suddenly Emily’s head snapped up straight and she was looking me in the eye.

“Ah, I see you have discovered the secret of the wall,” Mistress said, “That every wall has 2 sides!”

Oh, I knew what Emily was discovering alright. At any moment and quite without warning a finger might plunge into any one of your available openings, or roughly tweak a dangling nipple, or worse. More than once the first I had known of anyone behind the wall was a pair of hands taking a firm grasp on my hips and a manhood wildly thrusting into my once virgin arsehole. Those virgin days didn’t last long I can tell you. And on a good day every head on the wall was twisting and wailing in pain or pleasure the whole length of the corridor, and then men and women walking past flushed with passion often felt moved to caress a writhing cheek, wipe away one of our tears, or maybe force a kiss on us as we writhed helplessly.

“While your faces entertain one set of our clientele,” mistress said, “Your bodies entertain another. We offer a whole range of perversions here dear Emily. We will dress your body as we see fit, or at the requests of our clients. Some consider it the ultimate fantasy to take their pleasure of a fantasy maid, while others desire their female bodies bare and oiled. You will serve them all, and if you are good you might earn the reward of being removed from the wall. But beware what you wish for, as some parts of our little complex offer you a far harder life than the wall.”

A stream of cursing issued from down to my right, and I knew that Jaccqui was awake.

“Ah yes,” said Mistress , “And don’t get the idea that you will get free if you fail to entertain my clients. Jaccqui thought that, and look what happened to her!”

Jaccqui’s head was way lower down on the wall than ours, and all I knew of her face was an long bob of for once carefully styled hair.

“She was in the zoo, and thought to strike out and scratch at the customers, so we bought her to the wall. And when she still kicked out she woke one day to find that was had made a few ‘modifications’ to her imprisonment!”

There was still swearing pouring form the girl’s invisible mouth.

“We bricked her in bent over at the waist. Such a delightful refinement of the punishment you must agree.”

More swearing led me to believe that Jaccqui did not agree.

“And such a lovely looking girl as well. Nice blue eyes and quite splendid legs, yet like so many she hid then under trousers and took a dislike to all men. So now we keep her permanently in wicked, strappy high heels she cannot kick off, beautiful black stockings and a teeny tiny little flared skirt. You’re quite a favourite with the gentlemen, aren’t you Jaccqui ?” Mistress asked, tousling Jaccqui’s hair as she spoke.

Jaccqui gave mistress a very succinct view of what she thought of her, then yowled, her head twisting back and forth, and for the first time I caught sight of a pretty face with blue eyes and high cheekbones.

“Ah, I see Sir George has arrived!” said Mistress, laughing gently, “And he is such a big boy, isn’t he Jaccqui ? And he does so love your lovely legs my dear. So you be good to him, and maybe you will get a treat tonight”

Then Jaccqui squealed, and Mistress threw back her head, her laugher rolling the length of the corridor.

“Ah, I see Sir. George is seeking a rather tighter entrance today then. Now won’t that be nice for you dear ?”

As she turned away I felt a hand cupping one of my buttocks, then another joined it, spreading them softly and I knew what I was in for. I looked up to see Emily in tears as unseen hands molested her, and quickly she started to moan as someone unseen started to take their pleasure of her. And soon the whole corridor was crying out. Another day at the wall had began.