Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

A Piece of Art

by Denkira7

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© Copyright 2016 - Denkira7 - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/ff; kidnap; captives; bodymod; piercing; bond; rope; steelbar; susp; electro; torment; legbinder; objectify; intubate; display; punish; sen-dep; cons/nc; X

They were sisters. They had to be sisters. That's what she wanted. And she was used to getting exactly what she wanted. Money was never an issue. Her agents had been trucking them for a few months and when the time was right they made sure no one would search for them. The two sisters, 20 and 22 years old, were traveling to their aunt's house in the countryside. Their car was found in a nearby lake, crashed. Car accident, drowned, no bodies found, was the official verdict after some financial "encouragement".

Mrs Whitehall's mansion was unreachable to anyone within a mile radius. A few dozen guards and some pretty secure fencing made sure of that. Mrs Whitehall always had some peculiar tastes. The two girls would learn first hand about those.

When they were first introduced to her, they were each sitting strapped onto a wheelchair, in a small padded room, with two big blue ballgags in their mouths.They were naked under the hospital gowns that had been put on them while they were unconscious. They had been awake now for some hours, so they had time to take out their anger and eventual terror. They were red and teary-eyed when Mrs Whitehall walked in wearing a very expensive pant suit, indicating that this was just another thing she had to take care of. She was a very busy woman after all.

At first, the two sisters started moaning pitifully, hoping that this woman would rescue them from this ordeal. She wasn't surprised and put them in their place immediately. "Shut up, both of you! No one is coming to free you, so behave and save yourselves some pain and a lot of my time." The two girls froze in fear and kept their eyes fixed on the woman. She was shorter than both of them, but her imposing air was undeniable. She scanned the first girl on her right. Her long straight black hair fell on either sides of her shoulders. The size of her full breasts was visible even through the gown's cloth and her bare legs looked tight and toned. Her younger sister next to her looked just as beautiful but had her hair short, with some pink hightlights, giving her a more punk look. Mrs Whitehall noticed they both had a small spot just above their right eye, which she found very cute.

"They are good to go." She said a bit louder, talking to someone outside the room. A moment later two female nurses entered the room. The girls screamed into their gags and jerked with all their strength, as they were wheeled out of their padded cell, and towards the operating room.

* * *

It was done. The piece was hanging from the ceiling in a corner of her huge living room. The hardest part was the installation. Because of the fragility of the piece, the girls were heavily sedated, as to not harm themselves and ruin the ornament. The 41 year old woman giggled like a naughty shoolgirl when the girls finally woke up.

Her plan was to make the two sisters come close, as close as any two people can get.

Their naked bodies were dangling a few feet from the floor, pressed firmly against each other, face to face. They tried to move away from each other, but they realized that their tongues had been pierced together. The cruel piercing had been placed a little further down their tongues than a usual tongue piercing would be, and that forced them to tilt their heads a bit sideways, to relieve some of the tension. From an outsider's point of view, it looked like a beautiful, neverending kiss. The sounds they both produced were music to Mrs Whitehall's ears.

Their nipples had each been paired together with some carefully installed piercings, too. The one girl's right nipple was pierced with her sister's left nipple and vice versa. This meant that if either girl were to move, the other would feel it on her sensitive nipples. It would be very frustrating and stimulating. The sight of the girls' C cups pressing against each other also looked great, Mrs Whitehall thought.

Their hands had been neatly placed in silk purple bondage mittens and bound with purple rope in a reverse prayer position, their hands pointing upwards and their elbows bound together. Mrs Whitehall loved shibari and wanted at least a small detail of her piece to incorporate it. Around both of the girls' waists a silver belt was locked in place, securing their bottoms tightly close. Four hooks attached to it lead to four silver chains attached to the ceiling, that kept them suspended in the air. But the girls' whole weight was concentrated on a steel bar that run across the belt and between their legs. It was trimmed to an angle that painfully dug into their most private parts.

For the icing on the cake each sibling had her clit neatly tied with silk thread - purple color of course - that connected to her sister's clit. A cute little bow on each clit was a nice touch and drew the attention here. Now each movement down there would also be difficult to handle. Sadly for them, they would move a lot.The reason was the bar's additional features. Controlled by a remote controller, the bar could give the sisters a strong electric shock and it could also vibrate for up to 10 hours non-stop. It was really up to Mrs Whitehall to choose when and how she wanted to torment them.

Lastly, she didn't want their legs floating aimlessly around. So she had them tucked in a beautiful latex leg binder, also purple. The binder kept all four legs nicely pressed against each other, and that forced the toes to point straight downwards. It went up to, and around their pretty bums, highlighting them. The binder ended up on their sides on two closures of their belt.

It was a magnificent sight and Mrs Whitehall was very pleased with her creation. Sure, a project such as this took some necessary maintenance, but at the end of the day it was worth it. The two girls wouldn't eat anything again. A serum had been installed inside the ceiling and fed them via small tubes that were surgically inserted into their blood stream. Another tube stitched on their intestine took care of the liquid waste every three or four days, by sucking them right from their intestine into the also hidden disposal unit. For the preservation of the piece's appearance, these small tubes were silver colored and run through the chains. They ended through the silver belt and entered each girl's lower abdomen, so the camouflaging effect was great. A small chemical coating ensured that their teeth would not rot and fall off.

The piece became the Mrs's greatest and most stunning possesion. Their beautiful bodies glistened under the living room's lights, every hair having been permanently removed, except from their heads. It was a nightmare for them. They were appalled by being forced into this very compromising state with each other. Sure, they had seen each other naked sometimes, by that was natural. This was disgusting for them. Their tongues permanently connected, they exchanged as much saliva during their first week as a couple would in a lifetime. No matter how much they tried, the piercing held them together.

Their unintelligent moans were sometimes welcomed by their owner, others not. During the first two weeks they would well up and start pleading their mistress, whenever she would relax in the living room or just walk by them. A few zaps on their pussies later, they would give up and stay quiet, while Mrs Whitehall enjoyed her afternoon coffee. They would seek help from the cleaning lady or the butler, but they soon realized that they, too didn't even glance at them. They were just exhibits to be presented for the Mrs' and her friends' pleasure. The piece was the main attraction in Mrs Whitehall's dinner parties and her guests loved to admire them and play with the remote's functions.

The woman also wanted the two sisters to become more engaged with each other. The bar's vibrations would help on this. From day one, she always made sure that the vibration was turned on before she went to bed. The next day she would check to see if any of them had come. Sweating and moaning in pain, they were both in bad shape every morning, after 8 to 10 hours of teasing. But the bar was always dry. Dissapointed by the outcome, she'd give them thirty shocks on their cunts as punishment for their failure. And so, although the arrival of their mistress signalled the end of the vibrations, it was their most feared time of the day.

* * *

Until one day. It had been about three weeks since they were announced dead in the news. It was a Saturday and Mrs Whitehall had overslept, since she had nowhere to be in the morning. She walked down the stairs from her bedroom to the kitchen. She put on a pot of coffee. She always liked to make it herself, although she could very well not. She walked in the living room holding the hot cup in her hands.

A soft buzzing sound was all that was heard in the room. The two beautiful girls were only half-asleep, as most nights. The click of the remote stopped the vibration. The sudden change alerted the girls that their owner was up and they lightly flinched. She took a two-step ladder that was always on the nearest wall and put it next to her living ornament. She slipped her hand under the older sister's crotch. No signs of a climax. She snorted in dissapointment, and reached for the short-hair girl's side. What she felt put a wide smile on her face.

"You did it, you little brat! Finally!" Her hand was wet all over when she removed it from the young girl's crotch. If she wasn't already red from hours of stimulation, the punk-haired girl turned even redder from the embarassment. What was a few weeks ago unthinkable for her, was now true. Mrs Whitehall noticed that the girl's face was already wet with tears. "Oooh, don't cry sweety! I'm really proud of you, you know." Both girls uttered a muffled cry, looking at her totally defeated.

"Your sister though still needs some encouragement. So you'll get fifteen shocks this time." The two sisters whimpered at the words of their owner.

After that event, both girls tried more intensely to reach the goal that they had been given. Mrs Whitehall would often sit and watch them make out and rub their nipples and clits together, trying to orgasm. They didn't look like siblings anymore. Now familiar with each other's sexual needs, the girls often tried to climax together, since their rythms were quite similar. Their privates were very sensitive due to the bar's shocks and teases and also the thread that kept their clits erect at all times.

Luckily for their petite owner, she was there when it finally happened. The two girls were moaning louder and louder and drooling over their breasts. Even the chains that kept them suspended were slightly rattling as they desperately tried to get some momentum. Mrs watched in excitement as both girls orgasmed hard at the same time.She walked towards them, with a evil smirk on her face and as she slapped the older girl's ass she said: "Good, now let's raise the stakes a little bit..."

* * *

Three months have passed in Mrs Whitehall's mansion. The taste of her sister's lips is second nature now. Her tongue endlessly resting inside her sister's mouth, another tongue inside hers. It used to make her gag all the time, especially during the first days of their new life. A lot of ever-present things are mundane now. The painful pressure of the bar on her vagina. The inability to move her bound hands. The smell of foods she would never again taste. But this is just daily routine now.

But their captor had taken more of her freedom since that day. Now, she missed the noises coming from the kitchen or the chatter from the living room. A pair of earmuffs had taken any sound from her life. Most of all, she missed seeing her sister's face. Those same colored brown eyes, that same spot on her forehead. A pair of opake contact lenses, matching her bonds' color, took her sight as well.

But at least she's with her. However horrible fate awaits, they're in this together. She feels her breathing on her upper lip. The touch of her skin, from the tip of her toes to her chest. She feels the heat of her body, hugging her without stopping, as if to comfort her from this suffering.

At least she's there with her.

The last words they heard from their mistress before silence took over for good, still ring in their ears."Haha, you both look so cute with these contacts on. Now listen, cause when I put these on you'll be as good as deaf. The bar won't vibrate ever again. But you now have to cum for me five times each, every day. The camera I placed on the opposite wall will make sure you're not cheating. Oh, the penalty for failing will be a hundred shocks, so keep that in mind."

A hundred shocks seemed excessive, but Mrs Whitehall made sure the two sisters got every single one. When she was tired of administering them all herself, she'd put some servant to finish up for her. The pain was unbearable and the girls tried their best every day to avoid the torture. But without any external stimulation whatsover, either one or both of them often failed and they had to suffer the consequences.

What was the most agonizing part of their torment was the loss of time that came with their loss of senses. The only time reference the sisters had was the last time they got zapped. Their days were spend lost in their own kind of limbo, between orgasms, fading old memories, and anticipation for their daily zapping. Their owner rarelly touched them and so a simple caress on their bottom cheeks or their thighs drove them insane with fear at their imminent punishment. The older woman liked to watch them struggle terrified sometimes for minutes before starting shocking them. It was amazing to her what a simple touch meant for them.

* * *

And so, days passed, then months, eventually years. Mrs Whitehall was sitting comfortably in her arm chair, reading a novel, while her two decorative slaves were enganging in some sisterly love - a phrase that, however cheesy, she often liked to use. Their exposed asses were marked with a few red lines. They had been disciplined with the help of her wooden cane to be deadly silent whenever she instructed them. Although the earmuffs had never been removed, nor did the lenses, they caught on quickly enough after a few repetitions of this. Mistress needed her peace in order to read.

They had only orgasmed once that day, so, unaware of how long they would be forced to stay quiet, they were a bit nervous. It was only three hours since their last punishment but to them it might as well have been thirteen. The sensory deprivation forced them to always be on edge, in fear of more torture, and so they rarely stayed idle.

The woman put down her book and stared at her creation for some time. The two girls were as pretty as the day she was first introduced to them. "Even more now", she though to herself. She got up and walked to the wall were the small stair lied. She was now in eye-level with them. The two young women unaware of her, their glowing eyes staring blankly into space, their forced french kissing, producing small noises from time to time. "If only you could see how beautiful you are right now", she said to them, to herself, really. She reached her hands, one in each girl's direction, and gently petted them on the head.

The girls flinched, turning in the direction the touch came from. She could see they were scared of being punished, as they struggled reflexively against their bonds. "Sssssh, it's ok," she calmed them by caressing their cheeks with the outside of her palm. After a few seconds the two sisters realized they were not going to be harmed and calmed down. They turned their faces, as much as they could, towards the hands that touched them, rubbing against them, enjoying the attention.

The same person who had imprisoned them and reduced them to decorative objects, now was treating them kindly. The worst part was, that they didn't care that the kindness came from her. Maybe, it only made sense that it was her, their mistress, the one who had taken everything from them and could take even more at a moment's notice. Mrs Whitehall smiled, got off the stair and returned to reading her book.


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