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!
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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.
