By S. Sneakly, Copyright 1996

*Chapter Seven*

Pasteurized, Processed Police Peril

 Suddenly, Qir was pitched to the side. Kat’s eyes opened just in time to see the Dairy Queen’s heel follow through.  Crumpled on the ground next to her was her would be assassin, still clutching her dagger. 

In one fluid motion, Qir rolled to her feet.  The Dairy Queen still had the initiative and used it to her advantage.  Her whip long shot out like a flame and wrapped around Qir’s wrist.

The little hand feinted down and forward in one fluid movement.  As the assassin brought her hand up, the blade sliced the end of the whip.   A stream of unintelligible obscenities poured from her mouth.

“Look, psycho-cunt,” The Dairy Queen shot back.  “If you want some fuck toys to play with, go ask your boss.  It’s not like he doesn’t have enough of it hanging around.”

“Those two idiots working for me already screwed up my first chance at earning a big payoff, I need this lil’ heifer to rustle up Miss Young-Jugs.”  Olga’s booted toe nudged Kat in the ribs.  “You better saddle up and get back to your boss.”

Qir held her knife; ready to flick the blade at Olga.  Her furrowed brow made it clear that she wanted to send the Dairy Queen to Hell even if she would have to go there herself.   She let out a low, evil hiss and slowly put the knife away. 

 Who ever her boss is, she must be more scared of him than she is of the Dairy Queen, Kat noted.   She squirmed and groaned into her gag.  The sadistic little woman had worked Kat up and now she was horny as hell.  A tight crotch rope would have given her some relief, one with a big knot in just the right place and she could have satisfied herself. 

Kat shook her head.  She needed to clear her mind.  Olga’s drugs and torture were warping her perceptions.  Getting off this cross and escaping had to be her first objective. Orgasms she could worry about later.

            Watching her prey rock back and forth at the center of the wooded X, the tattered remains of her pleated skirt and white blouse draped across her body, Olga was happy to be rid of Qir.  Peaches and Cream would probably not return for hours.  The Interpol agent would probably still be alive, but the blush would be off the rose by then. 

            Danger Babe would either take the bait or Olga would enjoy Officer Dickworthy’s slow and theatrical demise.

            Using a remote control, Olga lowered a cable and hook from a ceiling crane. She pulled the cable to the X-frame where Kat was pinned.  After hooking the frame to the cable she raised it until the heroine was erect, the bottom of the frame just touching the floor.

“Officer, are you aware of what needs to be done to milk before it can be sold in a store?”  She moved over to Kat and placed her hand on the girl’s thigh.  She felt the muscles tense.  She enjoyed the moment of control.  Kat was to tired to respond. 

            “It needs to be heated to kill all the natural fauna that might make you sick.”  Her hand traced up the smooth brown skin to the crotch of her victims panties.  She could feel goose bumps forming along the girl’s shapely leg.  “The milk also needs to be mixed to prevent the cream from separating.”

            She pulled Kat’s gag down, as if to kiss her.  The round butt of the whip handle traced vulnerable skin of her inner thighs.  Olga pushed her face thick red lips against Kat’s mouth, forcing her tongue in, exploring young woman’s gasping mouth.  The whip handle pressed hard against the folds of the girl’s labia.  The rough braids of leather were quickly drenched as handle was slowly forcing its way into the parting folds.  Kat shuddered with excitement as the weapon pushed her to climax.  As it penetrated deeper and deeper again and again, roughly tearing at from within, Kat gasped for air between orgasms.  As she did so, the Dairy Queen pushed a balled up piece of cloth into her mouth.  Before she could spit it out, the gag was back in place and cinched tight between her teeth. 

            “That’s right lover, I’m going to pasteurize and homogenize your sweet little body.”  The handle of was slowly pulled from Kat’s swelled and excited labia. The Dairy Queen pulled away from her lover.  Kat could hear the tremble of excitement in Olga’s voice.  The moist end of the whip, still clutched in her hand was vibrating with emotion.   Olga was near climax herself.  The exhilaration of the kill was on her.  She was certain that this time was no play act or game.  This time she was going to snuff the pretty little oriental troublemaker.  Officer Kat Dickworthy was now too big a liability to have around.  Joy of torture was outweighed by the trouble that could be created if she were ever to escape with the knowledge that she had undoubtedly learned from her meeting with Danger Babe.

She picked up a hose from the floor and trained it on Kat.  A jet of water shot out and soaked the spread eagle girl from head to toe.  A stream of dirt dribbled down her body and her clothes clung to her body.  The dark flesh of her areola and nipples swelled against the now sheer fabric.  The heavy cross danced in the jet of water.

            Satisfied that the girl was rinsed clean, Olga pulled the remote control from her pocket raised Kat toward the ceiling.  The cross followed a track-way along the ceiling into an unlit corner of the building.  As she approached a set of overhead lights blinked on. 

            Next to her were two white storage vessels; white layers denoted the different fraction of separated milk.  One was placed almost to the rafters and the second was midway to the floor.  They had been connected by a series of glass tubes through which milk would be able to drain from one to another. 

            Kat’s eyes followed the path of glass pipes from one tank to another.  A set of empty pipes exited the lower tank, curving down a third, open jar directly below her.

            As if on cue, the Dairy Queen started lowering Kat down into the open tank.  It was just wide enough for the X-frame to slide in.  As Kat jerked and pulled at her bondage, the cross began to sway slightly.

            “Easy does it Lover, this will be a tight fit.”  Olga picked up a rifle from a table along the back wall.  She used the barrel of the gun to guide the end of the cross into the tank.  Within moments Kat was trapped inside. 

            Olga shouldered the gun and used the crane to lower the domed lid onto her.  Four steel clamps snapped into place sealing the tank from the outside. 

            Kat was entirely cut off from the outside.  She puffed heavily into the gag, her breathing echoed in the glass tomb and the shifting of her writhing body on the makeshift cross was loud in her ears.  She could see the Dairy Queen moving about the barn, but the sound had been turned off.

            Kat studied her predicament.  The glass tank was just barely able to hold the spread eagle cross.  In addition to the four locking clamps, the lid was connected to the bottom of the milk tank above by a clear tube.   A black bell shaped was fitted through the glass to the right of the tube.  A black o-ring sealed the lid on to the tank.  A pair of telescoping arms was mounted in the curved bottom of the tank, one immediately in front of the other. 

            She tried to figure out what the Dairy Queen intended for her, but she was still too groggy from the knock out gas.  Suddenly, a hissing sound filled her ears.  Looking up, she saw white milk rushing down the tube from the second tank towards her own.  Her ears popped as the thin white liquid sprayed down through the connector.  The connector was designed to deflect the milk down the sided of the vessel and allow it to mix gently with the milk at the bottom of the tank.  Cold milk quickly pooled in the round glass floor and was quickly rising towards Kat’s feet.  A chilly white mist sprayed across Kat’s brown skin and collected in small rivulets, tracing down her body.  Her damp clothes clung more tightly to her body. 

            Within a few seconds the chilly liquid was washing over the tops of her high-heeled pumps that she had found back at the ice cream factory.  The rapid cooling sent a shiver through her body.  Her dark nipples pressed against the clingy white blouse and pushed out.

            Kat’s head rolled back while she grunted futilely into her gag.  The frigid milk continued to rain down from above.  Her gag was soaked and swollen with milk and her hair matted to her body as the milk sprayed over her.  Less than a minute into the torrent the chilled liquid had risen to her inner thighs. 

Milk continued to pour down the sides of the tank, but thankfully stopped rising.  Kat tugged at her wrist and ankle restraints.  Although the Dairy Queen and her Asian assistant, Qir, had worked quickly, the ropes felt like irons clamping her to the wooden cross.  Her heart pounded.  She looked down at the roiling mass of white liquid.  It was hovering just a few inches below her widely spread legs.  Kat knew with a press of a button the Dairy Queen could drown her in a white flood. 

Even so, the only thing that she wanted was to get her hand free to touch herself.  Her days of captivity in the hands of the Dairy Queen and her sadistic helpers had taken their toll on the girl.  The sexually stimulating effect of knockout gas mixed with the intense danger of her predicament created a bizarrely erotic situation for Kat. 

Peering through the milk and glass, Kat could see little.  The Dairy Queen had disappeared from view.  The vast empty barn was a blur.  Kat chewed into the gag, the sweet taste of milk filled her mouth.  Alone she tried to figure out what had been planned for her and this new girl, Danger Babe, or Penelope Young-Jugs or who ever she was.  

            From what Penelope had told her back in the factory, Kat was of no intrinsic value the Dairy Queen.  During her entire captivity, interrogation had been simply an excuse for Olga to torment and toy with the young woman.  But now, certainly, she was a liability.  Penelope had told her enough information about CrimeNet in Buzzsaw to warrant a quick elimination. 

            Her mind fixed on the beautiful blond that had saved her from the sharp blades that would have certainly sliced her as she struggled, bound between the two sloping metal bars in the basement of the ice cream factory or from the sharp needles that were at end of  the fiendish funnels that were clamped over her breasts, slowly sucking her nipples towards the poisonous pricks.  Remembering that deadly trap and feeling the Dairy Queen’s tight bonds holding her body fast yet again sent Kat into shivering orgasm.  Her head rolled back, eyes closed, muscles ridged in her bondage.

            Her shallow rapid breaths shot through the milk soaked gag.  She bit hard at it wondering how long the sensation might last.  Just as she started to let go of feeling, a voice whispered from the lid of the tank.

            “I see you have discovered one of the main side effects my interrogation methods.  It’s called operant conditioning.   The gas that I created from cattle viper can make almost any sensation an erotic one.  After being entertained by so many of my toys, you are now physically conditioned to associate deadly peril with sexual stimulation.  The more helpless you become the more intense the sexual response will be.  If I continued our little games, I think you would eventually be able to reach orgasm without the help of my gas.  I like to call what you just experienced a ‘peril-gasm.’  Some people, like your girl friend, Miss Young-Jugs experience them naturally.  You, on the other hand, needed a little help.”

            “I’d enjoy taking our little experiment to the next level, Lover.  But, I’m afraid that your usefulness to me is almost up.  When the delectable Danger Babe tries to come to your rescue, or at least I hope she will, your end will come within few very entertaining minutes.”

            “If, for some reason she decides not to come, your demise will be much slower. Yet, I assure you, no less entertaining. 

“Pasteurization, you might recall is the heating of milk to kill any dangerous contaminants that might be suspended in it.”  Olga slid her fingers over the moist handle of the whip.  Smiling, she added, “Sadly, my dear, that includes you.”  She pressed the damp leather of the whip to her lips, enjoying the taste of victim’s fluids. 

“As the milk circulates through homogenizer, you trapped in the second of three. It will be slowly heated from a chilly forty degrees to potentially fatal one hundred forty.  I’m not sure that alone will kill you, but there are other surprises that will finish the job, eventually…”

With a wicked grin, the Dairy Queen watched as the next phase of her trap activated. Kat at first felt only a hum coming through the milk around her legs.  In the turmoil swirling milk in the chamber, it was barely perceptible.

Within seconds one a small mast had extended above the roiling surface of the milk.  It was barely larger than a car antenna and stopped barely an inch above the surface. 

Kat looked at it.  Despite its small, innocuous appearance, Kat pulled and bucked at the ropes stretching her tightly to the cross.  In the Dairy Queen’s perverse games, small could be just could mean painfully deadly.   Kat looked down at her spread legs, then at the thick wire only few inches from the her pussy, the thin remains of her black panties her only protection.

Kat closed her eyes, her mind raced.  She imagined the sting of wire snapping across the soft flesh of her pussy.  She squirmed uncomfortably, trying to imagine how this extension was going to be used against her.  She tried hopelessly to close her knees and protect her exposed sex.  Her body quivered.  She bit down into the gag, her head rolled back, her dark wet hair slid down her breast, stroking her rigid nipple. Her breath became rapid and shallow. She squirmed amid the tight ropes.  She squealed into her wet gag as she came a second time.  Her muscles flexed and she shuddered and gasped, another of the Dairy Queen’s “peril-gasms” washed over her.   

            Olga’s voice crackled through the speaker,  “I suppose that you are trying to imagine what is coming.  You’ve heard of the Chinese water torture, slow drips tapping away at the victim’s head.  Eventually, the victim goes insane and the pressure causes the skull to collapse.” 

            Kat could hear the now familiar quaver in the Dairy Queens voice as she explained the intricacies of latest mechanism of torture and murder.  This time her arousal was even more pronounced, probably because she had no intention of intervening in the deadly process. 

            “I’ve always wondered what would happen if that same principle was applied to more ‘delicate’ tissue.  I’ve rewired parts of this homogenizer to help me find out.  The little mast that just appeared between your pretty legs was originally designed to control the movement of liquids in the microenvironments of the chamber.  It has a fiber-optic camera on the tip to mounted next to the precision water jet.”

            The Dairy Queen’s voice quavered.  “How powerful is it?  Allow me a demonstration.”  A sudden burst of liquid from the end of the mast struck the fabric of her skirt and sliced it from bottom to top.  Kat recoiled in surprise and pain, the remains of her tartan skirt be slashed from waste and dropping into the swirl pool of milk, leaving only her black panties behind.

“The jet was modified from a masonry cutting jet.  If it becomes necessary, you could be sliced in two in less than a minute.  It’s not only powerful but precise, too.”   Two quick darts of liquid shot out severing the straps that held the panties in place.  The thin, damp fabric slid down into the turmoil of white. 

Kat looked down.  She could see light traces on her skin created by razor sharp jets of liquid. “It uses an optical tracker to keep follow the motion of your body.  You can squirm all you want and it will always be able to find your sweet spot.”

“Unfortunately for you, cutting you neatly in half is not my intention . . .”  The Dairy Queen’s voice was regaining some of its steel. 

Kat felt a gentle tap against her labia. Then another, she looked down and saw droplets of milk being shot from the tip of the mast.  She felt herself becoming more excited as it became clear what the Dairy Queen meant by “sweat spot’.  The tapping droplets of milk sent a shiver through Kat’s loins.

“It must feel nice against your poor sweet young skin.  I imagine the cattle viper venom has you wonderfully sensitized.  In a few minutes that gentle pitter-patter against your pussy will drive you into a cycle of continuous orgasm.  But as the seconds tick into minutes and the minutes into hours, the gentle touch will become a deliciously diabolic pounding.  Your orgasms will sap your energy away into a sexually agony.” 

            Olga looked down from her perch in the building’s rafters.  She pushed her fingers down the between her legs.  Despite the milk swirling down the chamber walls, Olga had a clear view of her captive’s gyrating body.  She long nails scraped roughly her sex.  The excitement of watching the girls progression from arousal to torment made her wet with lust.  She wished desperately that she locked in the tank with her victim, to look into her eyes, touch her quivering skin, drink in the sexual energy and manhandle her helpless form. 

Danger Babe would eventually be forced to walk into the trap, trying to save her new friend. Olga imagined the joy watching the last minutes of officer Dickworthy while brutalizing the blond heroine.  She let two of her fingers slide deep into her moist sex. She needed to use her free hand to stabilize her perch in the rafters as felt the rush to orgasm. 

 By S. Sneakly

Copyright 1996 by author

Next: The Better Butter Bondage