The Perils of Judge Julia (5 page)

There was a time when another noise gushed into the chamber. And it did 'gush' because it was at the exact time that the bondage rig and been fine tuned to its limit, or to Mandy's limit. When her legs were as wide as they would go, when her bound arms and wrists had been hoisted as high as they would go; it was at that exact time that Mandy lost control and therefor the contents of her bladder. It was a gush, a sudden gush that immediately drowned out that distant sound, that distant sound of dripping. The hot steaming urine dripping and finding its own level, draining through the abattoir style drain hole directly underneath Mandy, right between her wide open legs. This very drain placement leading to the conclusion that similar acts of betrayal by victim's bodies in this place was a regular occurrence. Thinking about it, that distant dripping sound, the one that couldn't initially be explained, could well have been emanating from that hole in the otherwise thick, sealed floor. Mandy gushing, emptying her bladder and her Torturess, because that's basically what she was, standing back, leaning against one of the steel walls, a prime good view, nodding her head slowly, as though confirming to herself that with that happening, with that event, Mandy losing her bladder contents, was a final and very real realisation that she was in deep deep crap. Crap that she wouldn't be able to climb out of. At least not under her own steam.

“Mmmmmmmmmnnnngngngnngngngnngnngngnnnnn hhhhhhghghhghgh ghhhghghghghhhhhhh.”

Mandy hadn't even adapted her mind or body to what had been done to it so far when a new explosion of sensations wracked through her body. She was sinking into disorientation and a mind melt but that did not mask any way her knowledge that her sexuality was being invaded again. First, a finger sliding with ease into her still urine dripping sex. Parting the lips and then dipping in deep. She could feel the fingers inside her, curling and then opening and then scissoring inside her. It was like the Torturess was deliberately working her flesh, deliberately stimulating it so that she would produce more and more of her most intimate juices. Using that as a humiliation yes, but using it also, preparing the flesh for what was to come. That explosion of sensations coming as 'something' was slid inside her. What was actually being slid inside her was a vibrating egg. At first glance this thing was egg shaped but on closer inspection one would see that it had been micro-designed and manufactured especially for purpose. The fingers inside Mandy and then her sex being held open with those finger, the egg sliding up inside her easily. Her sex almost 'sucking' the egg up inside and closing behind it. Indeed the slippery, squelching noise produced would lead to that conclusion. That the Torturess had held the egg in an open palm and offered to the hairless smooth, pouting sex of the young girl. And that creature, that sex of the girl had taken the bait, pouted its lips and sucked it up inside itself. Once inside her, that egg moving, sliding around, searching, hunting for its prime location, the ideal location where it could settle and hum away to its heart content. And that is what it did. It slid up, turned, and twisted and then settled, right up behind the pubis, pressing into Mandy's G spot. Just right there. Pressing in and humming against it. The effect immediate and profound. For the first time, a real and intense pleasure FORCED onto the young girl. A more humiliating, demeaning thing not really possible than having intense sexual pleasure forced on oneself at such a time of distress and despair. Sexuality and sexual pleasure was deeply personal, something that should only be attained and controlled by the individual it was affecting. This was way beyond that, the control taken away, and as the egg turned and settled against her G spot, so that noise filled Mandy's mind. It didn't fill the chamber, just her mind. As that egg turned and settled so Mandy's sex lips closed behind it, keeping it there. The pleasure it was producing ensuring that the young girl gripped onto and held it just there. The design of the egg object doing its bit.

“Mmmmmmmmmnnnngngnngngngngnngngngng hhhhhhhhnngngnngngnngngngnn hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

That enforced, total pleasure was a constant. So was the slow drip, drip drip of Mandy's juices. That screaming moaning groaning in her own mind was a constant to. Then the feeling of finger working around her sexuality again. Fingers and thumbs lightly pinching the swollen, slippery labia. Pinching them closed together, the pads of finger and thumb pressing an then sliding up and down the length of the outer labia. The sensation of those fingers and thumbs feeding and encouraging the outrageous pleasure the egg was feeding her from inside. Then another sensation – her labia's being peeled apart and held like that. In her imagination her labia being held open with scissored fingers. And another sensation, the inner folds of flesh, the delicate pink folds of inner labia being looked for and found just before a mind numbing sensation of these inner lips being gripped by some sort of clamp. Long clamps, one to each of the inner labia. Strong spring clamp that sought and located the entire flesh of the inner labia and pinched it tight to the base. Flat edged clamps, not tooth wielding clamps, but clamps designed to pinch the maximum amount of that oh-so-sensitive flesh and then distort it with its strength. Mandy's eyes bulging and pressing against the latex lenses. Knowing where that intense pinching pain was coming from and yet unable because of the bondage, to look down between her own legs to see it. The pinching, slowly numbing pain and the inner buzz from the G spot egg working in unison to great a yin and yang, pain and pleasure explosion. And then barely enough time for her to adapt to those new sensations when yet another aspect was introduced. Another explosion inside her melting mind as weights were attached to the labia clamps. Mandy was in no position, or no mind to say how heavy the clamps were. They felt very heavy. Only the uniformed Torturess would know that these weights, bullet shaped weights on the ends of micro-thin wire and hanging between wide open legs, heavy enough to pull the inner lips down from between her outer labia creating a disturbing vision of stretched pink inner flesh, contrasting with the juice dripping darker puffed flesh of her outer labia. Mandy's mind melting more as she tried, at least in her head to adapt to what was happening to her. From time to time, the gag closing down her breathing a little as she tried, through no fault of her own, to get more air than she was entitled to. She accepted in her own mind that that was her fault and she had to control it. Had to control it. Once she had got the message, regulating her breathing again so that the airway would re-open for her. As she settled, and as she got into a rhythm of breathing and absorbing the pain and pleasure she was feeling, so her clitoris received the distant inner buzz from the egg located inside her, just behind it. The clitoris filling and then 'peeling' out of its hood as it erected, and filled and began to throb slowly, steadily.

The Torturess watched the weights slowly swing, and turn to a standstill and she looked on, clenched her thighs as she produced another snake like dildo object that would soon be embedded in Mandy's back door. The inflation used to stretch the inner flesh of Mandy, and the engorged bell end of it, finding its way in deep and up against the young girls colon. In addition the middle aged uniformed woman produced a lethal looking, pencil thin whip style crop. Braided leather bound round a wire core and designed to cause maximum pain, with the least effort. This would be used to the best and most excrutiating effect on Mandy's breasts.Over the next twenty four hours Mandy would be slowly and systematically broken down. Bit by bit she would have her layers peeled away and equally as slowly she would be deconstructed. The Torturess smiled a wide smile as a squirt, more than a gush of thick slippery juice from Mandy's distended sex flesh, just beneath the clitoris signalled the first, of many, intense, enforced orgasms. Mind in full melt mode. Now Mandy's mind was melting proper.

24 Hours Later

Mandy was belly down on the cold steel floor of the chamber and she was licking the Torturess's boots. Not limp, weak licks but full bodied flat tongue, pure licks which cleaned and then polished the leather. The reason she was cleaning the leather; just before she had got belly down and crawled to the boots, she had 'humped' them. First one, then the other. She had humped, or ridden each boot until she had orgasmed and ejaculated her own produce over them. She had slid onto each boot working the leathered toes between her swollen distended labia and she had ridden them, still being worn by the Torturess. Then she had cleaned them. She had almost sickeningly, lovingly licked and cleaned her own mess off them. Mandy hadn't been told to do either. She hadn't been 'told' to hump the boots, or she hadn't been 'told' then to clean them. It was simply something that she knew was expected and she had been directed by the woman, just with her eyes. It was something she just 'knew' after being broken by this woman. And she was broken. Oh yes she was broken but as well, deep deep down inside there was a little bit of herself, just a little teeny bit that told her to go into 'survival mode'. Just a little bit of something left of herself to tell her to get through this next twelve weeks. Get through them whatever it took, do whatever it took, take whatever she had to take... and then get out and track down Judge Julia. That thought, sometimes a very vivid thought in a melted mind, was the one that kept her going.

TWO – JUDGE JULIA

13 Weeks Later.

“I simply MUST tell you darling, I do like the way you seem to be clearing the City streets of the low-life single handedly. You just deserve the biggest of round of applauses for that it must be said.”

Her name was Martha and she was speaking to Julia but at the same time intending that her words be heard and absorbed by the entire dinner party. And duly, there was a ripple of applause with the odd “here here” thrown in there for good measure. It was a posh do and as such, everyone in attendance was posh; had posh accents and dressed posh and acted posh. Posh oozed from the decorative expensive posh velvet wallpaper that adorned the walls. Men in black tie, women in all their finery. The private fine dining room at one of London's most exclusive Hotels stank of cigar smoke and indeed a cloud of the stuff hung just below the high ornate ceiling covering the whole of the room. The huge, expensive dining table seated thirty with ease, and the full compliment was in attendance. Various high profile people, from members of parliament, through influential City business type, a couple of Lords and Ladies splattered in there and even the odd, high ranking police officer or two. It would certainly be 'the' room to hold hostage if such an opportunity presented itself to one of that persuasion. The men were handsome, wealthy and the women were 'grande'. Most were middle aged or beyond, and some fell into the mutton dressed as lamb category except they had been garnished with expensive clothes and even more expensive perfumery. And then there were the exceptions to the rule. Although in this case, on this particular evening, Julia was the only exception to the rule in that she was, out of her professional attire, a stunning statuesque woman of something approaching amazonian proportions. At thirty seven years old she was at the peak of her sexual prowess and that kind of emanated from her in a glow that is hard to describe, and in a feminine confidence that simply saw heads turn the moment she walked into a room. Julia, even during her day job as a Crown Court Judge at the top of her profession, was immaculate. She didn't just exude perfection to those looking form the outside. She did that with ease, and anyone's eyes that happened to pour over her would be reluctant to leave her. She indeed was perfection on stunning shapely legs. It was the same routine when she got ready for work as when she got ready for one of these functions. She would begin naked and simply apply more layers of perfection on top. When men, and some women looked at her in 'that' way, whatever was going through their minds about the fragrant redhead was ultimately true. And when younger people saw her, she undoubtedly had the Mrs Robinson effect that older women usually have on young boys. She was a fantasy brought to life – one of those creatures the true life rarely created. But she was like one of the exaggerated fetish drawings brought to life. An impossible Amazonian with an impossible figure, impossible legs, impossible breasts. Even more impossible lips and with an impossibly seductive husky drawl that poured from between them should that drawing be turned in a little movie clip. She spoke softly and yet she also spoke sternly. Tiny little nuances, little minute differences in tone and pitch which negated the need for her to raise her voice, or make wild hand gestures in order to get her point across. She brought such perfection into the Court also. As usual when a Judge comes in everyone stands. But in Judge Julia's case they didn't simply stand, the did that but they did it with awe and something approaching an awestruck silence simply washed through the room, all eyes on the great woman herself. In most cases, it would be easy to say that the Judge was simply playing the part, acting to expectations. But in Julia's case she was simply, naturally doing what she did.

“Oh, for goodness sakes Martha, I'm not ridding the streets of anything. I am simply using the law, and the justice system to help the 'creatures'.”

One would have to do a second take, to ask oneself if Julia had really emphasised the creature word or not. She had but it was barely detectable and almost lost in the slight ripple of laughter and the even less pronounced ripple of agreement of what she was saying and the words she used. She shifted on her high backed chair and recrossed her legs under the table. The sound of nylon rasping on nylon was almost electric as she bounced her stiletto'd foot slightly.

“Mmmmm yes but darling, those 'creatures' definitely need to be caged and taken out of society. And you it must be said are doing that with vigour, and authority.”

Martha most definitely did emphasise the creature word, but it was like she was latching on to the class and style of Judge Julia. Julia didn't need to big herself up when she had friends and acquaintances of the sort who were in the room. There was laughter – creatures in cages, indeed. Julia sipped from a glass of sweet white wine that had been served with desert. She should have been lapping up the praise and adoration. But she wasn't like that. It is actually hard to say she was like. A woman so comfortable with herself and what she did in life, a woman so perfect in every single way that she didn't really need to be told. Or she didn't need to have it pointed out by individuals or underlined by any others of her peers. It was only when she broke with tradition, when she did the unexpected, and when she said something unexpected, which wasn't very often, that people did those second takes, let the words or deed sink in and then react.

“Oh Martha you ARE really too kind. You KNOW that I only do it because I get some weird fetish kink out of it. Sending these people down. Taking things from them, their liberty, their lives. I like that. It turns me on.”

Were those words and the way they were said an act or was that really how she felt. It was this sort of unexpected that people never really knew how to take. It was certainly a way or a reason to hastily change the subject. Except that Martha wouldn't let that happen.

“Mmmmmm yes darling, I thought that. I thought there was something behind it. Take that one creature you sent down a few months ago. That prostitute..... uhhhhhhhh......”

Martha seemed to be trying to remember a name, or something more specific with which to guide the woman who must have imprisoned hundreds of people since she came to the silk at the incredibly young age of twenty nine. Judge Julia cut her off.

“They're all vile creatures Martha dear. But I do so like the imploring eyes as they are taken down.”

Martha had been referring to the case of Mandy. Julia wouldn't be able to, for the life of her remember her. Not unless her mind was jogged that was. If there was some event, some happening that would jog her memory to specific offenders... then she would remember with photographic clarity every single aspect of the case.

Later that evening.

The abduction of Judge Julia was so meticulous in its planning and execution that the

attractive thirty seven year old had been hooded and immobilised before she had the slightest inclination that something was wrong. Before even her brain had computed what was happening, the pull cord was being drawn around her attractive, perfect neck.

Julia had been to the posh dinner party and was dressed accordingly, stylishly in a cocktail gown affair that flattered her perfection even more, if that was possible. She had just parked her Mercedes in her reserved slot of the underground car park of the private apartment building and was searching her clutch bag for her door keys when mini-skirted, cigarette smoking Mandy stepped out in front of her. Mandy it seemed had gone back to her roots. Back to basics. Although it was true that she had never worked from the streets before. But here and now, it was a different Mandy to that of her hey day; those days before her arrest and before her incarceration at SECFAC. She had spent twelve weeks to the day in that place. The time didn't matter. It was what had happened there that had counted. It was what had happened after that Bitch Judge Julia had sent her down that mattered. That had turned her into what she had become to this day. Judging Julia's predicament on that basis alone the older woman should have been afraid, very afraid. I guess, had she been given time to think, to compute, she WOULD have been very afraid.

"Hi bitch, remember me?"

Mandy spoke just before the sack was pulled over the Judge's head, but there was no time to think. She looked up startled, more surprised than anything that anyone else, besides her, was in the car park at that time of night. Where were the security guards? Mandy was pretty, long legged and petite but basically a low-life. Julia had to search her memory banks long and hard to remember her. In the instant that recognition came the thick, rough sack was pulled over her head and tied around her neck from behind. In the same slick movement, her hands were pulled back and cuffed. She stumbled back on her high heels but a strong arm wrapped itself around her waist, again from behind, and held her rigid. There was no noise from inside the sack-hood. The shock had struck Julia dumb. Her usual faultless perfection and professionalism had deserted her and nothing except a bubbling whimper came out of her mouth. Instinctively there was just a brief struggle during which one un-brassiered breast spilled from the tight, low cut, sleeveless cocktail dress. She tried to move herself, her arms to cover herself but that didn't work. Mandy watched the breast spill and then bounce to a standstill. She watched the large, thick nipple become erect in the cold night air and smiled. The eighteen year old hooker took a long deep drag on her cigarette. She stood and looked at her captive.

'Nice and tall".

The ankle length, black cocktail dress, by design, was provocatively split up the front of one thigh, to the hip. The way she was being held meant that one leg, completely sheathed in the dark brown of her nylon pantihose, was fully displayed by the slit. The feeling of vulnerability when it came, was instant and packed a severe punch. She could feel her nipple erect. She couldn't see it but she could feel it. She could feel it filling, thickening and elongating and then she could feel that familiar throb in the base of the nipple. Inside her own mind she let out a sob, but the sob didn't make it to her mouth or escape the luscious smoothness of her perfectly glossed lips. Maybe Judge Julia's intelligence and abnormally high IQ was a hindrance to her in this predicament. Maybe just maybe her super intelligence was telling her that she was in deep, deep shit here and that it wasn't going to be a happy ending. She shuddered at the nipple throb. It was the throb she always got. She referred to it as her secret throb. It wasn't something she ever ever talked about. That was something she never did; talk about her most personal private things. That was one of the things that added to her allure. It added to her mystery and it added to her perfection. No-one ever got to KNOW Judge Julia either professionally or socially. But here and now, her secret thing, that thing with her nipples was on display. She could feel it on display. Somehow she could FEEL the young girl's eyes on her. Somehow it was like she could even feel the thoughts Mandy was thinking.

'Nice long legs '.

'Good hips must mean a nice rounded arse'.

Mandy's thoughts were very loud inside her own head. She didn't speak them. She was thinking, sizing up the Judge. Looking at the bigger picture; future prospects and all that. This had been the first time she had seen the Bitch since that day in the Crown Court. And then she hadn't really seen her at all. Just that freaky white wig and the black silks robes. And only a very brief glimpse of her standing but getting no idea of just how well stacked this stuck up cunt was. The one and only vivid memory of Judge Julia that Mandy had was that red lipstick. Deep almost blood red, and gloss. That vision, those lips would always but always stay with Mandy. That and the words that hissed between her lips as she summed up and handed down sentence. Here and now she was impressed, very impressed. She took another drag on the cigarette before dropping it to the floor and stabbing it out with one carefully aimed stiletto heel. She approached her captive and deliberately aimed a long nailed flick at her exposed, erect nipple.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh godddddddddd noooooooooooo dontttttttt you DARE dooo that.”

A screech from inside the hood, as the flick sent a spasm into the core of the nipple and therefor into the throb that existed there. Another slight struggle but the arm held her tight. Mandy scooped the remaining breast from the confines of the cocktail dress and dropped it casually, so that it bounced and so that the flesh rippled. Both breasts rippled and then rested. Mandy flicked the softer nipple to rush its erection. Another screech from inside the hood.

'Nice, big nippled titties.'

Julia began the process of becoming mortified inside the hood. Her usual impeccable, perfect ability to perform under duress was deserting her and she was beginning to find it difficult to think straight, or even logically. She swallowed a gulp that sounded noisy in her own head and ears, and in the confines of the rough sack hood as her mind suffered another degree of meltdown. Julia wasn't used to this world. She wasn't brought up in such a cruel world and didn't really know that such a world existed. Maybe a sign that modern day Judges are detached from reality; and that they don't actually understand the world they are expected to judge during trials. This was becoming a severe and acutely debilitating first lesson for Judge Julia; and yet, her ordeal hadn't even started.

"There are lots of men - and women - who will pay a fortune to have some fun with you, Bitch'"

Mandy emphasising the Bitch word and speaking this time, rather than just thinking. Not understating at all as Julia might have, but getting her point across in the venom of her voice. Shock giving way to realisation meant that a noise, slightly more audible than a screech coming
from
inside the hood. A terrified reaction to what Mandy was saying. Yes Julia's mind was melting and she was becoming disorientated, and yet, her natural ability to listen and absorb words spoken by others stayed with her. She would have laughed if some little scrote like Mandy had uttered those words from the witness dock in a Crown Court because that was HER world. That was her stomping ground where SHE ruled the roost. If some low life drug taking whore uttered ANY words of contempt to her from the dock she would more often than not add to the sentence she had already decided on in advance. But this wasn't the Crown Court, this wasn't her world, her stomping ground. The world was alien. Julia didn't like this world but she had no power or control to remove herself from it.