The Pole
  copyright 2005, dungeonmouse

    At Dusk, Smyrna leads the Furies' coffle from Wheel Room #1.  Diedra, Tiffany and the other Furies girls have just finished their shift on the wheel.  The coffle shuffles down the stone corridor, leg irons rattling.  Diedra is as happy as a girl gets in the Prison for Women's dungeons.  The wheel shift went as well as any she can remember.  The new prisoner, Tiffany, freaked out and got them all whipped but she seems settled down now.  Tiffany stumbles along in front of Diedra, exhausted from her day on the wheel. 
    The coffle clinks and clatters down the corridor, through the main chamber and into the bath and exam room.  The bath area, like all rooms in the dungeons, is round with a high domed ceiling.  Chiseled from bedrock, the floors and walls are granite, hard and sharp.  The coffle shuffles around the wall until each girl stands under a large iron ring.  The guards move quickly from prisoner to prisoner, locking each girl's wrist chain to the ring above her head.  Tiffany starts as the guard pulls her wrists up.  She struggles half-heartedly but the guard overpowers her without apparent effort.  Tiffany tugs at the chains as if in a dream.  Diedra lifts her wrists over her head and he guard snaps on the lock without even pausing.
    When all the girls are shackled to the wall, a guard leads in six girls, each carrying a bucket filled with soapy water and a brush.  The porridge girls are prisoners serving lesser sentences.  Their chains are polished steel rings on their wrists, necks, ankles and waists joined by shiny steel chains.  They work cleaning cells, assisting with bathing and, of course, delivering porridge.  The porridge girls split into two teams, each with a guard.  One team starts clockwise around the bath room, the other counter-clockwise.  The clockwise team starts with Diedra.  The guard grabs the very large brush from the first porridge girl's bucket, swirls it in the soapy liquid then scrubs Diedra from head to toe.  Diedra shivers at the first cold splash.  The guard works quickly but thoroughly, covering every inch of Diedra's body with the coarse brush.  The chains still braided in her hair catch on the brush and she yelps at the unfamiliar pain.  Without prompting, Diedra turns as far as her chains will allow so the guard can reach her back.  She winces as the strong soap burns the raw welts on her back.  She spreads her legs and nuzzles the brush with her ass as the guard cleans her there.  Diedra turns around when the guard withdraws the brush.  She stands erect, mouth open wide.  The guard drops the first brush in its bucket and grabs the second, smaller, brush from its bucket.  The guard scrubs Diedra's mouth with the second brush.  When the guard pulls the brush from Diedra's mouth, Diedra spreads her legs wide.  The guard takes the final brush from its bucket, pushes it into Diedra's honey hole, twirls it twice around and pulls it out.  Diedra twists with excitement as the brush turns inside her.  The guard, with her attending bucket carriers, moves to the next prisoner.  Diedra is scrubbed inside and out in less than a minute.
    Diedra stands, eyes shut against the strong soap waiting for the guards to wash the remaining prisoners.  She swishes the soap around in her mouth, slowly pushing it out her lips and letting it dribble down her soapy chin.  Spitting will get her whipped, so she eases the soap out a little at a time.  Diedra listens as the guards wash the other girls.  Some whimper or cry at the cold water and coarse brushes.  A riding crops cracks against tender flesh on several occasions when a prisoner is too slow turning around, opening her mouth or spreading her legs.  Several who suffered especially bad penetrations during their last rest scream when the last brush invades their body.  Most groan with pleasure at the rough bath and several, like Diedra, gasp and moan with delight as the third brush scours their inner flesh.  Tiffany gets her bath last.  She cries out when the cold water and rough bristles assault her skin.  Diedra hears the chains rattle as the guard jerks Tiffany around to wash her back.  The brush snaps loudly and Tiffany whimpers most pitifully as the guard slaps her thighs apart to clean her ass.  Tiffany's cries change to a terrified gurgle as the second brush sloshes around her mouth.  The guards anticipate Tiffany's reaction to the last brush.  Diedra senses a guard in front of her.  She hears Tiffany's wrist chains clink and jerk as the guards, one on either side, pull Tiffany's legs out from under her, leaving her hanging by her wrist chains.  Diedra presses her arms over her ears as Tiffany screams like a wounded animal at the touch of the final brush.  When the guards move on, Diedra hears no rattle or tinkle from Tiffany's chains.  Tiffany hangs by her wrists, wailing incoherently.
    Diedra hears the water rush from the hose and opens her mouth.  The guard hoses her down with the icy water, working top to bottom.  Diedra worked most of the soap from her mouth so she gets a good drink when the guard flushes out her mouth.  She clamps her thighs around the nozzle when the guard flushes out her honey hole.  Sometimes the trick works and she gets to ride the nozzle for a moment.  This guard is in a hurry and slaps Diedra's thighs apart with her riding crop.  The guards, again in two teams, work quickly rinsing off the prisoners.  Tiffany shrieks when the cold water hits her but is too numb to put up much struggle when the guard flushes out her insides.  As the guards roll up the hoses, the doctor begins her rounds.
    Doctor Alexandra takes special interest in the prisoners.  She documents their condition carefully, dictating notes to a guard.  She examines each girl quickly but thoroughly, checking ears, eyes, nose, throat, tongue and teeth while standing close and breathing deeply.  She professionally checks each shit hole with a mirror on a long stick.  She carefully inspects each honey hole directly, pealing the labia apart and methodically checking the entire organ.  She applies salve to open whip cuts.  She pokes mere welts with a sharp fingernail.  She examines the chains still braided in Diedra's hair and murmurs "Nice work.  Very neat."  She inquires after each girl's health.  She turns apoplectic when Tiffany actually tells her.  The guards whip Tiffany into submission and the doctor leaves, her rounds complete.
    The guards circle the room yet again, unfastening the prisoners from the wall and shackling their wrists behind them.  Tiffany, still dazed from her whipping, collapses when the guards unlock her wrist chains, pulling Diedra and the girl ahead to their knees.  The guard locks Tiffany's wrists behind her but not to the waist band.  The guard then hooks Tiffany's arms over Diedra's neck, so Tiffany hangs down Diedra's chest.  The guard then shackles Tiffany's leg irons to the waist band of the girl ahead.   A few cracks from the riding crop and Diedra and the other girl hoist Tiffany from the floor.  The coffle shuffles from the room.
    The guards march the coffle down the rest corridor, stopping every few paces to unchain a girl from the coffle and secure her for the night.  Tonight, most enter their rest period with the common grunts or yelps.  A few scream.  One shouts "No, no, no, no, no...." until a gag silences her.  A couple moan with hungry lust.  Lucky bitches, thinks Diedra.
    Finally, only Diedra, Tiffany and the girl ahead remain.  The guards unchain the girl carrying Tiffany's feet and secure her in a cell.  Diedra hears many chains rattle as lock after lock clicks.  The girl gasps "Shit!" as the final lock clicks.  The riding crop cracks three times very loud then the steel door swings shut with a dull clank followed by three loud clicks as the deadbolts seal the girl in for her rest.
    The guard slaps Diedra's thighs with the riding crop and points to the cell across the corridor.  With Tiffany still draped around her neck, Diedra staggers into the cell.  In the cell, Diedra's becomes very uneasy.  The cell contains a prodded pole.  Once a prisoner gets used to living in chains and working like a horse, the only truly bad things in the dungeons are the nasty surprises.  This cell feels like a very nasty surprise to Diedra.
    The prodded pole is a spoke from one of the wheels.  It hangs from the ceiling by a chain on each end.  The guards raise or lower the pole to any desired height by adjusting the chains.  The prisoner straddles the pole with her ankles pulled out to the sides by chains leading to eyebolts in the floor.  Her arms are pulled up and out to eyebolts in the ceiling.  Her waist band is chained front and rear to the pole.  The guards usually leave a little slack in the chains, allowing the prisoner to move around a bit.  The prods are large metal phalluses attached to the top of the pole.  They fit inside the prisoner.  They are what makes Diedra so uneasy.  The prodded pole is the ultimate reward for a prisoner.  Diedra can get a half-dozen orgasms and a good night's sleep on the pole.  Such a night coming after an easy day on the wheel is just too good to be true.  When things in the dungeons look too good to be true, they are.

  The guards lower the pole about knee-high.  They lead Diedra over to the pole with Tiffany still draped around her neck.    The guards unshackle Diedra's ankles and she steps across the pole.  As the guards fasten her ankles to eyebolts on the floor, Diedra notices the pole has, not two, but four prods, all very close together.  If the guards put both of them on this pole with those prods, the two girls will be pressed together.  Diedra doesn't like this at all.  The guards unlock her wrists from her waist band and connect them to the ceiling.  She offers no resistance.  Fighting the guards is a certain sentence to several agonizing rests.  You are going to spend the rest period, indeed your whole life, in these chains.  Why fight over where the guards attach them?  Diedra stands spread-eagled with two prods just below her holes.  The guards revive Tiffany by spraying her nostrils with a small bottle not unlike a hay fever remedy.  This bottle contains a powerful stimulant.  The guards use it to heighten a prisoner's sensations and increase either pain or pleasure.  Diedra is pretty sure the guards are not planning unadulterated pleasure for Tiffany.  Tiffany comes around with a jerk.  The guards unshackle her ankles and lift her off Diedra's neck.
    For the first time since she fell off the toilet bucket, Tiffany seems aware of her surroundings.  She looks at the guards and shrinks back from them.  Her eyes flicker around the cell and she twitches as she recognizes the stone walls, the dim lights in their iron cages and the profusion of eyebolts and chains festooning the cell.  She looks down at the pole and screams.  Her scream is not the terrified scream of a prisoner facing painful punishment.  It isn't even the hopeless scream of a naked woman sentenced to a life of steel and stone, work and pain.  It is the scream of a true believer whose faith is shattered.  Tiffany screams like a nun staring into Hell.
    She lurches away from the pole, kicking and twisting.  Her strength catches the guards by surprise.  She actually manages to twist free of one guard and knock the other one down.  Tiffany and guard fall towards the floor only to pull up short on the chain leading back to Diedra's neck.  Diedra's head snaps forward and down.  Her neck and chest follow the falling pair but her wrists remained chained to the ceiling.  Diedra instinctively relaxes then tenses her torso to dampen the blow.  The steel bands bite into her neck and wrists.  Bone crackles and sinew hums.  Diedra grunts from the pain.    With a jolt that threatens to break Diedra's neck and separate both shoulders, the whole squirming mass of guard and Tiffany jars to a halt.  Diedra hangs from the chains, Tiffany and the guard dangling from her neck.  Her upper body is afire but her muscles respond.  Diedra pulls and coaxes the tussling pair across the floor enough to ease the load on her neck.  Her neck is saved by Tiffany landing on the guard rather than the other way round.  The other two guards step in and grapple with the screaming, thrashing blonde. Diedra's neck and shoulders take several more nasty jerks in the process. As the guards lift Tiffany and the neck chain goes slack, Diedra tentatively moves her neck and shoulders.  Everything hurts but everything works.  The rest period on the prodded pole won't be as comfortable as she'd thought but this neck pain isn't the real surprise.   Diedra now sees the real torture she must endure.  A rest spent chained to a raving lunatic will be a very long rest indeed.
    With all four guards hanging on, they control Tiffany.  The probes terrify her and she fights like death to stay off the pole.  Diedra leans away from the struggle but, as she is chained to the main participant, she absorbs kicks and slaps from both Tiffany and the guards.  Diedra glimpses Helga out the corner of her eye just before she sees the yellow flash and feels her body go painfully rigid.
    Diedra wakes staring at the ceiling, hanging by her wrist chains.  She cannot move and her body burns all over.  She can hear chains rattling and sees Tiffany's wrists dangling from chains going to the same eyebolts as her wrist chains.  She feels a body pressed against hers.  The chains stop rattling and she hears Helga's gruff voice.
    "Wait a minute.  I want her awake when we pull the pole up."  Diedra regains some muscle control and lifts her head.  Helga stands beside the pole, cattle prod in hand.  Helga smiles at Diedra and grabs the neck chain. 
    "This makes a very good conductor, as you just discovered.  Still, you're better off with her subdued than thrashing about.  Oh, but I'm forgetting.  You still must spend this rest with her."  Helga looks grim again and stares around the cell. 
    "There's something afoot, Diedra.  The Bitch hasn't made it clear to me yet, but she's on the move.  You and this..." Helga pokes Tiffany's dangling form with the inert cattle prod "this flower play some role.  Don't muck it up, Diedra and do try to make your pole mate grasp the gravity of the situation."
    Diedra isn't sure she understands the gravity of the situation enough to make anyone understand but she knows better than to say so.  She nods at Helga.  Diedra looks at the blonde.  Her head is thrown back.  A guard is buckling a gag into her mouth.
    "Don't get you hopes up, Diedra.  It's just for the insertion."  The guard removes the neck chain from them and replaces it with a very short chain, only a few links.  Diedra shifts as the guard attaches the links and notices her waist band was also attached to Tiffany's waist band.  She is closely bound to this maniac with just enough room for Tiffany to get some speed behind her limbs before she smashes into Diedra.  The wrist and ankle chains are snug, not tight.  Both girls have room to move which means room to do damage.  The guards attach chains to each side of Diedra and Tiffany's waist bands and pulled them bar-taut in a horizontal X.  Diedra and Tiffany's hips are now immobile.
    Tiffany stirs.  After a minute or so, she lifts her head.  As her eyes focus, she emits a thin wail from behind the gag.   She begins struggling fiercely.  Diedra leans back away from her, but the chains are too short.  Amid the pounding limbs and rattling chains, Diedra hears the clicking chains as the guards raise the pole.  Two guards pull on the end chains while the other two steer the probes.  When the probes touch Diedra, she relaxes her pubic muscles and pushes slightly with her rectal muscles.  The barely lubricated probes press into her, pinching her flesh and pulling the skin along with them into the holes. 
    Tiffany explodes.  Diedra has never heard so much noise from behind a gag.  Tiffany struggles violently on all directions, pummeling Diedra with her arms, legs and head.  Diedra grabs her by the wrists, holding on tight just below the cuffs.  Diedra then picks her legs up  the few inches allowed by the chains and hooks her ankles behind Tiffany's ankles.  By pulling herself close and hanging on, Diedra avoids the worst of Tiffany's swinging limbs.  With the weight gone off her legs, Diedra slides a couple inches farther down on the probes.  They pull at her flesh but she keeps relaxed and the probes slide in smoothly.  Diedra is certain Tiffany has her holes puckered up tight as, well, as a virgin's ass.  The probes are going into Tiffany the same as Diedra but Diedra knows from hard experience that Tiffany feels like she is being torn in two by the probes.
    Diedra waits until Tiffany throws her head back sharply.  As Tiffany brings her head forward, so does Diedra.  She head-butts Tiffany right between the eyes.  Tiffany's head snaps back and she collapses in the chains, shoving the probes in.  The guards finish raising the pole, remove Tiffany's gag and leave the cell.  Helga looks at Diedra then leaves the cell.  The thick iron door creaks and clangs shut.  The deadbolts bang and click.  As the senior guard closes the final lock Diedra hears her comment to her deputy.
    "Do not leave that Diedra unchained, ever.  She never gives trouble but she could kill you in an instant if she wanted."  Diedra has never thought of herself as a dangerous prisoner.  She has survived the dungeons and become mentally and physically tough in the process.  She can intimidate other prisoners when the need arises.  But dangerous?  Diedra doesn't see it.  Head butting Tiffany was the easy way for all concerned, including Tiffany.  Diedra avoided any more bruises and Tiffany avoided the agonizing probe insertion into her virginal passages.  All for the price of a bump on each forehead.  And Tiffany's bloody nose.  Diedra squints at the blonde's face only a few inches away.  Maybe a broken nose.  But probably not.  Probably just a bloody nose.   Diedra hopes she hasn't broken the blonde's nose.  The girl has a gorgeous face underneath the pain lines and despair wrinkles.  She is a classic beauty, tall and thin with race horse legs and nice curves on her hips and breasts.  If she hadn't gone mad, riding the pole with her tonight would be heaven, or the closest thing one can find in the dungeons.  Instead, Diedra will likely spend the night fending off the girl's mad struggles.  She'll probably head-butt her several more times.  That  patrician nose will definitely be broken by morning. 
    Diedra looks around.  She can see.  The guards left the lights on in the cell.  Diedra has always spent her rests in total darkness.  Diedra mentally shrugs.  The improbable and unusual events are piling up too fast to track them all.  Diedra slides slowly up and down on the probes, working up some lubrication on the one, enjoying the friction on the other.  When Tiffany stirs, Diedra is in sub-space, enjoying the first real arousal she's had in days.
    The blonde coughs and gasps, breathing through her mouth, trying to clear the blood from her nose.  Diedra stops her dance on the probes.  Oh, bother.  Why couldn't the little bitch stay out a few minutes longer?  Diedra really wants this orgasm.  It is the first she's had all to herself in...damn, when was the last time?  Diedra tries to hurry the thing along but that plan is doomed from the start.  Oh well, no help for it.  Maybe she'll just kill this woman and be done with it.  A nice, undisturbed orgasm or six might be worth smelling Tiffany's corpse.  With all the trouble she's been, Tiffany has certainly given good cause for Diedra to kill her.  Diedra shakes her head.  Is she really thinking these things?  Is she a killer?  Or worse?  She doesn't feel different.  She doesn't feel the dungeon has changed her, just brought out a few dormant characteristics.  Does she have a murderous streak?  Or is she just being tough and practical in a demanding situation?
The latter, I think.  But you can kill.  Everyone can, given the right situation.
    Diedra jumps.  The Bitch normally speaks to her during violent or painful situations.  This one might qualify in a few minutes when Tiffany comes fully to her senses but not now.
    "Do you want me to kill this woman?  Is that why Helga chained me to her?  So it's a simple case of prisoners run amok?"
No, Diedra, I don't want you to kill this woman.  You're chained to her so you can keep her alive.  Helga is right.  Things are afoot.  Dangerous things.  This woman has a role and she must stay alive to play that role.
    "At the risk of sounding whiney, why me?  Why chain her to the toughest wheel in the dungeon?  Why chain her to the meanest prisoner, if that guard is telling the truth?  Why not make her a porridge girl?  Go easy one her, let her be sexy in those jewelry chains, give her to the old guys upstairs.  She looks like she'd enjoy all that."
That would keep her alive.  But I don't just need her alive.  I need her like Diedra, pushing like a mule all day on the wheel after being whipped bloody on top of an evil rest period with a phallus down her throat.  I need her to ride the pole like a rutting she-goat even after all that.  I need her a dungeon slut.
    "OK, I admit to those qualifications.  But what makes you think I can convince her?  She doesn't look like she'll listen to anyone, no even you.  And the way she's struggling, she might kill me."
Don't convince her.  Show her.  Be Diedra.  As for the other, I need you alive more than I need her.  If it comes down to you or her, kill her.
    Diedra has no reply to this.  The Bitch isn't joking.  If Tiffany really is too over the edge, the Bitch expects Diedra to smash that gorgeous face into pieces.  The thought repulses Diedra in the vilest way possible.  She also knows, if it comes to that, she'll do the deed.  And that realization repulses her even more.  Diedra begins shivering.  The cell is warm but she shakes from head to toe and can't stop.  She realizes the only way out is to keep Tiffany alive and somehow make her horny.
  Good plan.  Things will get busy soon.  I can't help you much but I'll get you started. The Voice pauses for a long moment.  Good luck.
    Diedra feels a warm glow spread through her loins.  She still shivers but the air seems warmer.  Without thinking she slides up and down on the probes.  The glow spreads.  Always a sloppy slut, Diedra soon has the pole dripping with warm, musky juice.  By wiggling, she gets it flowing back along the pole and lubricates her rear hole.  Now things really get going.  Tiffany remains mercifully still.  Diedra throws her head back and moans long and loud.  Her warm juices splatter all over the pole and trickle down her legs.  Both holes throb with heat and tingling excitement.  The steel bands on her body hug her in their smooth, firm grip.  The chains hold her exhausted body and give her strength.  She twists her head side to side, enjoying the sensuous way the steel cradles her throat.  She really is a dungeon slut.  Always has been, always will be.  And she loves it.  She rides the pole like a horny satyr, pounding the pole, rattling the chains, spraying her honey around the cell.  Diedra soars, her body humming with hormones and passion.  She could go like this all night and tomorrow push the wheel like a team of horses.
    As the first orgasm rises with quivering intensity, a high, thin squeal, crackling with pain, breaks into Diedra's revere.  Oh shit, Tiffany is back.  Diedra opens one eye and watches her pole mate while keeping the mood going.  Pain contorts Tiffany's face almost beyond recognition.  Her arms pull on the wrist chains and her legs push on the floor.  She is trying to lift herself off the probes.  Any movement hurts so much, she isn't actually lifting herself, just tensing all her muscles.  Tears stream down her cheeks.  Her mouth emits that piercing squeal past lips pulled thin and tight across gritted teeth.  Deep furrows radiate from her clamped-shut eyes.
    Diedra grabs Tiffany's wrists and pushes up as she bounces upward on the probes.  A blood curdling scream bursts from Tiffany's lips.  Her fingers and toes curl in clinches of pain.  Diedra pounds the pole harder and harder.  She hisses at the girl between gasps of breath.
    "Stay high.  As you can.  I'll lube.  Your probes.  Feel better."  Diedra rolls her hips back so her sloppy twat points more towards Tiffany.  Hydraulic slurking echoes off the rock walls as fluid streams squirt against Tiffany's probes.  Tiffany, Bitch be blessed,  stays tensed ramrod stiff.
    After a few minutes, Diedra eases Tiffany back down.  Tiffany pumps out a grunt from hell then shudders and shakes.  Diedra lifts her up again and resumes pumping.  Tiffany lets out a groan-scream.  She fights Diedra but, tensed up as she is, she manages only a few rough twitches in her arms and legs.  Diedra warms to her work and liquid splashes against Tiffany's thighs and belly.  Diedra lowers her to the pole and lifts her back up.  Tiffany gasps and twitches.  Pump, squirt, pump, squirt, pump, squirt.  Lower Tiffany, raise Tiffany.  Pump, squirt, pump, squirt, pump, squirt.  So it goes.  Sliding Tiffany up and down the probes becomes easier as Tiffany slowly relaxes.  Diedra falls into a rhythm and begins a slow burn again.  Finally, Diedra lowers Tiffany down the probes and the girl just shakes, no longer fighting the probes.  She holds herself above the pole but she is no longer tensed up like an iron rod..  Diedra lets her go and focuses on her own probes.  She builds quickly on probes slippery wet with honey juice.  She dances with the chains, tugging and leaning against them, twisting her limbs in their embrace, teasing their metallic strength with her soft flesh.  The chains reply, caressing her skin with cool, hard palms, teasing her with tinkles of movement followed by hard restraint.  Diedra breathes the musk, the sweat, the steel and the rock in the dark dungeon air with pulsing gasps.  Finally, she comes.  She settles on the pole, pressing the probes deep into her body and smashing her lips down hard on the pole. Chains rattle.  The pole rocks.  Sweet honey flows onto the floor.  Hips grind and thump against the pole.  Leather muscles and custard flesh eagerly embrace the steel probes.  Diedra lays back her head and howls her passion to the stone ceiling.
     Diedra sags into her own chains, rocking her hips slowly, enjoying the afterglow while building towards the next one.  Tiffany sobs, her shoulders heaving and hot tears running down her face.  Diedra hears her whisper through the sobs.
    "Please.  God.  Kill me.  Can't take.  This.  Kill.  Me now."  Diedra sighs.  She doesn't know what to say to the girl.  She tentatively touches Tiffany's fingers.  Tiffany twitches.  Diedra gently takes Tiffany's hands in her own.
    "I won't hurt you.  I can try to make the hurt go away if you want.  Do you want me to do that?"  Tiffany shakes her head.  She grasps the chains and tries to pull herself off the probes.  Her face contorts with pain and her sobs string together into a long shudder.  Diedra tries again.
    "Easy.  Relax.  Take a deep breath."  Diedra massages Tiffany's wrists and hands until the girl relaxes her grip then Diedra rubs her thumbs into Tiffany's palms.  Diedra leans her head forward beside Tiffany's.  Diedra is taller than Tiffany and can reach the rear of Tiffany's shoulder with her chin.  She gently rubs the blonde's neck and shoulder.  Tiffany twitches at Diedra's touch.  Diedra feels Tiffany's hips and abdomen tense as Tiffany moves.  She's feeling the probes again.  Tiffany twists and jerks, trying again to expel the probes from her body.  Diedra grasps Tiffany's wrists and hooks her ankles behind Tiffany's as before but gently this time.  She pulls Tiffany close.
    "Shhhh.  Stay still.  The probes hurt when you move and tense up.  Relax and everything will be fine."  Diedra murmurs reassurance into Tiffany's ear while she cuddles the girl as best she can in the chains.  Tiffany struggles to escape Diedra's embrace but the chains hold them too close for her to do much.  Tiffany pulls on the chains with her wrists and ankles, banging her limbs inside the metal cuffs and slamming the steel links together into stiff bars.  She pulls herself up several inches and hangs there quivering with tension.  A vibrato wail echoes off the stone walls.
    Suddenly, something slips.  Tiffany's strength gives out or her foot slips or she loses her grip on the chain.  Tiffany's body jerks sideways and twists as she falls onto the pole.  The sudden motion catches Diedra by surprise and she falls against Tiffany, pushing her backwards.  The probes drive into their bodies.  Diedra gets a quick thrill as the metal monsters rumble full-length into her passages.  Tiffany screeches in agony then scrambles wildly, trying to claw her way off the probes.  She flails her arms and legs, banging her limbs and chains against Diedra.  Diedra hangs on as before but lays her head next to Tiffany's head, trying to avoid getting accidentally head-butted by Tiffany.  Tiffany displays surprising strength for such a skinny thing but, now that Diedra knows what to expect, she hangs on easily to the thrashing blonde.  Tiffany tires after a few minutes and subsides to jerking her chains and Diedra about haphazardly.  Diedra whispers in her ear.
    "You know, I really like it when you struggle."  Diedra isn't sure why she said that.  It seems cruel but also seems the thing to say at the moment.  Tiffany jerks her head back and looks at Diedra.  The blonde's eyes are bloodshot and rimmed in red.  Her breath comes in ragged gasps between anguished sobs.  Her lips are drawn back in a painful snarl.  As she stares at Diedra, the snarl changes to a disgusted grimace with no movement of her lips.
    "You are sick."  Tiffany spits out the last word.  Diedra shrugs and sits back on her probes.
    "I'm also alive."
    "Some lives aren't worth living."  Tiffany blubbers her next words.  "God, I wish they would kill me and get this over with."  Diedra looks at the girl, studying her.
    "If I were a cat with nine lives, I'd agree.  I only have this life and I will stretch it as long as I can."  Diedra releases her grip on Tiffany and holds her hands gently.  "Besides, Helga and the guards won't let us die.  They need us alive so we can push the wheels.  No matter how bad things get, they never get fatal so we enjoy what we can and put up with the rest."  The part about 'never getting fatal' isn't strictly true, hell it isn't even a good lie, but Diedra doesn't think Tiffany needs to know that just now.  Tiffany twists in her chains and wails loudly.
     "God, I hurt so bad.  I can't take this any more."  The girl starts to thrash about again though not as violently as before.  Diedra grabs her wrists and steadies the more extreme swings.
    "OK, Tiffany, you're hurting yourself.  Stop banging around and relax.  You hurt because you're all tensed up on the probes.  We're going to relax together and make the hurt go away."
    "I can't.  It hurts too bad.  Please just let me die."
    "You can't die, Tiffany.  Helga won't allow it and she won't make it better.  You and I have to make it better.  Look at me, Tiffany.  Open your eyes and look at me, dammit."  Tiffany looks at Diedra with slightly crossed eyes.  Diedra slides up and down on her probes, moving carefully so she doesn't move Tiffany or her probes.
    "Look at me, Tiffany.  Does it look like the probes are hurting me?  I'm sliding up and down on them and they feel fine.  I lubricated your probes and yours can feel this good if you just relax."  In fact, Diedra's rear probe has dried out a bit and scrapes as she rides it but if zero pain is your goal, you really will go insane in the dungeons.  Tiffany has stopped struggling and Diedra seems to have captured whatever attention Tiffany can spare so Diedra keeps going.
    "You and I are going to relax, Tiffany.  We'll start with our head and shoulders.  We'll roll our heads around on our shoulder and then we'll roll our shoulders up and down."  Diedra talks Tiffany through the relaxation routine, working from the extremities inward.  Diedra massages Tiffany's limbs as best she can with the chains.  When they get to the torso, Diedra presses herself against Tiffany.  The probes are close enough so Diedra can brush her belly against Tiffany's.  Tiffany's skin is silky smooth and exquisitely soft.  Diedra feels her old welts and healed scars rubbing against that creamy flesh and moves as delicately as she can.  Slowly, Tiffany relaxes.  Diedra hopes Tiffany's probes haven't dried out too much as she starts the last step.
"Very good, Tiffany.  We're feeling much better.  Now we're going to move on the probes just a little so we know they can't hurt us.  Keep breathing nice and slow, nice and deep.  Good.  Now move with me up a little and down a little."  Tiffany gasps and her body tenses as Diedra eases them up.
    "Breathe, Tiffany, breathe.  This won't hurt if you stay relaxed."  Diedra rubs against Tiffany, keeping her own body relaxed.  Rubbing against Tiffany has started Diedra's juices flowing again.  Warm juices slide down Diedra's front probe.
    "I'm going to make the probes feel even better, Tiffany.  I want you to stay still and just breathe and relax.  That's it.  Breathe and relax."  Diedra moves away from Tiffany the centimeters the chains allow and pumps herself quickly up and down on her probes.  The first stream she aims backwards at her own rear probes then rolls her hips to splatter Tiffany's probes again with warm syrup.
    "There, that will feel better.  OK.  Breathe and relax.  Now up just a little and down just a little."  Tiffany stays more relaxed this time.  Diedra shoots a few more streams at Tiffany as the blonde slides up and down on her probes a few millimeters.  Finally, Tiffany stands almost normally and leans against Diedra.
    "That's much better, Tiffany.  Things are looking up.  A little while ago you were stiff with pain.  Now you're relaxed.  How are you feeling?"   Tiffany looks at Diedra with red-rimmed eyes.
    "How am I feeling?  You mean other than standing in a rock dungeon with steel bands wrapped around every limb and chained to eyebolts big enough to hold an elephant?  Or do you mean how I feel spread out, stark naked, straddling a pole, raped by steel rods?  Other than that?  I'm fine, thank you, just fine!"
    Diedra takes Tiffany’s anger and sarcasm as a hopeful sign but doesn’t express that thought.  Tiffany looks up at the heavy manacles on her wrists.  She twists her arms and tugs on the chains.  Tears roll down her cheeks. 
    “Oh, God, how did I get here?  What am I going to do?”  Tiffany’s lament comes out a hoarse whisper.  Diedra decides a little reality is called for.
    “I don’t know how you got here but I know exactly what we’re going to do.  We’re going to stay here in exactly this position all Dusk then go back and push on the wheel.  The chains will hold us here until Helga gets us next Dark.  Our only choice is how we stand here.  We can fight the chains and the probes, spend this rest in pain, not get any sleep and collapse on the wheel thereby assuring a terrible whipping.  Or we can enjoy the probes and each others company, have some fun and get a little sleep.  I know how I’m going to spend this rest.  You can spend it as you wish.”  Diedra slides very slowly up and down on her probes, moving just enough to stimulate herself but not enough to move Tiffany.  Her nipples brush against Tiffany’s breasts and Diedra marvels at the feather soft touch of Tiffany’s skin.  Tiffany stares at Diedra.
    “Oh, please stop that Diedra!  How can you do such a nasty thing?  You’re acting like a...mmmph.”  Diedra presses her mouth against Tiffany’s lips.  Tiffany jerks back but Diedra leans towards her, shoving Tiffany’s head back so the blonde cannot escape the wet kiss.  Tiffany squirms, trying to escape, and their breasts rub together.  Diedra moans, lingering for a moment in the lip lock with Tiffany then leans back.  Tiffany sputters and twitches with a small fire in her eyes.
    “OH!  WHAT...? WHY...?”  Diedra leans forward and kisses Tiffany again.  Tiffany’s lips are soft and salty butter.  Diedra can’t remember ever tasting anything so good or feeling anything so electrifyingly soft and moist.  She rides the poles more aggressively, luxuriating as the hard shafts stoke her arousal.  Her rock-hard nipples bury themselves into Tiffany’s flower-soft breasts.  Her chest heaves with deep gasps of pleasure.  Tiffany’s chest responds in kind.  Diedra presses herself against the other girl and revels in the soft touch of a companion.  In moments, Diedra’s passion peaks and she crashes over the edge, shaking the pole like a wild thing and rattling the chains to a crashing crescendo.  She slides down on the probes and lays her head on Tiffany’s shoulder.  She hears Tiffany’s anguished sobs.
    “P-please don’t do this, Diedra.  Please.  I’m not like that.  Please stop.”  Diedra looks at Tiffany.  She cries pitifully, not with huge sobs of pain like before, just plaintive cries of shame.  Diedra hangs her head. 
    “By the Bitch, I’m sorry, Tiffany.  I don’t know what else to say.  I...”  Diedra sniffs.  Her wet-dog musk hangs heavy in the cell.  But there’s another aroma there too.  A delicate, honey-sweet smell.  Diedra presses herself gently against Tiffany.  The girl’s belly is warm and her skin flushed.  “...I’m truly sorry.  Really I am.  I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.  I guess you’ve never done this before.”
    Tiffany sobs a few more times, sniffs and whispers, “I’ve never been touched before.  Ever.  Th-the pr-probes are the first things that ever touched me...there.”
    Diedra looks at Tiffany, amazed.  “But you’ve touched yourself, uh, there.  I mean, everyone explores with their own body, right?”
    Tiffany shakes her head.  “Vlad doesn’t allow it.  Even in my bed, alone, he watches.  He knows if I touch myself.  It will spoil me, ruin my power.”  Tiffany looks at Diedra, tears welling up in her eyes again.  “Oh, God.  I am dead, ruined, spoiled.  I’m no use to Vlad.  No use to God.  All that’s left for me is death and even that small comfort is denied me here.”
    Diedra puzzles over this strange speech.  “Who is Vlad?  And why didn’t he let you touch yourself?”
    “Vlad is my master, ruler of the Great Site and Archdeacon of God.  Virtue pleases God and a virgin untouched by human hands most of all.  My virtue, in its small way, helped bring peace and prosperity to the Great Site.”
    “OK, I guess that makes sense, somehow.  How did you get here?”
    “Vlad sent me to take peace to the outer reaches of the Site.  We lost our way.  The guard detail split up to search to our return path.  They hid me in a cavern.  A...something found me.  I ran further into the cavern.  The witch with flaming hair, the purple one, found me and kidnapped me.”
    “You mean Morgana, supervisor of the Mares.  So you don’t think Vlad will come for you?”
    Tiffany shakes her head.  “I’m soiled.  Where before I sowed prosperity, now I would sow disaster.  The people would stone me if I returned.”  Tiffany tugs on her chains.  “Would that I could escape life that easily.”
    Diedra considers suggesting that Tiffany is already dead and in her God’s hell but that line of reasoning doesn’t sound helpful.  She tries a different tack.  “Well, you’re in luck, Tiffany.  Vlad’s god doesn’t live here.  The Bitch rules in the dungeons and she likes you just as you are.  In fact she smiles upon us she-goats who explore and enjoy our bodies.”  Diedra sniffs the air.  “And I think you know more about enjoying your body than you are admitting.”
    Tiffany blushes.  “I-I didn’t...I can’t...Dear God, I’m so sorry.  I brought this on myself.  I deserve all this for thinking those things, feeling those evil desires.”  Tiffany weeps bitterly.
   Diedra pulls Tiffany against her.  “You are not evil.  You are not spoiled.  You are Tiffany, a girl like the rest of us.  Let me show you.”  Diedra kisses Tiffany again, softly this time.  She brushes herself lightly against Tiffany and feels the heat flow through the other girl’s skin.  “Does that feel good?”  Tiffany hangs her head.  Diedra nuzzles Tiffany’s neck above the collar, brushing her lips across the blonde’s neck, cheek and ear lobes.     She whispers in Tiffany’s ear, “It does feel good, doesn’t it?  In the dungeons, very little feels good.  Things that feel good are precious.  They are gifts from the Bitch, given to keep us alive.  The Great Site’s rules don’t apply here.  Enjoy this.  The Bitch desires it.  She commands, it.”  The honey-sweet smell grows stronger.  Tiffany looks up at Diedra.
    “Is this Bitch-goddess truly sovereign here?”
    “She truly is and she alone.”
    “And this...” Tiffany looks down at her body, “these feelings, these things happening inside me, they are good here?”
    “Yes, they are the best things here.”
    “And you have lived long here and enjoyed these things often?  And the Bitch-goddess is happy with your pleasure?”
    Diedra isn’t sure about the ‘often’ part but lets it slide.  “Yes, the Bitch takes pleasure in our pleasure.”  And in our pain, she adds silently.
    Tiffany leans against Diedra, closes her eyes and whispers, “Show me.”

Helga is off duty but stalks the corridors restlessly.  She listens at each cell door for the expected sounds.  She hears groans and weeping from the punishment cells, moans and gasps from the pleasure cells and heavy breathing from the few actual rest cells.  At the prodded pole cell, she pauses for a long time.  Finally, she nods and continues her rounds.
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