Alice In Chains by Adriana Arden

it downward, turning the hole into a dark slot as it stretched. Alice gasped. She had never felt anything like that before. It was not hugely painful but horribly intimate.
    ‘How do you like that?’ they asked.
    ‘Very … clever, Masters. I hope I please you now.’
    The pair exchanged a glance and shook their heads. ‘You’re not making enough noise,’ they told her.
    Alice began to groan loudly and wriggle about, but it failed to impress her audience.
    ‘You’re just putting it on,’ they said. ‘We don’t believe you. We thought you wanted to please us.’
    ‘I do, Masters,’ Alice insisted.
    They grinned again, and suddenly Alice felt a trap closing. ‘Then see how many of these you can fit inside you,’ they said, bringing out a box of white candles. ‘Show us some proper tears …’
    Alice whimpered. ‘No, please don’t do that …’
    But of course they took no notice.
    With one standing on each side of her they pried open her vagina and anus and began stuffing them with candles. Alice sobbed as each wax cylinder was slotted into her and her orifices began to bulge. Three, then four in her rear. Six … no, seven in her vulva.
    The boys stepped back, satisfied that both her holes were well filled. Alice hung there; numbed, shivering, fearful, perversely excited. She had been turned into a novelty living candle-holder. But would they …? They did. A match flared into life and they lit the candles.
    She felt the heat of the flames from eleven candles on her inner thighs. The boys cheered, the flames reflected in their eyes. How far would they let them burn down? How hot would she get?
    The tightly clustered candles melted far more quickly than if they had been burning separately. In a minute Alice felt the first rivulets of hot wax touch the narrow tight-stretched bridge of flesh between her two stuffed orifices. Then it seemed to pour down her. It ran between her thighs and into her pubic down and into the cleft of her buttocks. The hook and string held open the upper folds of her cleft, allowing it to flow into its sensitive depths and even plug the mouth of her urethra. What was worse, the wax trickled down the spaces between the candles into the tender depths of her gaping passages and set in those moist hollows after they had passed on their stinging heat.
    Alice shrieked and wailed and twisted in her bonds, to the delight of the twins. To add to her torment they brought out their bamboos and began caning her trussed and bouncing globes. Jerking away from the blows by reflex she arched her back, drawing the strings taut, pulling the nooses tighter about her breasts and dragging the hook deeper into her urethra. Her contortions splattered wax more widely, droplets decorating the insides of her thighs. Rivulets overflowed her groin and began to run down her stomach. Drips fell on the exposed undersides of her bound breasts.
    Then came the final humiliation. Through her tears Alice saw the twins pull out their stiff cocks and begin masturbating vigorously, aroused by the picture of suffering she presented. As she sobbed and moaned they came over her red face, adding their splattered ejaculate to the wax that was already dripping down upon it. They found it more fun to watch her suffer than to come inside her, Alice thought miserably. She would not even get the reward of a proper climax for all her pain!
    The twins let the candles burn down until her inner thighs and buttocks felt as though they were scorching and the wicks were flickering in tiny ponds of hot wax rimmed by her stretched orifices before blowing them out. Unhooking the spreader bar they carried her outside and laid her on the ground, her legs still tied wide. They left the plugs of wax in her for the rest of the day, so she lay soiled and shamed and horribly excited but unable to bring herself off. When they finally pulled them out she lost a few feathers embedded in the wax and yelped loudly. That final indignity convinced her. She