Henry Morgan - The drivers

Behind the thick leather strap that covered her mouth Claire was begging to go home. A tug from Peter towards the smoke told her no.

As they passed through the unearthly smog, like the fog of old London, Claire caught glimpses of young girls being taken on leads. Where they were going she had no way of telling because the smoke was so dense it clouded things out after just a couple of yards. Occasionally, though, the lights would sweep through the mist revealing tantalising peeks of girls on the bonnets of trucks, men's buttocks pounding up and down between their thighs.

On one occasion a petite young thing with long black hair in a tight ponytail bumped right into her. The girl's look was vacant, even when a leather tawse cracked across her bottom as a punishment for clumsiness. Her man yanked the lead and she disappeared too.

Now, in an almost dreamlike state, Claire followed dutifully behind Peter, her head darting this way and that, trying to understand the awful sights that surrounded her. The smoke started to thin out and more and more came into view, including the hanging cranes.

From the roof hung several women in chains, some were hanging by their ankles, others by their wrists, like bats in a cave. Each girl was near naked except for the occasional basque or high heeled boots, some were blindfolded and all were gagged. Claire dragged her eyes away to the fire that raged in the centre of the floor only to see more of the same.

In a great circle around the flames stood cranes for lifting the engines out of cars, like the skeleton of a wigwam. Hanging from the top of each was a young girl in the same fashion as those on the ceiling. Some were upside down, others dangled by their wrists. Peter pulled Claire to one side and forced her across the bonnet of an old Morris Minor that waited on the dirt, its wheels missing.

With the sight of so much naked flesh on display his cock was already hard and he had little trouble in locating Claire's gash, which had already suffered so much from his prick earlier that day. Plugged into his woman like that, Peter looked every inch the Driver, gripping her waist to add momentum to his thrusts. He looked over the roof of the car to see another woman being serviced across the trunk and wondered just how many females fell into the grip of The Drivers. By the look of it, the figures ran into dozens.

At the cranes Peter noticed that the women were not there just for ornament. When a man wanted one he simply disengaged the hydraulics that held her suspended and released the chain. If he had one to replace her, all he had to do was attach her in the other girl's place and haul her up off the floor with the hydraulic handle.

Returning to the task beneath him Peter, fucked his sister-in-law slowly, looking about him for ways of escape as his dick slipped in and out of her well lubricated tube.

The ends of the building looked as if they opened up fully, while there were also smaller doors built into the large end doors. When he found Susan he would take her under the pretence of needing a fuck, and make his escape along with Claire.

As he studied the main door it began to open and a large lorry reversed into the hangar. The noise and smoke from its exhaust added to the general mayhem of the building. As it made its way through the smoke a bright white light was shone on its back doors. The lorry stopped and Peter read the sign that ran along the refrigerated trailer, 'Felix Ferries'!

The words stopped his pumping hips in mid thrust and his cock slipped out from between Claire's legs. Hoping he was finished she stood up and read the sign herself, recognising it from what Peter had told her. They watched as two men jumped from the cab and began unlocking the trailer door.

Two men! Lincoln and his brother!

They pulled open the large metal doors to reveal six women, stripped and hanging from meat hooks in the refrigerator. At the press of a button the poles on which the hooks and women hung extended out of the trailer. When they were all the way out, a fork lift truck came up and the women were each transferred to a crane.

Oh God! One of them was Melanie!

Pulling Claire behind him, Peter followed to see where Melanie was taken. They stopped with her beneath a crane. Peter set Claire on a small tower of tyres and fondled her tits as he watched Melanie being forced to lie on the floor while her feet were attached to a hook and chain. When she was secure she was hauled up to hang from the ceiling, about thirty feet off the floor.

Now his plans were really complicated!

He still played with Claire's tits as he spoke to her.

"You believe me now?"

She closed her eyes and nodded her head.

"If I take off the gag, do you promise not to scream or shout, or do anything stupid like that?"

Another frightened nod.

He leant behind her to reach the buckles and added another warning. "It's not just for my sake. Let on we're not one of them and they'll kill us. Both of us! Make no mistake about that." He freed the buckle and pulled away the gag, leaving a red line on each cheek where the straps had dug into the flesh. Claire stretched wide her mouth to bring some life back to her jaw.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," she mumbled. Then with a sterner voice she added. "But no matter what you knew, it didn't give you the right to do what you did. No-one should do what you've done to me."

"That's nothing," Peter put in. "Nothing, compared to what they'll do to you if they find us." He waved his finger around the building to highlight who 'they' were, then quickly grabbed Claire and pushed her to her knees, forcing the bulbous dome of his cock into her mouth. He had seen a figure looming towards them through the smoke and knew it was dangerous to be seen simply talking to one of the girls.

He was sitting on the tyres when the man came into view. A big man, well over six feet, with a broad bright smile. A black man.

He took one look at Peter with his prick down Claire's throat. "Nice one man. I like it." Peter waited until he had dissolved back into the fog before lifting Claire up by the ears.

"That was him," he told her excitedly, his heart thumping frantically. "That was the Hell Raiser. He might lead us to Susan." He made to go after him then stopped. "Better still," he said, spinning Claire around to undo her cuffs, "you let Melanie down, and I'll get Susan."

"Melanie?" asked Claire. "You mean that girl? Why let her down? I thought we just came for Susan?"

"Because," said Peter, pointing a finger up at Melanie. "Without her help, we wouldn't be here today."

"And I'm supposed to be grateful?"

"Susan will be!" said Peter as he headed off. "Just let Melanie down and wait here until I get back."

Hell Raiser had not got far when Peter caught up with him. He was easy to follow in the confusion that reigned, the smoke and blaring rock music providing ample cover. From the direction he was taking, he looked to be heading for an incredibly bright light shining straight down onto a mass of gleaming metal. As they neared Peter realised the mass was a huge, highly polished, chromium plated wheel lying flat on a stage.

Chained on it, face upwards, was a young blonde girl.

She had wild spiky hair and the craziest neck collar of black leather with massive shiny steel nails protruding from it. As the Hell Raiser went up on the stage, Peter found himself climbing a combine harvester to get a better look.

The black man strolled across to the wheel and with his huge hands spun it around so that the girl was facing him. From his position all Peter could see was the back of the man and the legs of the girl, although he could also see the girl was devoid of pubic hair and had very pronounced sex lips.

The Hell Raiser appeared to be saying something to the chained girl as he pointed to the enormous penis which hung down clearly and menacingly between his massive legs. Eventually he turned the wheel once more so that the girl's head, which rested on the rim of the wheel, came to a stop between those very legs.