These stories were written for Biker_1980 and for Hugh. They're only one side of an email correspondence so they're a bit disjointed but hey, it's porn, how much plot do you actually need?
Clause 4.2 of the contract: ‘The second party will submit to perfect obedience to the first party. Failure to comply will result in the first party administering punishment at their discretion. No right of appeal is permitted to the second party.’ My hand shook as I signed it, both fearing and hoping what it might mean.
Unhurried, he bends to plug
the device into the mains and screws the first attachment into place, smearing
it with lubricant that glistens as it catches the light. He holds it up before my eyes so I can see
the round ball, covered in nodules. He
flicks the switch and it whines as it spins, a blur of speed. Slowly he moves it, almost but never quite
touching my flinching body, around the swell of my breast, over the curve of my
belly, between my thighs. He holds it
there and I blush as a single drop of juice falls from my swollen pussy and
splashes onto its whirring head.
Suddenly he jams it between
my legs, pressing it hard against my clit and I scream, my legs buckling under
me, the riding crop clattering to the ground as I squirm and gasp. He switches it off and silently watches me
recover. Trembling, I resume the
position and he picks up the riding crop.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The crop slices across my
buttocks, striping them scarlet as I yelp and dance from one foot to the other,
tears welling in my eyes. He’s standing
waiting, his arms folded. I stretch my
arms out behind me again, bending forwards, and he balances the crop on my arms
again.
The next attachment is thick
and curved and smooth. He slides it into
my sopping cunt where it sits, cold and heavy, its tip pressed against the wall
of my cunt. With a flick he switches it
on to a low speed and I grit my teeth, sweat trickling between my swaying
breasts as I tense every muscle trying to keep still. But the speed gradually increases and the tip
of the attachment presses and buzzes against my g-spot and in seconds I’m
screaming and stumbling forwards, onto my hands and knees, clawing at the floor
and gasping as my body jerks helplessly and juice sprays from my cunt.
Abruptly he switches it off
and I slump, my head on my arms, my arse up in the air, breathing
raggedly. He presses the tip of the crop
against the sole of my foot and with a flick of his wrist cuts across the
tender flesh.
CRACK!
Then he presses the crop
against my other foot and I moan and curl my toes.
CRACK! CRACK!
Tears spill onto my cheeks
in a great hiccupping sob and I look up, seeing him standing over me, waiting
with his arms folded again. Slowly I
stand, putting my feet down gingerly and stretching my arms out behind me once
more. He places the crop on my arms.
The next attachment is about
nine inches long, its tip narrow but widening into a series of rounded bulges,
the base as fat as an apple. I bite my
lip as he walks behind me, trickling some of the lube down the crack of my
arse. The first couple of bulges slip in
easily with soft little pops. As they
get bigger I have to press down, making little moaning gasps as they stretch my
arse wider. He rotates them inside me
and I whimper, yelping as he thrusts three in at once until only the final,
biggest one remains. He trickles some
more lube onto it and I close my eyes, breathing deeply, thighs shuddering, the
crop rocking on my shaking arms. My eyes
open wide with shock and I yell as it’s forced into me and the power switched
on to a low hum. It’s torment, every
nerve ending in my bowels feels stimulated and cramped and crazy and on
fire. He turns the speed up and I begin
to shudder uncontrollably all over, the crop jiggling and dancing on my
arms. Slowly he draws it out of my arse,
making me groan as each bulge squeezes and pops out until only the tip
remains. The hum rises to a screech as
he switches it to full power and I howl as, with a savage lunge he thrusts it
all the way into my arse, fucking it in and out brutally hard.
The crop falls instantly and
I sprawl on my belly on the floor, weeping and screaming and drumming my feet
and fists as I squirm and writhe and gasp. He yanks it out of me, tosses it aside and hauls me up by my hair onto
my knees. Bending over me and breathing
hard he slaps my cheek twice, turning it pink, then he pinches the tip of my
tongue, stretching it out and places the tip of the riding crop on it. I gaze up at him with silent, panic stricken,
pleading eyes as he gently taps the crop against my tongue. My mouth is dry and my tits heave and shudder
as I pant.
CRACK!
The crop smacks down on my
tongue and it feel like fire, my mouth is open in a silent scream but I’m too
breathless and shocked and in pain to make any noise. I fall forwards, sliding my hand round the
back of his calf, pressing my lips to his toes, sobbing quietly.
He pulls away from me,
unplugs the device, begins to dismantle it and put it in its case. He picks up my clothes and throws them at me,
I don’t understand.
“You’ve failed, get dressed
and get out.”
“But…but I did everything
you asked…”
“You dropped the crop three
times.”
I hug my clothes miserably,
my lips trembling as I whisper, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I did my best. Please don’t throw me out, please, please let
me stay. Give me another chance, let me
show you I can be good, I can be obedient. Please?”
He’s watching me, weighing
me up, deciding…
I shiver as a persistent drizzle starts to fall on my naked flesh, plastering my hair to my face. The ground beneath me begins to turn muddy as I squirm, trying to ease the ache in my limbs that hours of being staked out on this wasteland has caused. The rain grows heavier and begins to blur the words written on my belly in eyeliner. ‘USE ME’. So far three men walking their dogs, a jogger and a gang of schoolboys on their way home from football practice have all followed this instruction. Their spunk drips from my bruised cunt and sloshes about in my belly. It’s growing dark now and I wonder where he is, whether he’s ever coming back for me, whether I’ve passed…
With a screech of feedback
the microphone is switched on and the harsh voice echoes around the room.
“This is taking too long. Get the bitch to talk.”
I screw my eyes up, blinking in the
blinding, flickering strip lighting as the blindfold is yanked off. Through the glare I get a dim impression of a
high -ceilinged, tiled room and the outlines of anonymous figures gazing down
from observation windows set high in the walls. I twist my aching body on the cold steel
frame, turning my head from side to side, searching for the figure of the man
who is constantly just out of sight, behind me, glimpsed only from the corner
of my eye.
I can hear his brisk footsteps reverberating
off the walls, the sudden clatter of a trolley which makes me jump, the slow,
piercing scrape of something heavy being dragged across the concrete floor,
which makes me shiver. In the chill of
the room my cunt juice dries on my bruised and swollen folds, leaving them
sticky, the scent of my cunt filling the room. My heart thuds against my ribs and I feel its
racing, pounding beat in my aching nipples, in the scarlet stripes of the whip
across my fluttering belly, singing in my ears.
I bite my lip and think of the man who gave
me the secret I’m keeping. I remember
the last night I spent with him, in that seedy hotel with the slowly flashing
neon sign outside the window, flooding the room with its dim red glow as I
bobbed my head in time with its blinking, pressing my lips tightly round the
thick shaft of his cock as he fed it deep into my throat, making it bulge,
making me choke and splutter and groan as I dug my fingernails into his thighs,
tugging him towards me. With my eyes
shut I am lost for a few moments, back in that room kneeling on the bed with my
face buried in a pillow, whimpering as he spat on my tight, puckered arsehole,
pressing the head of his monstrous cock against it, making me scream and jerk
in his grip. I remember looking back over
my shoulder with wide, frightened eyes and watching him spit into the palm of
his hand, rubbing it up and down his trembling cock before pressing it back
against my arsehole and firmly shoving the head of his cock inside me. I gasped and moaned softly, wriggling my hips
as I tried vainly to ease the stinging discomfort of his cock splitting me open
wider than ever before. Slowly,
inexorably, he screwed his cock deep into my arse, ignoring my whimpers and
mumbled pleas, my sobbing and struggling, impaling me helplessly on his
wonderful, brutal cock until I felt dizzy and faint with lust.
I squeak and jump with shock when I feel the
interrogator’s hand on my wrist, unlocking my cuffs, letting me rub my bruised
and aching wrists for a moment. I slowly
curl up into a sitting position, my hands rubbing life back into my stiff and
frozen feet. Finally I turn my head to
look at my tormentor…but as I turn the hood is bundled over my head. It is tight and soft, made of shiny latex and
moulded over my head. It covers my eyes and nose, leaving only my nostrils
free. My lips and chin are the only part
of my face left exposed – even my neck is tightly encased in latex, buckled so
tightly that I gasp, breathing shallowly and fast in my rising panic.
Roughly I’m yanked to my feet, the frame
kicked away, screeching across the floor and crashing into the wall. My legs
tremble violently beneath me; I want to drop to my knees and kiss his feet,
begging him to stop, not to do whatever it is he’s about to do. I flush with shame as I remember kissing my
lover’s feet, sprawled on the cheap carpet of the hotel room with his spunk
still dripping down my chin as I kissed and sucked his toes, blissful with
gratitude. My arms are tugged behind me
and the cuffs re-applied. For a moment I
can’t place the rattling, clattering sound that fills the room but then the
chain is clipped to the cuffs and hauled up, over the pulley, until my arms are
stretched, straight behind my back, painfully bearing my weight. I’m bent at the waist, my head hanging down,
my toes scrabbling against the cold tile for a foothold as I rotate slowly,
whimpering with fear and dying to pee.
The heavy thing I heard dragged across the
room before is pulled closer until it’s behind me. I can feel its ominous presence like a weight
crushing me and I start to shiver and cry helplessly. I want to give in, I want to beg for my life,
yell out the secret, plead to be set free. But I know. I know that my secret is the only thing
keeping me alive, the only thing keeping my torturers from tossing me naked
into the barrack room to amuse the guards until they’ve broken me. I picture my
splayed body, naked and white in the moonlight, caked in the dried spunk of a
hundred men, my sightless eyes staring, terrified, into the darkness. Then I think of lying splayed on the bathroom
floor, my lover standing over me, shaking the last drops of cum onto my
up-turned, eager face as I stretched my tongue out to catch them. Licking my lips and purring as his salty spunk
trickled down into my belly. I think of
running my hand up the inside of his thigh until it gently cups his balls, soft
now and heavy in my hand. I smile to
myself as I imagine them slowly filling again with hot creamy spunk, tightening
and sending his cum bursting out over my face and tits and belly, into my
sloppy cunt, up my tight arse, plastering my hair to my face, trickling down my
thighs.
Something hard and slightly warm is pressed
to my lips and I shudder, trying to draw back. But he has my chin cupped in his hand and he
forces the thing between my lips. It’s
stiff and unyielding, with a slightly soft surface, like an engorged cock but
not like that. Like a dildo, making my
cheeks bulge as he stuffs it into my mouth, holding my head still while I gag,
saliva dripping from my contorted lips as he drills it into my throat. Then suddenly he pulls it out, waiting for me
to finish coughing, a trail of saliva hanging for a second between my bottom
lip and the tip of the dildo before dropping onto my swaying tits.
Bending close to my ear he hisses, “That’s
the first.”
Now he presses a different dildo to my lips.
It feels different straight away but it
takes me a few seconds to realise that this dildo is vast. My jaw can barely open wide enough to take it,
my lips are stretched to splitting. I
breathe furiously in short, frantic pants through my nose as he shoves it
deeper. I can feel something tickling my
lips. I don’t understand. But then, as he suddenly thrusts it in another
inch, the soft rubber spikes bend and slip past my lips and I realise that this
dildo is cruelly covered in ridges and nodules and spikes. As I hang by my aching arms, twirling
miserably from the end of my chains, the dildo protruding obscenely from my
lips, tears trickle from beneath my mask and streak my cheeks and he bends
close and hisses, “That’s the last. You
have no way of knowing how many lie between the first and the last. All you need to know is that I’m going to
enjoy watching you take each one. And
only one thing can make it stop…”
Furious, red in the face, I shake my head,
spitting the dildo out onto the floor at my feet. His hand cracks across my cheek, and I scream
as I feel its sting. Then quickly,
almost before I can think straight again, he slides the tip of a dildo inside
my cunt – I blush shamefully at how wet it is – a drizzle of lube sprayed into
my arsehole is followed by the tip of another dildo. Then, as he flicks the switch, with a low hum
the dildos began firmly to thrust alternately into my cunt and arse. I writhe, groaning, my feet losing contact
with the floor, impaled on the pounding piston that rams them into me, hard and
thick and wonderful. For a few moments
I’m able to imagine my lover is safe with me, fucking me powerfully, tormenting
me with my vibrator, pumping his cock harder and faster while I moan out my
thanks to him. Slowly the pitch of the
machine increases, the pistons thrust faster, until it’s a high-pitched whine
and the whole equipment vibrates alarmingly, sending powerful vibrations through
my whole body as I jerk and twitch helplessly, sobbing and suddenly screaming
and cumming over and over, juices dripping from my cunt into a puddle on the
floor.
With a sudden ‘click’ he switches it off and
my body slumps, trembling as he slides the dildos from my gaping holes,
replacing them with the next size up, pressing their swollen heads back inside
my quaking body. As the devilish machine
starts up again and I whimper at the extra length and thickness stretching me
wider and deeper than before, he trails the tip of one of the discarded dildos
across my lips, smearing them with cunt juices before thrusting it in, making
me suck clean first one then the other. My
screams and cries fill the room, echoing from one tiled wall to another until
they merge into one long scream of lust and panic and need and fear. I desperately try to fill my head with
comforting thoughts – my lover slowly soaping my breasts in the bath, oiling my
skin, kissing my fingers as he draws them from my pussy – but all I can feel is
the relentless fucking, all I can hear is my screams mingling with the screams
of the machinery, all I can think of is the dark figures watching me from the
window above, coolly waiting for me to break.
Sweat-drenched and limp, terrified and wracked
with orgasm after orgasm, I howl wretchedly as yet another dildo – I’ve lost
count, the fifth, sixth? – slams into my tortured body, probing the neck of my
womb, stretching my bowels. I start to
cum instantly, in such a frenzy of orgasm now that the lightest touch, the
slightest brush against my fevered body sends me into explosions of sensation,
my mouth open in a silent scream, my body jerking in mid-air.
As yet another wave of orgasm begins to rise
deep inside me the microphone booms back on.
“The cunt’s starting to enjoy it, we won’t get her to talk like this. Switch it all off, let her down. It’s time to move on to the next stage…”
The inside of the box is
rough, splintered wood that chafes and scratches my knees and my neck and I
shift, aching and stiff as I ease my thighs apart and slip two fingers into my
sloppy slit. Cold spunk drips out,
trickling down my arm to my elbow as I frig myself urgently, my clit throbbing
and my heart pounding as I pant. I lick my bruised lips, fluttering my eyelids,
trying to free my eyelashes that are gummed together by spunk, my eyes
bloodshot as tears streak my cheeks with mascara. My hair is plastered to my face in tendrils
and more spunk dries it stiff. I place
one hand flat on my belly, feeling it rounded and full with the strangers’
spunk, sliding a third finger into my hot cunt, my little finger slipping
easily into my dripping, gaping arsehole.
As the red light of the camera blinks at me
the men circle me warily, some smoking and swigging from bottles, others
holding their cocks, rubbing them slowly as they stiffen ready for the next
assault. From behind, I hear the box
unbolted and its sides fall away with a clatter, my neck still trapped in one
panel. Swiftly, chains are hooked to the
four corners and with a rattle they’re hauled over their pulleys and I’m yanked
up into the air, my feet kicking wildly, choking as my head’s tipped back. I
grip the sides of the panel with white knuckles, flushed with shame at the
men’s laughter.
I peer over the edge of the panel, straining
to see what’s causing the deafening buzzing noise that floods the room. Light glints off it and I squeal as it’s
lifted so I can see it – a heavy power tool with a serrated blade that flashes
up and down with a force that sends vibrations through the whole room. From the corner of my eye I glimpse a second
power tool, a drill this time with a bit that spins so fast it’s a blur. The men’s laughter grows darker, frightening
and I tremble in terror and whimper as a trickle of pee drips down the inside
of my thigh.
But suddenly the buzzing stops, though still
ringing in my ears as a dildo is attached to each tool, sliding firmly over the
blade and the drill, each one nine, maybe ten inches long and as thick as my
arm, dripping and glistening with lubricant. I moan softly as anonymous fingers reach
between my sticky cunt lips, parting them and sliding the head of the tool
inside me. Another finger forces inside
my arsehole, drawing out only to be replaced by the second tool. For a second, the room is silent and still,
the atmosphere thick with anticipation, a bead of sweat trickles down my brow
and stings my eye and I whisper, “Please, oh please…”
Screaming and jack-knifing in the air, my
legs kicking wildly, my whole body thrumming and shuddering, I twist and jerk
helplessly, one dildo pounding my pulpy cunt, the other drilling into my
stinging arse. My squeals fill the room,
echoing off the tiled walls, almost drowning out the mechanical buzz and
whooping jeers of the men. One tips his
bottle into my open mouth, pouring burning vodka down my throat as I splutter
and gag. Others slap at my bouncing tits
and jiggling buttocks, one spits in my face, but I don’t care, all my pain and
humiliation is forgotten on an overwhelming tide of ceaseless orgasm.
Slowly I’m lowered until I’m crouching on
the floor, the buzz saw thrusting up into my cunt, the drill angled into my
arse. The board is unlocked from my
neck, it’s not needed anymore; I’m helpless with weakness and lust, gazing up
at the crowd of men with my eyes and mouth perfect circles of longing and
agony. My interrogator steps forward,
his thick cock in his hand, staring down at my trembling body. He touches my neck lightly, running his
fingertips along the red mark that circles it and I moan and close my eyes,
white flashes of light behind my eyelids as my body shudders with orgasm yet
again.
My eyes snap open again with shock as
something warm and wet shoots into my face and I jerk my head away sharply from
the stream of hot yellow piss that he sprays liberally all over me, washing
away the dried spunk before pinching my nose and shaking the last drops into my
gasping mouth.
Then standing aside, still pinching my nose
tightly, he invites the next man forward. I gag and cough, desperately trying
to spit out as much as I can, letting it spill over the corners of my open
mouth, but I can feel it trickling warmly down my throat until my belly’s
distended and uncomfortable. As the last
man wipes his cock clean in my hair I sprawl forward onto the cold tiles, both
dildos slipping from my tortured holes, a bubble of spit at my half-open mouth
as I weakly cough up the last few drops of piss.
As I lie there an image flashes though my
head – the man who gave me the secret I keep, laughing indulgently as I wrap my
arms and legs around him, begging for one more orgasm. “Just let me cum again, then I promise we can
go to sleep. Just one more, a little one, please…” I want to touch my clit,
even after cumming so often I couldn’t count, barely finishing one before
another started, even after all that I still want to touch my clit and cum one
more time. I think of him rolling on top
of me, his tongue forcing into my mouth as he crushes me, his fingertips lazily
circling my twitching, painfully tender clit, pinching it and making me squeal
into his mouth as I suck on his tongue. Slowly,
surreptitiously, I slide my hand under my belly…
The
voice on the microphone crackles into life and I jump. “Jesus Christ, this fucking slut! What’s it
going to take to break her?
Alone in the room, the only
light comes from the flickering images on the screen that play across my body. A terrified girl, frail and wide eyed,
struggling frantically in a tank of water, her wrists tied behind her back,
legs kicking wildly as she strains her head up out of the rising water,
desperately sucking on a huge, swollen cock that’s being dangled over the edge
by a man dressed in black, his face obscured by a mask. As she flails her legs I see the ring that
pierces her clit and the chain that’s stretched taut and bolted to the floor of
the tank. It tugs harder on her clit as
the water gets higher, her nostrils just above the surface now, she’s
spluttering and choking as the water seeps into her mouth. She sucks harder, pressing her lips tightly
round his cock, her eyes silently pleading…
The door clangs open and he’s back. He unties my ankles from the spreader bar and
lashes a rope around one of them, tossing it over the ceiling shackles and
hauling my leg up until my toes are pointing at the ceiling, the toes of my
other foot scrabbling for a foothold on the floor as I revolve slowly,
struggling and gasping. I flinch and
whimper as he snaps the whip through the air. Attached to its thick handle, a
bundle of leather thongs, knotted at the tip, swish and crack. Teasingly he brushes them across my exposed
cunt and I shudder. Pin pricks of pain
bite into my soft flesh as he flicks the whip up into my cunt. I scream and jerk, twisting my body in agony
as the thongs snake between my parted pussy lips and snap into the tender skin
inside my cunt. Juice drips onto the floor at my feet as the
whip stings my clit, mercilessly cutting into it over and over again. Panting he steps back and circles me, swishing
the whip menacingly, flicking it cruelly against the hollows of my thighs, my
rounded belly, my jiggling buttocks. Carefully,
he pinches one nipple between his finger and thumb, stretching it out and
lifting my breast before flicking the whip with a snap onto its underside, making
me squeal as it pinkens. He lets go and
my breast flops heavily back onto my ribcage, shuddering as I breathe raggedly.
He pinches my other nipple and does the
same to my other breast.
And then he’s gone, and the film changes. A different girl kneels trembling on the
floor, staring up through bewildered blue eyes at the camera. A rough male hand enters the shot and thrusts
fingers into her mouth, pinching her tongue and stretching it out. The other hand enters shot, holding a thick
candle, wafting it near her face as she winces, its pool of molten wax
trembling as it moves. He holds it still
above her outstretched tongue for a second then, with the merest tilt of his
wrist, he dribbles the hot wax onto her tongue, holding it tight as she screws
her face up and screams. The camera
pulls back suddenly and the girl is hauled up by her splayed ankles, writhing
as she hangs helplessly, her hair and fingertips just brushing the floor, her
tits swaying. He forces the thick candle
deep into her cunt and she flinches and squeals as a drop of hot wax drips onto
her pussy. Her face is red with effort
as she steadies herself, barely breathing as she tries to keep still. He slaps her arse hard and hot wax showers her
body, dripping onto her cunt and into the crease of her buttocks, trickling
down her belly and spraying her tits. As
the wax hits her body she jerks again, reflexively, sending more showers of wax
over her flesh. She sobs hopelessly, her
body shuddering again with every wracking sob, and the candle burns steadily
lower. He leans into shot, a cigarette
between his lips, and lights it on the flame that flickers dangerously close to
her cunt.
He unties the ropes that suspend me and I
drop heavily to the floor, rubbing my aching limbs as I watch him lower a
scaffolding bar from the ceiling. He
bends me over it, my ankles locked into the spreader bar again, my wrists tied
to my ankles. He gives me a little shove
and I swing. As I swing back, I meet the
force of his leather paddle, smacking against my arse. I scream and swing erratically, each time I
swing back getting another hard swat that makes me squeal and struggle and sob.
My flesh is throbbing, on fire and the
bar grows slick and slippery with my juices. He unties me and I sigh, thinking it’s over
but he turns me round and ties my wrists to the bar, my head tipped back over
it. A rope around my waist it tossed
over a ceiling pulley and hauled up until my back is arched painfully, only my
toes on the floor. I watch upside down
as he draws out a long, thin, whippy cane, presses it to my lips, sliding it
along them, letting me feel its knots and ridges, its frayed tip. Swift, sharp, agile flicks of his wrist bring
it cracking down on my tits, my belly, my thighs and I scream with each blow, hardly
able to catch my breath. He taps it
sharply against the soles of my feet, my cheek, my nipples. Squirming and moaning, I feel its frayed
splinters rub against my straining clit and my belly twitches, so close to
cumming. As it smacks firmly and repeatedly
against my clit I howl miserably, blind with tears.
He cuts me loose and I slump, wrists still
tied to the bar, whimpering as I sit on the cold, hard floor. I’m alone in the dark for a moment before the
film starts up again. This time it’s me,
I’m the girl in the film. I watch in
horror my trembling lips and contorted, screaming face, my writhing body and
the slashes of red being applied to my soft flesh. I moan and stir, rubbing my thighs together as
I watch myself bent backwards over the bar, his stiff cock only inches from my
screaming mouth. How I wish he’d bent forwards and shoved it into my mouth, let
me suck and lick and gag on it, taking it deep into my tight throat until his
balls pressed against my nose, smothering me. I wriggle my wrists in their ropes, hoping to
twist them free, longing to plunge my fingers into my cunt.
My lips
are dry and cracked and I can barely speak, my voice a hoarse whisper. I have no idea how long I’ve been in this
terrible place, I only know that every nerve in my body is screaming to cum. I raise my tear-filled eyes to the faceless
men at the high window, my lips moving for a moment before I can speak. “I’ll tell you. Please, I’ll do anything you want.”
Standing in the bathroom, dripping from the
shower, I lean heavily against the edge of the sink and stare at my naked body
in the mirror. My legs tremble and I
lean forward to swipe the condensation off the glass. My pussy lips are pink and tender from the
cattle prod and I brush them gently with my fingertips, shivering at the memory
of the shuddering, crackling, burning jolts of electricity that froze my
twisted body into a rictus of shock and pain, my eyes wide and pleading, my
mouth open in a silent scream. Sliding
my hands up over my belly I cup my tits, stroking and squeezing them as I
remember the blue crackle of sparks fizzing across my drenched skin. I press my swollen pussy against the edge of
the sink, closing my eyes and sighing as its coldness soothes my throbbing
flesh and I begin to pinch and tease and flick my nipples with my
fingernails.
The bang of a door downstairs brings me to
my senses with a start and I scurry onto the landing, peering nervously down
into the hall, my heart racing. The rope
tied to the banister is thick and fibrous and the knots are like fists. I’m intrigued and I slowly venture onto the
top step, sitting down and hugging my knees, listening for him. The house is silent. I take another couple of steps down, leaning
over the banister to look for him. I can
see the rope stretch all the way down the long, tiled passage into the
kitchen. Reaching the bottom of the
stairs, I put out a hand to touch it, feeling its hairy roughness against the
palm of my hand, circling it with my fingers and sliding them up and down from
one knot to the next, lost in a reverie.
I squeal as the nettles whisk across my
buttocks and I spin round, losing my balance and stumbling back against the
banisters, gripping the swaying rope with one hand. He’s laughing at me as I squirm, hot, stinging
prickles making my flesh swell and throb. He takes my hand delicately in his, like a gentleman handing a lady down
from a carriage, and steadies me as I swing one leg over the taut rope. It snaps up between my legs, forcing me onto
tiptoes as I grip it in my fists, slowly teetering forwards.
I moan softly as it slides between my pussy
lips, dragging against the tip of my clit and I can feel it soften and dampen
as I soak it in my juices. I come to the
first knot and it’s like rough knuckles grinding against my clit as I gasp and
try to force my way past it, hands on each wall of the passage for purchase
while I shuffle forwards. With a sigh of
relief it slips past my clit and jams itself into my cunt, my pussy stretched
around it. Oh, but no, no, no!!! Oh god, the burning heat! It’s agony and I can’t escape it! Every way I twist or wriggle just scrapes the
knot deeper into my flesh until I’m on fire and panting desperately.
SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!
I scream as the nettles cut across my
buttocks, arching my back and shuffling forwards again. Slowly the knot slides with a loud slurp from
my sopping cunt and digs into the crack of my arse, smearing my tight, puckered
arsehole with a mixture of cunt juice and burning irritant. I struggle forward, my tits bouncing as I
tiptoe and shuffle, the muscles of my legs aching, my buttocks jiggling and
glowing deep pink, a trickle of sweat on my brow. Despairingly I look down the corridor again
and see twenty, maybe thirty knots from here to the kitchen cupboard. Tears well in my eyes.
At the third knot I lean forward, gripping
the rope tightly and laying my cheek against it as I sway and teeter, gently
rubbing the rope back and forth against my throbbing clit. I long to touch it and release some of the
pent-up, burning tension but I dare not for fear of failing the test.
SWISH! SWISH!
Two quick whisks of the nettles against the
undersides of my swaying tits make me squeal and start up again, groaning over
the next knot.
A third of the way down the corridor I
stumble, snatching at the rope as I fall and swinging underneath it, my arms
and legs wrapped around it for a second before my hands slip and I thud heavily
to the floor, banging my head. The
corridor sways around me and I see his dark outline standing over me for a
moment before I lose consciousness. I
wake to the cattle prod, jabbed sharply into my belly and I double up
screaming, hugging my belly as I writhe on the floor, my throat dry and
retching, my skin wet with cold sweat. He waves the prod tantalisingly near and I try to scramble to my feet,
reaching blindly for the rope, trying to climb back on. He grabs a fistful of my hair and drags me
back to the end of the corridor and when I realise I have to start again I cry
deep hiccupping sobs.
Faster this time, any delay earns me a cut
with the nettles – on my arse, my thighs, my belly, my tits. My skin is pink and flushed and
throbbing. Each knot seems bigger and
rougher and more burning than the last. My cunt is swollen and dripping juice onto the tiles, making them
slippery – several times I slip and have to grip onto the rope to stop from
falling again. But I can see the key
now, glinting on the top of the cupboard and, with aching, trembling limbs, I drag
myself further along the rope, whimpering as I grow more desperate to cum,
tears streaking my cheeks as I stretch up to the top of the cupboard, my
fingers closing on the key…
SWISH! SWISH! SWISH! SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!
Fast, hard cuts across my nipples make me
scream and crash to the kitchen floor, the key slipping from my fingers and
skidding across the floor, tantalisingly just out of reach. He puts his booted foot firmly on the key as
I scrabble for it and I let out a despairing cry at the unfairness of it! I lie sprawled at his feet, whipped and
tortured and aroused, my thighs glistening with cunt juice, my cheeks with
tears and I look sulkily up at him. I
know what will win me my key and I hate it. I hate him and I hate myself for needing it so badly. Slowly I roll onto my back at his feet,
lifting one foot and hooking my ankle over the rope then lifting the other and
bracing it against the cupboard, my thighs and cunt wide open for him. I slide my fingers into my cunt, holding it
open and I lick my lips.
Kneeling, he bunches his fist tightly around
the nettles, their tips brushing and stinging the inside of my cunt lips. Then he draws his hand back slightly and rams
them into my cunt, pressing them in deep while I scream and scream and scream,
my whole body jack-knifed in howling orgasm. It goes on and on as I writhe helplessly on the floor, weeping and
moaning as I roll onto my tummy. Carefully, he slides the tip of the cattle prod just inside my arsehole
and I freeze, my thudding heart filling the room. He makes me wait. Finally I can stand no more and looking over
my shoulder, my lips trembling as I speak, I whisper through cracked lips,
“Please…”
It’s
like a knife. The stab of pain and
horror that courses through my body lifts me off the floor, my hair standing on
end, my eyes bulging as I wail and thrash. He switches it off and I slam back down against the floor. Then on again, another jerk of agony and
shame. Then off, and crashing back onto
the cold, hard floor. I can’t tell the
difference anymore between screaming in ecstasy as I cum and screaming in fear
and agony as he toys with me. The last
thing I’m conscious of is my fingers touching the key, closing around it
tightly as he jams the probe deeper into my arse.
Suspended by my ankles in the darkened room,
swaying gently, my fingertips brushing the floor, I whimper as the first candle
slides into my sopping slit. It is long
and narrow, its tapering tip peeking out from between my swollen cunt lips as
it sinks nine inches deep inside me. Another is slipped in beside it, then another and another, six in total,
gradually stretching my cunt wider.
Upside down, my eyes dart nervously around
the flat. They’ve lifted the red head up
by her wrists and ankles, held waist high, her thighs spread as the men line
up, stepping over the mark to fire the guns inches from her cunt, snapping her
clit painfully every time while she squeals and thrashes in mid air, her long
hair dancing in the candlelight as she struggles. At an angle, through the door into the hall I
can see the blonde, coughing and spluttering as a group of men stand around her
head, passing a bottle between them and drinking deep draughts from it as they
piss into her open mouth. One flicks his
cigarette butt at her belly and she flinches and moans while another drains the
bottle and starts to work it up her cunt, twisting it as he thrusts it brutally
deeper.
With a click and a fizz the cigarette
lighter springs to life and I can feel its heat as it passes between my thighs,
lighting each candle in turn. An extra
couple of candles are lit from the shuddering flames and jabbed into my
arsehole. My breathing is shallow and
fast as I struggle not to move, my eyes filling with tears, blurring the shapes
of figures watching me.
SMACK!!!
A sharp crack across the buttocks sends
drops of hot wax showering across the tender skin of my thighs and I jerk and
writhe, sending another shower of drops across my buttocks and belly.
SMACK!!!
I squeal and struggle furiously as burning
wax trickles between the crack of my buttocks and spills onto my cunt lips.
SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!
I’m howling now, weeping hot tears as I jerk
helplessly, wax spraying the underside of my swaying tits, dripping in rivulets
across my belly, pooling in the hollows of my thighs and trickling between my
pussy lips deep into my cunt. Unseen
hands draw one of the candles from my cunt and spread my lips wide, exposing my
trembling clit. I gasp and bite my lip
as I feel the heat, close enough to singe the trimmed hair on my pussy. The first scalding drop falls on the very tip
of my clit and I scream and scream and scream, drops raining down ceaselessly
now, setting and encasing my clit in wax, constricting it as it throbs beneath,
desperate to cum but nipped too tightly.
My feet are cut down and I slump heavily to
the floor, trembling and whimpering. Rough hands haul me to my knees and yank my thighs apart until I’m
sitting back on my heels, cunt exposed and hands locked in the small of my
back. My hair is tugged sharply back,
tipping my head up to look at the shadowy outline of the man holding the
candle. I can see its flame guttering
and hot wax swelling at its tip as he angles it towards me, dripping the wax
first onto one nipple, then the other while I shriek and moan hopelessly.
The flame brushes close to my cheek and he
grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, dripping the wax onto my bottom
lip and letting it dribble down my chin while I weep silently. He forces his thumb into my mouth, opening it
wide and pinching the tip of my tongue. I wriggle, trying to pull away, eyes wide with panic, staring up at him,
pleading as the flame moves closer to my tongue and the hot globule of wax
trembles over it. Suddenly there’s a
commotion of shouting and argument and overturned furniture across the room and
everyone stops what they’re doing and turns to stare.
The Americans have the Irishman in a
headlock as he struggles and swears and swings at them. At his feet, the replacement girl lies
lifeless, her glassy eyes staring at nothing. Some of the other girls rush over with a bedspread, covering her and
carrying her from the room. The
Irishman’s roaring now, “I was promised a whore who could take a fisting and
you give me one who says no and another who snaps in two! I want my money’s worth or by Jesus there’ll
be trouble!”
With a snap of the fingers a rope is brought
and tied tightly round my wrists. It’s
tossed up over a ceiling pulley and I’m hauled to my feet until I’m balanced on
the very tips of my toes, bent at the waist with my hair falling over my face
and my arms extended stiffly behind my back. I whimper as I listen to the wet slap of his skin as he oils his hand
and forearm up to his elbow, slipping two fingers inside my cunt, hooking it
and pulling me up even higher onto my toes.
My cunt squelches and slurps up his fingers
as they fuck roughly into me in sharp little stabs, a third finger sliding in
alongside them, his little finger piercing my arsehole. He spreads his fingers inside me and juice
drips from my gaping cunt as he slides four fingers in, his hand slapping and
jiggling my buttocks as he thrusts. I
start to gasp and writhe, groaning and sobbing as his thumb slides between my
lips and he forces the widest part of his hand inside me until my agonised cunt
lips close around his wrist.
White with shock and trembling all over I
scream as his hand inside me slowly curls into a fist, ramming deeper until his
knuckles scrape the edge of my womb and his arm is buried almost to his
elbow. Painfully slowly he draws it back,
stretching my cunt wide again until his fist sits lodged just inside it. He makes me wait. Then, with a grunt he brutally punches his
fist deep into my cunt and I wail, losing my footing and swinging, my legs
kicking wildly as he punches into my cunt over and over, grunting and sweating
with his exertions.
“Steady her!” he cries and one of the
Americans grabs my hair, jerking my head up and locking it between his hands as
he feeds his cock down my screaming throat. Each punch drives me deeper onto his cock and I choke, saliva dripping
from my lips until the American slaps my face hard and hisses, “Suck,
bitch!” Weakly, I press my lips to his
cock, sucking and lapping at his shaft as he fucks it into my throat, shooting
his spunk into my eyes and my nose, leaving me gasping and spluttering as he
pulls out, to be instantly replaced by the next in line.
This one pinches my nose tightly as he fills
my throat and my face flushes as I struggle to breathe, tits heaving as I gasp
and panic. More oil is being poured
between my buttocks and I flinch as the Irishman thrusts a couple of fingers
in, rotating and twisting them inside me as he opens me up. Finally the American lets go of my nose and I
gulp down air just as he sprays his spunk across my face and into my hair,
plastering it to my cheeks. As I recoil
from the shock, the Irishman stabs four fingers into my arsehole and I scream,
terrified as he laughs crudely at me.
The last of the Americans slaps my face with
his cock, pressing his balls to my trembling lips, forcing me to lap and suck
them then trail my tongue along the length of his shaft before he forces it
into my mouth, making my cheek bulge as he rubs its head against the inside of
my mouth. I groan into his cock as I
feel my arse open up to take the Irishman’s hand, a fist already, drilling into
me until I’m completely impaled, my feet lifted right off the ground.
The room spins around me and I’m dizzy with
pain and spunk and humiliation. I see a
blur of red beneath me and I realise the red head has crawled beneath me, her
hands on my thighs as she licks delicately at my clit, her tenderness in cruel
contrast to the savage thrusts of fists and cock in every orifice. Suddenly I’m screaming into the plunging
cock, not in pain and horror but screaming with ecstasy, cumming so hard,
harder than I’ve ever cum before, brutalised and tortured and thrashing wildly,
eyelashes fluttering as my eyes roll back in their sockets, my cunt and arse
clenching tightly, rhythmically against the Irishman’s wrists, my throat
spasming against the American’s cock as I choke and gag and cum screaming with
pure joy. This is why I wanted so badly
to come to the party!
The stage darkens to a
spotlight illuminating a table with a chair on either side. Naked and with trembling limbs we sit on
either side of the board, unhappily surveying the chess pieces. Each one is represented by a sex toy – one
set black, the other red. Only the pawns
have a human scale – thick, six-inch vibrators that glisten with lubricant in the
blinding light. Every other piece is
bigger – from fat, bulbous anal plugs for rooks, through curved g-spot vibes
for knights, and brutal bulbous-headed dildos for bishops. But it’s the kings and queens that are most
terrifying. The queens are at least 10
inches long and as thick as my arm with a frill of soft rubbery spikes around
their heads and the kings, oh, the kings are a massive 13 inches and so thick
that the fingers of both my hands can’t wrap all the way around them. They’re spiked all over and I shudder as I
listen numbly to the rules being explained to the audience. Every time we take a piece we must use it on
our opponent…
The audience stirs in the
dark, a sinister murmur of approval as they watch us struggling to play on, the
heat of the spotlight sending trickles of sweat into our eyes as we squirm,
impaled on furiously buzzing toys. My
cheeks bulge as my mouth is stuffed full of an anal plug, the other painfully
crammed into my arse. My cunt is
stretched almost to splitting around two huge dildos – one curved and drumming
against my g-spot, the other probing the neck of my womb. Through eyes blurred with tears I watch Eve
rocking violently in her chair, her screams muffled by the two ‘pawn’ vibrators
I jammed into her mouth early in the game, a curved vibe in her cunt, its tip
touching the tip of the curved vibe in her arse through the wall of her
distended bowel. The clock ticks
relentlessly on and I scan the board desperately, my queen chased from one side
to the other without any chance of breaking through. With trembling fingertips I reach out,
caressing its tip, breathing raggedly as I imagine it piercing my fragile body
and I blush with shame as my cunt throbs and leaks sticky juice onto my hard
wooden chair.
As I move my queen there’s a
hiss of breath from the audience and I realise I’ve stepped into a trap. With a neat pincer move, Eve takes my queen
and, drawing the dildos from her mouth she lets a slow smile spreading across
her face, leans forward and whispers, “Check mate!” My lips tremble out of shape as I struggle
not to sob, a single tear trickling down my cheek as I think about the whipping
I’ve earned. But before that
humiliation, Eve still has to finish her move. Deftly ridding herself of her toys, she pinches my earlobe between her
finger and thumb and hauls me over the table, sending the remaining pieces
scattering and rolling about the stage. She leaves the plug in my mouth but empties my holes, juice dripping
from my cunt into a puddle at my feet, my arsehole gaping open.
Eve takes the queen, rolling
its shaft between her hands, spitting on its tip, readying her weapon. I whimper as I feel its head pressed against
my swollen cunt, its spikes tickling my flesh and brushing against my clit. She slides her hands to its base, holding it
tense for a moment before lunging towards me, ramming it in with both hands,
her gasp of triumph mingling with my scream of terror. Again she shoves it, deeper this time, my
toes lifted up off the floor with its force, my legs kicking wildly as I howl,
twisting and writhing on it as she gives a shout and shoves it brutally all the
way in.
She yanks my head up by my
hair, holding the king before me to spit on it, sliding my tongue along its
monstrous length, its rubber spikes bending and springing back against my
cheek. With her fingers she forces my
jaw open, tugging out and discarding the plug and slowly screwing the tip of
the dildo between my lips in its place. My jaw aches so badly I think she’s going to dislocate it and I
struggle, panic-stricken as she pinches my nose, suffocating me as I try but
fail to swallow even the head of this brute.
As she walks round the table
to face the audience again she stoops to pick up one of the anal plugs,
gripping it in her fist like a mallet. Placing the tip of the king dildo against my still-gaping arse, she
swings her arm high in the air, pausing for a moment at full extension, her
sweat-drenched body glistening under the lights, her tits swaying as she swings
her arm down, hammering at the end of the dildo over and over again with her
improvised mallet, nailing it into my tortured arse while I scream
dementedly. As it lodges deeper she lets
go and uses both hands on her mallet to hammer faster, her tits bouncing and
slapping against her ribs, her hair plastered to her face, her eyes wild with
lust and fury. My struggles grow
feebler, my screams turn to grunts, my body jerks spasmodically with each
thrust, my limbs floppy. It isn’t
half-way in before I lose consciousness.
The snap of the whip on my
cunt rouses me and I groan, bleary and confused. As I try to reach back to rub my stinging
flesh I become aware of the restraints and suddenly I’m wide awake, my heart
pounding. I’m still centre stage, still
spot-lit, but now my head and hands are thrust into wooden stocks, my ankles
spread achingly wide and chained in place. I’m bent forwards at the waist and cruel clips, spring-loaded with
serrated edges, are clipped to my nipples and clit – ball weights swaying
heavily at the ends of their chains with every movement.
I can’t look behind me,
can’t see the whip as it falls, rhythmically, slicing across my swollen cunt
lips and making me squeal and writhe. I
can only see ahead of me the darkness of the stage wings and there, high on the
wall, a convex mirror, ostensibly giving a view of stage and wings but from
this angle reflecting the terrifying machine that stands behind me, its pistons
pumping the wheel that bears the whips that thrash, ceaselessly, never missing,
never changing position, never tiring, falling endlessly on my poor punished
pussy. The mirror distorts my sobbing
face, the watching audience, my torturer – as he casually leans forwards and
flicks a switch, the machine rattling and buzzing up to full speed, the whips a
blur, my clit swelling and throbbing agonisingly as I feel my body slowly
tensing and teetering on the edge of screaming, uncontrollable, blissful
orgasm.
I couldn’t tell him the
truth. I couldn’t tell him how much
money my boyfriend owes to his dealer or the threats he’s left on my answer
phone. I have to get money, whatever it
takes, and I daren’t lose this job. I’m
desperate. I’d have done anything.
From the moment he caught me
my face was hot with shame, my voice trembling, my legs shaking as I
walked. I popped a button off my blouse
in my nervousness and tears stung my eyes as my tits pressed against the
drawing pins. For a moment I shuddered
as their sharp points pressed, prickling against my resistant flesh. Then I shrieked as, with his hand flat on my
spine between my shoulder blades, he smashed me against the desk, banging my
cheek sharply against its edge and driving the pins into my tits, impaling my
nipples, the slope of my tits, their heavy underswell.
Without giving me a second
to recover, he snatched a plastic ruler from the desk and smacked it against my
swollen cunt, making me squeal and squirm. Again and again, hard and fast and ruthless, he smacked and smacked it
until my pussy lips were puffy and deep pink and tender to touch. My squeals turned to heaving sobs and fat
tears rolled down my cheeks.
To shut me up he grabbed a
roll of parcel tape from the desk drawer, wrapping it around my mouth and the
back of my head – then carrying on wrapping it round and round, covering my
eyes and brow, my cheeks and chin. He
wound it tightly round my neck until only my nostrils were visible, flared wide
as I struggled to suck down air, my rib cage heaving as my panic rose.
I jumped as the first snip
of the scissors sliced into my skirt, slowly ripping up its crumpled fabric,
the sharp tip of the scissors scraping along my slit as it passed. With one final snip through the waistband he
tugged it away from me leaving me clad only in my stockings and boots.
Yanking me off the desk, he
threw me into an office chair – it spun and wheeled away across the floor under
the momentum. I quivered as I heard his
footsteps pad towards me across the soft carpet. Out in the middle of the office floor now,
away from the desk, blind and unsure what was around me, disorientated, I whimpered as he grabbed my wrists, winding
the rough, hairy parcel twine around them, pinioning them behind my back. He wound the twine around the soft crooks of
my elbows, pulling it taut and hauling my arms together, my back arching, my
tits thrust out and shuddering, still adorned with shiny drawing pins and tiny,
swelling beads of ruby red blood.
He cupped and lifted my
right breast, looping the twine around and around it, cupping my left breast
and winding again in a figure of eight, drawing it tighter as he wound until my
breasts were lifted by the twine alone, standing proud, stiff and pink and
swollen. Irritably, he flicked a drawing
pin from one nipple and I screamed as, with a metallic twang, a bulldog clip
snapped shut, pinching it brutally hard. Another couple of pins were idly brushed from my other nipple and I
began to scream even before the clip snapped shut. He pinched my nose and waited, watching me
struggle and pant, mumbling my urgent pleas through layers of tape and kicking
my legs weakly as I started to grow faint. Suddenly he let go and my body arched violently as I desperately sucked
in air, only managing a ragged sob as the clip snapped onto my nipple.
Tipping the chair back, he
hooked my legs over its arms, my feet swaying. Roughly he pinched my clit, tugging its hood up. For a second I felt the cold metal and then a
searing pain as the sharp pin of the hole-punch pierced my hood. My heart raced, my nerves tingling with
adrenaline and I rocked in the chair, screaming silently with shock. Calmly he licked his fingers clean of blood
and threaded the metal tip of a treasury tag through the new piercing, pulling
the string taut as he knotted the other end around the ring in my belly button until
the hood of my clit was pulled back, exposing the vulnerable clit beneath.
He snapped the bulldog clip
beside my ear a few times and I sobbed hopelessly as I heard the creak of its
fierce spring. It bit savagely into my
clit and I threw my head back, shuddering and weeping but unsure whether I was
on the brink of fainting from pain or from screaming orgasm. As I panted and writhed, he amused himself by
slowly, one by one, sliding marker pens into my sopping cunt, stretching it
gradually wider until it ached and I moaned as he jammed another pen in,
finally giving up in disgust and ramming the last few angrily into my
arsehole.
I flinched as I felt fingers
working away at the tape – the squeak of a marker pen on the tape that covered
my brow then a slow unpeeling of a single strip, uncovering my eyes, blinking
and squinting in the glare. Through my
tears I gazed at his blank face. Reaching into his pocket he took out his camera phone, lining it up and
taking a series of snaps, comparing them before choosing one with a faint
twitch of a cruel smile at he corners of his mouth. He turned his back to me, fiddling with his
computer. As he straightened up, turning
round to look at me again, I saw the picture – a desktop image on his computer
and every other computer in the office.
In the picture, my
terrified, watery eyes stared into the lens through my mask. My tits, the pins glinting in the light, were
flushed dark red, their nipples swollen and twisted by the cruel clips. Between my slick and glistening thighs, my
cunt and arse were comically distended by joyfully multicoloured pen tops. My clit was tugged and pinned and distorted
into a parody of erotic adornment. And
across my brow, the word written in marker pen was CUNT.
Tiring of me, he shrugged on
his coat, switching off lights and shoving my chair through the fire doors into
the stair well for someone to find tomorrow when they switched on their
computer and got their first clue to my fate.
In reception, the security
guards watched, transfixed, on the closed circuit camera as he descended the
stairs and stepped out into the car park. Then, arming themselves with torches and truncheons, they stepped into
the lift. Coming for me.
I stood in the middle of the
sitting room, shivering as he tugged my coat down over my shoulders, leaving me
naked beneath except for the silk scarf tied around my eyes, the shiny patent
leather knee boots with their spiked heels, glistening as they caught the
light, and of course the fine silver chain attached to my clit ring, jingling
as he yanked it and I stumbled forwards a few steps, reaching out blindly to
stop from falling, my hands landing on the warm, smooth wood of a chair back.
I blinked, squinting in the
unaccustomed light, as he whipped my blindfold off, and gradually took in the
transformed room. All its fittings and
furniture had been ripped out, the floorboards were bare and the windows were
nailed shut, the glass crudely daubed with black paint. Candles guttered smokily in the corners, dimly
illuminating the new furnishings of the room.
In its centre was a large,
wooden chair, with a high back and arm rests. Strategically-placed leather straps hung, unbuckled and its seat had
screw-thread holes. From the ceiling
dangled chains and manacles, a pulley and a hook. And against one wall stood a large glass
tank, empty and lidded, a padlock hanging open from its catch.
Bewildered, I slowly turned
around, gazing vacantly at this surprising change. I turned back to face him and he smiled
thinly at me for a second, stroking my cheek softly and kissing me on the lips
before drawing his hand back and slapping my face so hard it sent me spinning,
falling to my hands and knees and gasping as the pain flashed through my
cheekbone and jaw. As I knelt there
panting, a single drop of dark red blood dripped from my nose and splashed onto
the bare floor. I touched my fingertip
to my nose, bringing it away bloody and, gazing up at him, I slowly sucked my
finger clean.
He picked up an attaché case
from the floor, opening it and displaying its contents. Inside, packed in foam, sat a series of steel
dildos, the smallest at least 10 inches, the largest over 13 inches long. Some were smooth, others shaped. All ended with a screw thread and a plug in
their base. While I watched, he ran his
fingertips lightly along them, as if choosing, picking up a 12 inch dildo
shaped like a corkscrew and weighing it in his hand before screwing it into the
base of the chair. Working quickly, he
chose the largest dildo, bulging and ridged with a large, rounded head covered
in nodules, and he screwed that into place in front of the corkscrew.
He grabbed me by my hair and
hauled my face close to them. “Spit on
them, cunt!” My mouth was dry and I
swallowed hard, trying to gather enough spit to obey him. He tugged me up into a crouch and slapped my
face hard three times. “I said” CRACK
“spit on them” CRACK “CUNT!” CRACK!!! With fat tears rolling down my cheeks I spat feebly onto them, watching
it trickle down the cold steel and knowing it wasn’t enough.
Scooping me up, one hand
under my thigh, the other round my waist, he sat me on top of the dildos as I
squirmed and whimpered, shuddering as their cold metal slid an inch inside my
cunt and arse. I grabbed the arms of the
chair and braced my arms tightly, trying to keep myself from sliding down the
dildos but it was no good and as he let go of me I screamed as they began,
slowly and cruelly to split me open. Inch by agonising inch they forced their way into my soft flesh, their
hardness unforgiving as I writhed and gasped, pleading silently with wide,
frightened eyes as he watched me impassively.
I tried desperately to roll
my hips, easing the twisted dildo into my tight hot arsehole, my back rigid as
it skewered deep into my bowels. The
rounded head of the other dildo pressed against the neck of my womb, opening it
and lodging itself painfully inside me. Looking down at my smooth, rounded belly I could almost imagine I could
see it, pressing against my flesh. As
soon as my buttocks came to rest on the wooden seat, he swiftly secured me,
buckling the leather straps around my ankles and thighs, my wrists and upper
arms, finally around my neck, slowly pulling it tighter until I held my neck
high, my face pale, my tits heaving as I panted. Then he pulled it tighter one more notch and
bucked it, the cold buckle digging into my neck.
I watched from the corner of
my eye as he dragged a car battery across the floor, plugging a lead into the
mains and attaching jump leads to it. One jump lead split into two leads, each clamped to one of my
nipples. He sucked on them first,
dragging them out with his teeth and nibbling them while I squeaked and wriggled,
then with a SNAP! he let the clips spring shut, their serrated edges cutting
into my delicate skin. He roughly shoved
two fingers between my thighs, pinching my swollen clit and pulling on it then
with a SNAP! he attached the other jump lead. A second lead was plugged straight into the mains and then into the
bases of the two dildos.
He stood before me, cupping
my face and rubbing his thumb across my bruised cheek then pressing it between
my lips. For a moment I resisted him,
struggling to turn my face away. He
leaned very close to me, his eyes cold with anger, “I bought you. You’re my property. And now I’m going to play with you until you
break.” Trembling, I parted my lips and,
as his thumb slid into my mouth, I began to suck. Casually leaning across, he flicked the
switches of both power points and my body arched in a rictus of shock,
screaming uncontrollably as 240 volts of electricity began to pulse through my
body. The dildos buried in my body shot
pure electricity through every nerve ending, the chair rattling and rocking back
as I arched and flexed, my belly and thighs twitching, my tits bouncing and
slapping against my ribs as I screamed louder, my eyes frozen with terror. Juice dripped from my cunt as electricity
crackled through my clit, its pulses echoing and mocking the pulses of my
orgasm until I couldn’t tell whether I was screaming because I was cumming or
because I was in agony. My nipples
swelled, deep purple, engorged with blood and hot from the electrodes biting
into their flesh.
Suddenly he switched it off
and I slumped in my bonds, shaking and sobbing, my face streaked with mascara
and snot as I whimpered and trembled. Then I arched back into screaming agony as he switched it on again,
playing with me and stroking his quivering cock as he watched me.
Standing in the doorway of
his apartment, my legs tremble as I balance precariously on five inch stiletto
boots, their shiny black leather hugging the curve of my calves. I nervously twiddle the ends of my hair,
gazing around the room trying to see what’s different. I lick my dry lips, parting them slightly as
I breathe shallowly, anxiously. With a
squeal I start, jerked further into the room by the fine silver chain attached
to my clit ring. Now I can see the open
door into the dark room and I bite my lip, because now I know that’s where I’m
going.
The room has been stripped
to its bare floor boards; its windows nailed shut and crudely daubed with black
paint to shut out the light. A single
candle gutters and smokes, sending sinister shadows leaping across the walls
and ceiling. And in the centre of the
room is the cage.
The cage is small, less than
three feet square, and my knees buckle slightly as I step into it. Attached to its base is a terrifying dildo,
12 inches of black moulded rubber, as thick as my new owner’s arm and covered
with cruel rubber ridges and spikes. The
only way to fit inside the cage is to squat and the only way to squat is on
this brutal dildo. I squirm, rubbing my
cunt against its spiked tip, parting its lips with my fingers and struggling to
fit its head inside me but I’m not wet enough to take it. My owner slaps my face hard and my eyes
prickle with tears.
“Stupid cunt! Frig yourself if you’re not wet enough!”
As a fat tear trickles down
my cheek I slide two fingers on either side of my clit, rubbing and circling
and pinching it while I shut my eyes tight and imagine a gentle lover who’ll
undress me slowly, kissing every hidden part of my body – the crook of my neck,
the inside of my elbows, the back of my knees, my toes, my fingers, the hollows
of my thighs – before slowly, carefully, licking my clit to throbbing
stiffness, kissing and teasing it until I’m whimpering and pleading with him to
slide his cock into my hot, wet folds. My cunt trickles its juices onto the head of the dildo and slowly my
cunt opens to it until I can sit back a couple of inches, its fat head slipping
inside me and stretching me achingly wide open.
I sigh deeply, lifting my
gaze to my owner’s face. His hand shoots
out and grips my neck hard, choking me as he thrusts me down onto the dildo,
forcing it all the way into my cunt while I gag and try to scream, my face
flushed pink, my eyes wide with panic. My cunt feels ripped open, tender and throbbing, the rounded head of the
cock pressed hard against the neck of my womb, forcing it open, rubber spikes
invading it.
He lets go of my neck for a
second and I gasp and gulp down air, my lungs burning, panting hard as I see
him pull a gag from his back pocket. But
this isn’t like gags I’ve endured before. It has no cruelly wide ball, no rigid, rubber dildo to make my neck
bulge. It buckles around my head as I
expect but at my mouth he slides four metal hooks around my lips, forcing them
wide open, my jaw aching and as I blink away tears of humiliation a trickle of
saliva drips from the corner of my gaping mouth.
Balanced on the balls of my
feet, crouching and bent forward, my fingertips touching the floor of the cage,
I bend my head as he clangs the lid shut and secures it with a large
padlock. He reaches through the bars to
stroke my hair and even this tiny sign of affection makes my pussy throb. As he strokes my hair he gathers it into his
fist, suddenly jerking my head back sharply and knotting my long hair around
one of the bars in the cage’s lid, forcing my face against the bars in the
side, my open mouth pressed between them.
He rapes my throat, jamming
his quivering cock savagely into it, gripping the cage by its bars and rattling
it as he hammers into it, each rattle shoving the dildo deeper into my tortured
cunt. I sob, my throat raw, my lips
bruised, lipstick and mascara smeared across my face as the throat-fucking goes
on and on. I curl the fingers of one
hand around the bar in front of me and slide the fingers of the other towards
my squelching, dripping cunt, feeling my way up the base of the dildo and
finally pinching my clit and rolling it between my finger and thumb, whimpering
gratefully.
With a roar he shoots his
spunk across my face and into my hair then slumps back, fondling his softening
cock as he watches me shuddering and gasping out my orgasm. Sweat drips from my body, cooling and making
me shiver as he stalks around the cage, looking at my degradation from every
angle. When he stands before my face
again, holding his cock, I’m surprised at his quick recovery. But then I realise he intends something
else. I squeal as a warm stream of acrid
yellow piss arcs into my open mouth, some trickling from its corners but most
gurgling down my throat and filling my belly. He laughs coldly as he shakes the last drops in my face. Then before I can recover, he begins working
a fat rubber dildo into my gaping mouth and I gag and splutter as it jams into
my throat before clicking into place, locked immovably against the metal hooks.
Moaning pathetically against
this monstrous gag, I follow him with my eyes as he prepares to leave, shooting
me a brief, satisfied glance as he shuts the door. Aching and cramped, impaled and gagged,
humiliated and imprisoned, I listen to him locking the door to the room. I shiver in the cold, the candle flame
leaping erratically as it prepares to go out. I whimper as I shift on the punishing dildo, trying to ease its torment
but only succeeding in driving it deeper. I think briefly about the gentle lover of my fantasy. And then I think about my new owner smacking
me hard in the face and calling me “Cunt!” And with a sigh I slide my fingers back to my clit, rocking gently on
the dildo and groaning as the word echoes round my head.
I stand outside the door to
the bar, peeping through its open crack, my legs trembling and my heart
pounding. Licking my dry lips, I glance
sideways at the open door to the street. I could just run away, I don’t have to do this. I could take the shame of walking home,
penniless and half naked in the freezing rain rather than the abject
humiliation of putting myself on sale in the noisy, crowded bar. The men I can see are raucous from
drinking. I watch their huge fists
clasped tightly around their drinks and shudder as I imagine those fists pawing
at me, invading me.
But I know I won’t run. I shut my eyes and rest my forehead against
the cool, smooth wall, breathing hard as I remember how this evening started,
running eagerly down the steps from my front door and bounding into the
passenger seat then squealing as I felt hot breath on the back of my neck. The dog drew its black lips back over savage,
yellow teeth in a low snarl as the hairs stood on the back of its neck and
saliva dripped onto my bare shoulder. The car juddered and rocked as it lunged forward, barking furiously,
spraying me with stale spit as its lead tightened and snapped its head back,
millimetres from my flesh. Your laughter
was cold, humourless as the car squealed into the night traffic and I wrapped
my arms tightly around my body, flinching away from the growling beast. You told me not to be frightened of him, he
could just smell a bitch on heat – and you leaned across and inhaled deeply the
skin of my neck, then whispered in my ear, “And so can I.”
I can feel eyes burning into
the back of my head and I glance over my shoulder. The girl on Reception is staring at me. I tug down the hem of my skirt and, taking a
deep breath, walk into the bar. A wave
of hush follows in my wake as I stride purposefully, my tits bouncing with each
step. I slide onto a barstool, my back
to the room and, picking up a napkin, I fiddle with it. The barman sidles over and stares blatantly
at my tits. My voice cracks as I ask him
for a pen and he makes me repeat it, leaning closer so he can hear me against
the growing noise in the room, and so he can get a better look at my tits.
I write the price list you
gave me on the napkin in an unsteady hand. Blowjob £5; Fuck £10; Anal £20; All Three (Condom) £30; All Three
(Bareback) £40. I stare at it for a moment,
then the corners of my mouth twitch as I add underneath: 10% discount for
parties of six or more. I place it on
the bar beside me and wait.
A hand brushes my shoulder
and I turn to face its owner. “Can I buy
you a drink, Miss?” Before I can reply,
the barman has placed an ice bucket on the bar and he screws an open bottle of
champagne down into the crushed ice. That must be what all the whores have here.
“So, what brings you
here? Are you a tourist, or…”
“I’m working,” I reply,
gazing levelly at him, and I play with the corner of the napkin, drawing his
attention to it. He picks it up and
reads it carefully, then laughs.
“That must be the only
bargain in the whole of London. Why is it so cheap?”
“Because I’m a filthy slut”
I whisper and slide my hand onto his crotch, feeling his cock stiffen and
twitch as I smile slowly at him.
From the corner of my eye I
can see his companions watching us, nudging each other and sniggering. “Fancy earning the 10% discount?” I ask him
and beckon to his friends, who shuffle across, shyly. “Your friend thinks I’m cheap” I say. They look embarrassed and begin denying it
but their eyes are gradually drawn by the napkin as it’s handed round and they
realise what I mean. “But there are
only, one, two, three, four, five of you, so no discount, at least not unless
you can help me drum up a little more trade…”
I unbutton my blouse,
letting its gossamer sheer fabric slide over my shoulders, displaying my
scarlet painted nipples to the room, which is suddenly silent and still. “Do you think I’m worth my price, gentlemen?”
I tug the hem of my skirt up
over my thighs, spreading them wide, revealing my glistening slit. Taking the hand of the man nearest me, I dip
his finger into me and, drawing it out wet and dripping, I suck it clean,
lapping at it and rolling my tongue around its tip, nibbling and kissing it
then thrusting it deep in my cheek until it bulges. Another finger curls into my cunt as I suck
and a thumb circles my clit. I reach out
blindly, feeling for stiffening cocks in the press of bodies.
The cold neck of the
champagne bottle is pressed to my lips and I tip my head back, swallowing great
draughts of it, laughing as it’s pulled away and sticky champagne cascades down
my tits, hungry mouths licking it up. The half-empty bottle is shaken vigorously and I whimper and squirm as
the icy glass presses against the hot, swollen lips of my cunt. Arms entwine me, leaning me back, my head
hanging down, my legs hoisted in the air, still balanced precariously on the
stool as the bottle is slowly screwed into me, stretching my pussy achingly
wide then fucked in and out rapidly, making me gasp as it’s suddenly whipped
out and champagne sprays everywhere, surging up my cunt, streaming down my
thighs and splattering the business suits of the crowd of excited men who whoop
and yelp.
The bar stool topples over
as they drag me off it, crashing through the doors into the lobby and cramming
into the lift. I’m slammed against the
lift wall, rough hands clasping my buttocks and hoisting me onto a stiff cock,
impaling and fucking me furiously to cheers and stamping feet that make the
lift shudder. We spill out into the
hallway and they race down it, dragging me, squirming and kicking, along the
floor, my stockings laddered and my hair tangled and plastered to my face with
champagne. They stop short, shocked,
when you open the door and there’s a comic moment of fumbling as they make
their payment of £40 each. You refuse to
honour my offer of a discount but nobody argues.
Stripped naked, I straddle
my first client, the room crowded and heavy with anticipation. I bend my head, slowly licking his cock from
balls to tip, licking into its slit and tasting his cum, then slurping back
down to his balls, sucking and swallowing them into my mouth, rolling them
around with my tongue. I spit on his
shaft, sliding my saliva up and down it, taking its head between my soft lips
and sucking firmly while I wrap my fingers around its base. I stretch my tongue out, licking his cock into
my mouth, gagging as it bumps the back of my throat and easing it deeper into
my bulging throat. I jump as I feel the
spit of saliva hit my arsehole and a finger roughly force its way into my
tight, puckered hole. Quickly I let the
cock slip from my throat and mount it, my cunt squelching as it slams into me,
rolling my hips as I settle down on it. A cock head replaces the finger pressing at my arse and I groan as it’s
shoved inside, filling me with a series of sharp jerks until I’m skewered on
it. I ride both cocks for a few strokes
before my head is jerked back by my hair. I smile, as a third cock slips into my mouth, its owner gripping me by
the ears as he stuffs it in deeper, slowly fucking my throat.
As my battering speeds up
and I jerk and groan, buttocks slapping against the men’s thighs, tits bouncing
and shuddering, my hands are grabbed and wrapped around two more cocks. I circle my finger and thumb and press them
down firmly over the head of each cock, over and over, fucking them in my fists
and choking as hot, salty spunk gushes down my throat. I’m still spluttering as another cock
replaces it, my hair wrapped round its owner’s fist as he yanks my head back
and drills down, hard and fast, into my throat, his balls bouncing off my
chin. More cum floods my arsehole and
then my cunt and I’m flipped over onto my back. My head hangs over the edge of the bed as men queue up to fuck it,
spraying their spunk into my eyes and my nostrils, wiping their cocks clean on
my hair. My legs are hoisted up in the
air and I’m bent double, crushed beneath the weight of cocks pounding both
holes as the bed creaks and bangs against the wall. I tumble onto the floor and crawl, mouth
open, tongue hanging out, seeking another cock. Fingers dig into my hips, bruising them as another cock gets jammed into
my cunt, bruised and tender now, I moan hopelessly as it hammers home.
My limbs are heavy and
aching and spunk drips from my gaping cunt, my bowels are cramped and heavy
with cum and my arsehole stings. My throat
is raw as I mumble and beg for a break, a rest. I promise I’ll finish, I’ll do everything they’ve paid for but please
just lest me rest for a minute. I’m
hauled roughly across the bed, my wrists and ankles tied to its corners with
ties, pillows stuffed beneath my belly, lifting my bottom up in the air. Now there’s no more licking or sucking, no
playfulness or teasing, just one cock after another pounding into my arsehole,
dumping its load of spunk deep inside me before making way for the next
one. I start to sob, streaking my cheeks
with tears. I writhe and my arse is
slapped hard. “Keep still, bitch. We’ve fucking paid for this!” They slap my wobbling buttocks harder and
faster, in time with their thrusts and its flesh glows pink and hot as I bury
my face in the pillow and weep.
Suddenly the door crashes
open and there’s shouting and scuffling. It’s the hotel manager and the police. With a flurry of angry jostling and hurried dressing, the men scurry away. My bonds are cut and the police haul me from
the bed, tossing my coat around my shoulders, and man-handling me down the back
stairs, out through the fire doors where I land with a thump on the wet tarmac
of the car park.
In the distance, I hear the
soft ‘thunk’ of your car door and the ‘tick tick tick’ of the dog’s claws as he
walks towards me, snuffling and straining at his lead. Some of the men are still there, muttering
and lighting cigarettes, complaining they didn’t get their money’s worth.
“Don’t worry,
gentlemen. I’ve got a very different
show for you. This bitch has been warned
enough times about promising something she can’t deliver. It’s time for her punishment.”
They drew closer, their eyes boring into me as you whipped away my coat. “Come here, Lucy.”
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