Nonconsensual: Part 2
Nonconsensual: Part 3
Nonconsensual: Part 4
Sean was introduced to inverted suspension. One day he hung upside down by shackles on his ankles for several hours. He thought he would faint from the blood rushing to his head, but the women kept him conscious by invoking a number of agonizing techniques.
While hanging with his head several inches from the floor, the two women would take his testicles and stick large needles into them. These weren't little needles, the kind they gave immunizations with. These were big things, very sharp at the end but up to six inches long. Sean's throat became hoarse from constantly screaming, and eventually he didn't bother. Screaming didn't help; he cried, with tears flowing from his eyes down over his forehead and disappearing into his hair.
When the women grew tired of actively torturing the poor slave, they provided some passive form of torment. Jess was especially adept at this, and loved to arrange new ways of using Sean's own body against him. The simplest technique was introduced one day when the two women were going out for the evening and Jess had been unhappy with the way Sean had groveled earlier. Sean had actually had the bad judgment to beg Jess for mercy.
Jess brought him to the torture room and pushed him to the floor. She strung a rope through the pulley in the ceiling and brought it down all the way to Sean's enlarged and swollen testicles. Wrapping the rope around his scrotum sever times, she pulled the rope tight and tested the knot for strength. Seeing that it would hold, she began pulling on the rope, smiling and laughing at the increasing predicament of her helplessly bound male.
The rope pulled taught and began to tighten and stretch Sean's balls higher into the air. He started breathing harder, trying to cope with the discomfort. Jess kept pulling, and Sean pushed his hips higher in the air, trying to get some relief. The pain increased as the rope pulled him higher and higher, more and more of his body weight being supported by his balls alone.
When the rope finally pulled him completely off the floor and his entire body weight was supported solely through his distended, stretched scrotum and testicles, Sean cried out in pain, sobbing and screaming in a panicked tone. He was hanging upside down, his legs spread slightly, arms restrained behind his back, swinging slightly. The pain was incredible, an aching, urgent, piercing pain that demanded that Sean do something to save himself. But he could not. The best he could do was not struggle, for every small movement he made caused a jerking, twisting motion to exact even more agony from his purple balls.
Satisfied that Sean was in agony and would remain that way, Jess turned off the light, closed and locked the door, and left for her evening out with her girlfriend. Sean hung in the darkness, tormented by the pain, for four hours until the women returned and Jess lowered him to the floor. The pain in his testicles continued for days afterward, and Sean was certain that permanent damage had been done. This punishment was a practical reminder that Sean's sadist lesbian mistresses would do anything to him, and viewed him as nothing but a useless piece of meat that could be abused in any way they pleased.
A new ritual was introduced during his second week serving Shelley and Jess. Each evening he would be brought into the dining room to kneel under the table at which the two women ate their dinner. Under his feet and knees was a large piece of plywood that had small nails hammered through, sharp side up. The nails pierced painfully into his feet and legs, and he remained under the table suffering while the women ate their dinner. If he remained silent, not expressing the suffering he experienced during this ordeal, the women would scrape scraps from their meal into a bowl for him to eat (still kneeling on the nail mat).
The first time he cried out in pain from the piercing of the nails, he had been dragged out, tied extremely tightly with his knees against his chest and his arms around his legs so that he could not move even an inch, and then placed on the board of nails. Shelly then sat on him while she ate the rest of her dinner, enjoying the feeling of his labored breathing and moaning agony beneath her as she ate.
Sean was never, ever allowed to touch his genitals or to have any sexual relations with either of the women. He was allowed to watch the two women while they made love, which was a kind of torture in itself as they were beautiful and made love with such passion he could think of nothing but pressing his own hard cock into their bodies, but he could not. He was bound and forced to watch their pleasure as he suffered some painful position or torture they had prepared for him for the occasion.
The closest Sean came to ever touching one of the goddesses was the face dildo. This was a heavy leather gag that covered his lower face. A small protruding plug on one side was placed in his mouth where he could bite down and hold it steady. His jaw was held wide by this device, and he was effectively silenced. On the outside of the leather gag was a protruding dildo, thick and about six inches long. With this artificial phallus, sticking out from his face, Sean was guided into place between the legs of one of the girls and carefully place the end of the dildo into their pussy. He could then fuck the women with his face dildo; if he did well he was given additional scraps of food. If he did not please his mistress, he was punished with whips, pincers, hooks, or whatever was handy.
During these sessions, Sean's cock would grow hard in its chastity cage, pressing to expand and get out, but was held in check by the chastity device. He could smell and see the pulsing wetness of his mistress. He could not touch, and could only give pleasure, never receive it.
One day Jess came into the torture room where Sean was sitting on a thin wooden board, weights on his ankles dragging him down and pressing his sensitive testicles into the sharp edges of the wood. He rocked back and forth, trying to find a better position, but there was none. Jess approached him and untied one of his hands. She presented him with a piece of paper and pen, and said curtly, "Sign."
It had been several months of captivity and slavery. Sean had lost so much of his memory and orientation, he didn't understand what she meant at first. He stared at the piece of paper and the words slowly formed and he understood. It was the pink slip to his car. They were selling his car. He felt dizzy, and rocked back on the wooden horse so that it dug deep into his anus.
His hesitation annoyed Jess, who took a heavy tool from a workbench on the side of the torture room.
"Do you know what this is"
Sean shook his head.
"It is a tooth extractor. Shelley has been wanting to use it on you for a while. Sign this or we will spend the rest of the evening seeing what it is like to remove all your teeth. You don't really need them."
Sean took the pen and signed. His old life was fading away. With that signature he released it in his mind, signed away the last vestiges of independence and accepted that he was owned property of these two sadistic lesbians. His only fate was to endure whatever they pleased.
Sean cried and rocked back and forth on the wooden horse, tears running down his cheeks.
A few days later, Sean knelt between Shelley's strong, naked thighs as he manipulated the face dildo to bring her to a screaming orgasm. He was beginning to know the techniques that would get each of the two women off; with Shelley, she liked to start slow and then quickly build, with the dildo progressively pushing higher and higher at a sharper angle. While he derived no physical pleasure from seeing Shelley orgasm, he had acquired a great sense of satisfaction from it. His life was now devoted to pleasing these two women. When he saw them happy and pleased, it made him so excited he almost climaxed himself. When they were unhappy or angry, it would send him into a paroxysm of fear and horror.
When she was done, Shelley called over to her partner, Jess, "You know, I think this animal could be given an extra job. Do you think we could train him to care for the thing in the basement?"
Jess looked doubtful for a moment, but then sighed and said, "Well, why not? Let's give it a try. He knows if he screws up I will cut some part of his body he likes, so I doubt if he will cause much of a problem."
The three of them stood and Shelley guided Sean to the hall and all the way to the end. There was a locked door which he had seen the women go through on occasion but never knew what lay behind. Jess unlocked it and turned on a light. A set of steps descended down into a dark area with concrete block walls and a concrete floor. It smelled dusty.
There was another odor down here. A rancid, biological odor which got stronger the further down the stairs they went. Sean was nervous. Whatever horror was down here, he wanted no part of it. Whatever pain awaited, he was willing to do anything to avoid.
A second light was turned on, showing the rest of the basement area. It was remarkably large for a basement, and packed with many items in boxes and leaning against the walls. Some of the items looked ominous. It appeared there was a collection of whips on one wall, and what appeared to be a rack in the corner. Sean shuddered.
In the dead center of the room was something quite odd. It was large and white. It looked a little like a punching bag dummy, in a roughly human shape, arms spread wide, legs slightly apart. There was a blob at the top where the head would be. A dark splotch between the legs might have been a growth or some of the stuffing coming out, straight out and stiff. Dark slits where the mouth and nose would be had been cut in the white material. Beneath the white object was a large flat tray, full of some slimy substance.
Shelley walked over to the thing and pushed it so it swung back and forth. It was suspended from the basement ceiling on a chain. The stark light from the unshielded bulb cast an eerie moving shadow as the thing swung back and forth... and then there was a noise.
Sean found himself saying prayers he had learned when a child. Praying that it wasn't true. That this wasn't what it appeared to be.
Finally, the rock hard penis pulsed and the testicles shuddered and rose slightly in a jerking motion, and a white stream of slime spurted out as the moans from inside the plaster casting grew to cries. The white semen spurted out and away from the form and then fell down to the tray below, mingling with other liquids and lumps.
When it was over, Sean turned and vomited on the floor. He had no doubt that here, hanging in absolute, total confinement, was his predecessor. The last slave, now relegated to a plaster cast, concrete prison that allowed no movement. The head enclosure had no holes for the ears, no openings for the eyes. The only openings were slits for nose and mouth, and holes at the bottom for the protruding, swollen genitals and a hole in back for feces to escape. A tube came out of one nostril hole and up to a plastic drip bag that contained some sort of hospital forced-feeding nutrient.
Shelley turned to Sean and spoke. "This is the thing in the basement. It needs it's pan cleaned once every day or two, and the feeding bag replaced once a day. This is now your job. You are not to touch his flesh in any way, this is only for myself and Jess."
"I see you are curious about his erection," Jess commented. "Part of the nutrient feed bag is a steady mix of Viagra and some other meds we choose to give him. He always has an erection. Always. The pain and pleasure delivered to his cock and balls are all the only external stimulus he has in his wretched life. I have no doubt... he is insane... by now...."
The three looked at the white concrete plaster form still swinging gently from the ceiling, two in contemplation, one in abject horror.
And so it was that Sean began the care and feeding of the Thing In The Basement.