Seduced

This is unreal. Here I am driving up the 405, going to the Getty. Dressed in my street slut clothes, already getting hot, because I am meeting someone who will take me, and do things to me and trip me. Another girl who has the same fetish, the same sense of fun. In the Getty for god's sake, what a place to meet. I suppose it is safe, a good place.

What am I thinking, nothing is safe, and I don't want it to be safe. If I wanted safe, I would be home with my boyfriend. I want it to be exciting. I want to feel life by living it on its edge. 

After parking, heading up to the museum on the tram, I feel out of place. Not because of who I am, but because of what I am there to do. There is a contrast between my purpose and the purpose of this place.

I sit in front of the Iris painting, as instructed. Waiting. Enjoying the art, so beautiful, sublime. Such a contrast to me and my purpose for being there. I feel like a roman at an orgy with great paintings all around me while I debauch anyone and anything. The contrast makes the anticipated pleasure (and pain) even more exciting. This girl is good… she is already playing with my mind and I have not laid eyes on her.

The tension in the air is heightened by the painting in front of me. I see it, but all I can see is the girl. I am trying to relax. Why am I tense, this is what I wanted, this is what I have been anticipating. As I begin to work my relaxation, I my vision is obscured for a moment as leather is slipped over my head and buckled around my neck. The collar went on so quickly I could not have resisted if I had wanted to. As I begin to turn, I hear the click of a lock. Not just a collar. It's locked on. The electricity surges through my body, my limbs feel like they are on fire as I turn and see her. Her hair is a dark brunette, not the blond or red I saw in the pictures. God, she is beautiful, she could be a sultry fashion model except for the little twists. The hair is just not quite the right color… the clothes are not prep but more a subtle mockery of prep. A Jewish mafia princess. The lovely charm bracelet with skulls. The playfully cruel smile as she says "caught you…" and leans down for a kiss.

The kiss actually relaxes me. It feels so natural. Her lips are wet, and full, and soft, and communicate to me that She desires me, all of me. I want Her to take me, now. "Touch my breasts" she whispers. It turns out to be more than just an invitation to cop a feel, there is a chain. She moans as I pull on it and her breath suddenly catches as the nipple clamps on each end pull off.

My mind comes back to me and I remember where we are as I hear the footsteps of the guard coming in to the room. I realize I am sitting on her hips, straddling Her. The guard stops, sees us as I get up off of Her, and we smile at her. The guard smiles back and moves on.

We sit in the tram on the way back down the hill, touching each other, drawing the surreptitious stares of other art enthusiasts. We are touching too much, too closely for public, I know that, but I can't help it. We'll be out of here in a minute. I am wearing the nipple clamps now, and they heighten the sensations under my black tank top. The top is too tight; you can see the outline of the clamps through the fabric. My slave collar and lock must be drawing attention too.

At the bottom of the hill, She hooks her finger in the D-ring of my collar and guides me to a large black SUV parked right next to mine. Fate. I've had a little time to look Her over by now, She is a goddess. The quirk in Her soul is visible in Her demeanor, the way she laughs with me, jokes, making me feel like an old girlfriend while at the same time firmly guiding me to Her SUV and placing me in the back like cargo. I am soooo looking forward to this release.

We drive a while. The nipple clamps hurt some, especially when She takes a sharp turn, She drives aggressively. I wonder where we are going, I can't really see too well, though enough. She parks and opens the back for me to get out, whacks my boots with "get your lazy ass out of there…" We are under a freeway overpass.

We are in the open. Change clothes here in the open? "Take off the clothes." The feeling of vulnerability, exposure is getting serious. Am I going to let this bitch make me get naked outdoors? I think so. Taking the top off hurts, with the clamps, but getting naked the rest of the way is a challenge too. As your lusty taunts urge me on, I strip, leaving only boots, collar and nipple clamps. What a fucking rush. I hope no one comes by, and I hope someone will. Standing naked there I am aware of every curve of my body, every area of bare skin.

She throws me a cinch corset, which I put on around my waist, turning my back for Her to tighten. I've worn these before, but this one is cruel, metal stays and pre-contoured. It strikes me that she knew my size, and I feel a pang… has she been stalking… She uses her foot in the small of my back and pulls tight. My figure goes all hourglass, and it becomes more difficult to breathe. I love these things; they make you look sexy and uncomfortable at the same time. I feel completely bound while my arms and legs are completely free.

She whips me around and looks at me with a knowing and approving smile that makes me feel even more exposed. "Show me your wrists!" I hold out my arms and the wicked looking metal cuffs go on in a snap, tight. "Sit pretty for me". The ankle cuffs go on. I am really bound now, the play is under way and won't stop, I know it. I am committed, in my own mind, I will not turn back. She kisses me and somehow with me tied and fettered in this way, it feels different. It is still sweet, but She is in charge, I want the kiss to please Her.

As the kiss breaks, She whispers to me "when you get to dominate me, you are sooo going to love to hurt me after today." This makes my blood run cold, as I know She has something evil in mind. I wonder what is coming, I can feel the anticipation of having Her under my control but know that first I will endure Her ministrations.

It's almost impossible to walk, there are only a couple of inches give with the ankle cuffs. I hobble to the SUV door, and She gives my ass a hard slap that stings to hurry me on. I can't lift my legs to get in. I feel Her swing me around by the shoulders "God I want to fuck you from my knees here and now, you are so gorgeous…" I blush and She forces my head down and lays me down on my back. A blind fold is placed over my eyes "to keep my fav spot secret."

The SUV hums as I listen, laying blindfolded. The hum of the road turns to bumps and thumps as we go off road. Shit, where is She taking me. This is scary. Anything could happen out here and I just walked in to it. Then why am I salivating and I don't even have a gag in yet? The off road means privacy, too. It will give Her more leeway, a better scene. I discipline my mind… have confidence, let go… get in to the scene.

The SUV stops, and the door opens. "Out bitch". God, I have no idea where we are, but I hear her fumbling in the bag, I smell the fresh leather and the hear the jingling of metal. "Spread your knees." I bite my lip in anticipation and lean my head back on the car. I know what is coming next and want it. The dildo slips in with an ease that demonstrates how aroused I am.

Then a little surprise. A butt plug. The familiar slip of KY as it slides in and I gasp. The leather strap goes on as expected, holding both in place. I love the feel of leather, and She tightens it, hard, to make sure nothing slips. I feel both safe and afraid at the same time… She knows what She is doing. I hope She is not going to make me walk very far in this, the leather strap is spreading my ass and pussy cheeks and it will be a bitch to move. I let Her know, "I am going to fuck you up
when it is my turn…"

She loosens my ankle chains, attaches a leash to my collar and for 20 minutes we walk. More like waddle… it isn't very far but I don't move fast with two huge dildos in me held in by straps.

The blindfold comes off and I see the abandoned railroad suspension bridge just ahead. She takes pink rope (god how appropriate and evil) and slings it over a high support on the bridge. I am sweating, in spite of the cool breeze and shaking with both fear and anticipation. I wonder if I will be able to fuck Her up as nicely as she is doing to me. She sure looks good in that non-preppie outfit...

She returns, and gives me a last (I think) long, deep kiss, and quietly says "this is it dear, take your safety call now, you won't be able to for a while…" I think I feel tears trickling down my cheeks. My answer… I reach out with my cuffed hands, grab Her by the hair, and kiss her hard, violently, deep. "Let's get to it then." ......

Tryst

She observed him for a while, watching his movements and facial expressions. He was a typical living male and as such held a fascination for her. Not that it was an attraction, per se, for she didn't really like him that much. But she did lust after him, or rather she passionately desired that which made him so unique and different from her.

He in turn saw the beautifully crafted facade that she presented to him. The long straight black hair, shining like silk in the low light. Her oval face with absolutely clear, light skin punctuated by two dark pools that were her unblinking brown eyes. Her perfectly formed red lips parted slightly to show just a glimpse of white, even teeth. Her body, where it was not covered by her black dressed, presented smooth skin that appeared to flow over delicate bones and just a hint of rippling muscle.

If he noticed that she didn't blink, he didn't let on. Most people didn't. Most people just felt there was something a tiny bit odd about her, but then chalked it up to the somewhat preternatural ambiance that surrounded her beauty. There is usually something odd about the very, very beautiful, just as there is about the very, very ugly. Mostly, they didn't care because they were too busy either being jealous or trying to control their lust.

He continued talking and she continued to listen with one part of her mind, the part she had trained to attract and deal with men. This one had actually come to her, so the process had not been difficult at all and was nearing an end.

She turned her head slightly to the side in a calculated manner that created a curious, almost shy look that hinted at deeper meaning and attraction.

"What makes you think that you want this?" she asked in a quiet voice that cut through silence like a knife.

"Oh, well... I had been told and heard through a number of sources that this was in fact the ultimate experience. And now, of course, seeing you and..." his voice trailed off as if he was unable to locate the part of his brain that controlled speech.

She slowly uncrossed and recrossed her legs, watching his eyes flitter from her face down to her naked limbs, then past her waist and bust where the dress pulled and revealed the shape of her body beneath. His heart was beating faster, pumping blood to the flush in his face.

"I like you," she lied reaching her hand out to take his and in the process drawing him closer. Their joined hands rested on the naked flesh of her knee.

"I have enjoyed our time together. I would like us to be closer." She looked down at their hands and concentrated for a moment on the pulsing of the blood in his flesh where it touched hers.

She leaned over to him, her long black hair sliding over her shoulders and hanging down on each side of her face as her lips approached his. As their lips touched gently at first and then more urgently, opening to admit tongues and become more playful, she let go of his hand and slid both her arms around his shoulders. He reciprocated, breathing deeply and pressing closer to her. She felt his lust building, blood pounding in him, making him erect and pushing his mind to the state where he would most of his rationality.

Her breasts touched and pressed his body, her hips slid along his thighs as she repositioned to sit on his lap, facing him. Her legs were spread on each side when she did this, a symbol of her willingness for more intimate contact.

She broke the kiss and brushed her lips across his cheek as she moved to nuzzle his neck. Raising her head slightly so her lips were next to his ear, she whispered "I want you. All of you. Inside me. I want to take you. Now."

They struggled with each other's clothes momentarily, the only thing slowing them down their continued intense touching, kissing and fondling of each other. When they were finally naked, he turned and lifted her up and then down onto the floor, on her back, her legs spread and hooked around his hips. He slid into her with no effort and gasped as her inner flesh surrounded and rubbed his erection. It was a unique sensation to him, he had never experienced the level of stimulation he was experiencing at that moment, and his surprised eyes showed it.

She wrapped her arms under his and up behind his shoulders, holding him close as he pushed deep within her, and she rocked her hips up to meet him. It felt right, having him inside, but she wanted more. Much, much more.

As his thrusts began and his climax built faster than he had ever imagined possible, she smelled his scent and listened to his pounding heart to determine the exact right moment. The total experience of taking him inside of her was leading her to a different kind of climax, one that was much deeper, passionate, and complete than anything he would ever have.

At just the right moment, she opened her mouth, curling back those perfect lips to expose the perfect small but razor sharp fangs, and bit into his neck. He let out a muffled cry that blended nicely with his moans as she sliced into his carotid artery. Her lips sealed on his neck as his heart pushed rich, hot blood into her mouth, spurting and filling her throat as quickly as she could swallow.

He continued thrusting, letting her drink his blood as he copulated and lost himself in the combined sensual experiences of having both his sperm and his blood sucked and consumed by her.

As she sucked and rocked with him, urging his body to give her everything, he began to convulse. She knew this, it was the point at which the male's climax reached its height, pushing out body fluids, giving her its life in a paroxysm of joy and pleasure. It satisfied her that they both derived a peak of ecstasy from their joining; her entire body was pulsing hot with pleasure and satiation. For a moment she lost herself, gripping his struggling and convulsing body with a steel grip that prevented him from moving away from her even a hair's breadth, and simply felt the pleasure of dual orgasm.

For her, it went on for some time. The warmth in her hips might fade after a while but was bolstered by the circulating warmth of his blood that filled her and gave the rest of her body the extended climax. She consumed him, sucking everything from him until he lay on top of her unmoving. Even then she continued suckling on his neck, drawing the last bits of blood that lingered deep in his body, no longer pumped by the heart but responding to her insistent siphoning.

At last she released the body on top of her own, letting her arms and legs collapse in exhaustion. Satiated, filled, happy, she slowly pushed his motionless form off of her. The body rolled to one side and fell the short distance to the floor with a soft thud.

She rose, and staggered to the bedroom, closing the blackout curtains against the burning sun that would soon appear. The tryst had lasted most of the night, and had ended most satisfactorily. For both of them, she hoped.

The Act of Intercourse

Emma was slowly preparing herself for intercourse.

Slowly, because she was reviewing what she had been taught about the act which would only occur a few times in her life, and perhaps only this once. She wasn't reluctant, in fact she was more curious than anything. The whole idea of allowing a male to actually enter her seemed both violently disgusting and enticingly naughty.

It was natural to feel this way, she had been told. The idea of sexual gratification with a man was alien to virtually all women in modern society. Pleasuring yourself with a man was just a step above beastiality. And yet, the history of sexual intercourse with men, its usefulness in establishing the species, and the pure biological thrill of it could bring on a lusty forbidden desire. This was one reason for the Ritual.

Emma had been sexually active for a number of years, so having something enter between her legs, fill her, rub against her and bring her to climax was completely familiar. She knew how to use a dildo, beads, vibrators... and she had a lover. Maria stood half a foot taller than Emma, and her long dark hair contrasted nicely with Emma's honey blond. Maria was an aggressive lover. Emma preferred being with her to manual methods of arousal... there was nothing better than Maria's tongue sliding over her clit, fingers spreading and diving in, finding the sweet spot deep inside and teasing her to orgasm.

A noise outside brought her attention back to the present, and she called out "Just a moment, almost ready!"

This room in the back of the temple was small but nicely decorated to give it a feminine, comfortable feel. The bed was large and took up most of the space. Emma removed her bra, and lay it on top of her folded blouse. Her hands went to her bare breasts, feeling their shape, imagining the sensation of the male as his body would touch them. She shuddered momentarily... and then slipped off her skirt.

"All right," Emma called. The door open and one of the attendants entered. Behind her was a naked male. Emma stared at the young man, seeing for the first time the sandy haired, golden skinned creature that she would be allowing inside of her. He looked strong. Muscles rippled in shoulders and arms, and his stomach was flat.

As her eyes ran down the body she gazed on the erect member. It looked bigger than she had thought. Yes... she had been taught that penis size was variable, but this still seemed big. It was standing straight out from the man's body, bouncing very slightly with his pulse. He had been given the drug, of course, which produced a painfully hard erection which could only be relieved through sexual climax.

"Here he is. I think you are ready, aren't you? You have reviewed the process, and feel comfortable?"

"Yes, yes, I know exactly how to do it. If I have any difficulty, I will ring for assistance. But I don't think so. I am actually rather looking forward to the whole process, you know."

The attendent nodded knowingly. "Yes, I can remember my time. It really was enlightening. The ending was especially enjoyable. Though I am not sure I would want to do it again, of course."

Emma took the male's slave chain and unbuckled it from the collar. This seemed to disturb the slave slightly. When she removed the collar itself, he seemed to blush and want to hide, as if this was an affront to his modesty.

"Blessings to you on this special occasion, Emma." The attendant turned and left, shutting the door softly behind her.

Pressing down on the slave's shoulders, Emma sat on the edge of the bed. The slave knelt before her. She grabbed his hair roughly, and shoved his face into her panty covered pussy. He knew what to do. He had been trained, and began the process of stimulating her, slowly licking the cloth and bare flesh of her inner thighs.

Emma let him service her for some time this way, through her panties, not allowing direct touch. She needed a little time to feel how it was to use a male. Soon, his ministrations had aroused her enough that she felt her body preparing itself for penetration. The moisture was flowing inside her. It seemed a cruel joke that her body was preparing itself, and would be entered by a man in an unnatural and obscene imitation of natural sex with another woman.

She stood, and removed her panties. Scooting onto the bed, she lay on her back and spread her legs. The male followed her instinctively, and buried his head between her thighs. His activity became more frantic, tongue delving inside her, nose rubbing her clit. It felt good, and she began to play with her nipples, allowing herself to feel the debauchery of heterosexual sex. Her hips began a slow undulation in response to the rhythm of the male.

Finally, Emma felt ready for the penetration. She grabbed the male's hair and pulled him up over her. She slid her legs around his thighs as she had been taught (though it was such a natural movement that she didn't really need to be taught). The slave's penis rubbed against her wet pussy, causing her to moan slightly. His hips pressed in, pressing his member against the outside of her body as if asking permission to enter. She shifted her hips slightly, hands gripping his buttocks and urging him on.

It was effortless and almost a letdown. He slid his hips down slightly and the penis slid across her clit and then popped inside of her vagina. Still, the feeling of having a male inside of her made her gasp, and as he slid in deeper, she held her breath and wrapper arms around his body. He lowered himself on top of her as he slid in, his chest against her breasts. Her nipples were hard, her body flushed, her hips moving, urging him deeper.

The overwhelming feeling of disgusting decadence flooded her when she realized she actually had a penis inside her. It was this feeling that drove her, that made her back arch and then dip as her hips thrust up. He was moving now, thrusting deep inside of her, grunting with effort as she began breathing harder with arousal. His huge penis had distended her, larger than fingers or dildo or anything her lover had ever done before. It felt at once painful, and in that pain it felt like the most pleasure she had ever felt before.

They rocked together, their hips moving in unison, for a while. The noises and smells of hetero sex filled her senses and spurred her on. She knew this was the forbidden pleasure, beneath her, only allowed for the Ritual, here in the temple. It felt so dirty she wanted it to go on forever, and feel this male thrust inside her, deeply, so deep she could feel him shoving against her cervix.

One hand went down to her clit. She began rubbing it, and the feeling of orgasm built, the warmth and peace of climax began robbing her of any other sense, the room disappeared and all she could feel or see was this grunting, sweating, working slave as he struggled to achieve his own orgasm.

She saw it coming, and timed it perfectly.

As her own orgasm waned, the male's thrusts became more urgent. He was no longer servicing her, but was using her to please himself. It was at this moment that the natural order of things were completely turned upside down and had to be corrected. The Ritual had to be satisfied, the natural order restored.

She reached to the bedside table. His thrusting was making her whole body jiggle, her breasts sliding up and down, her head actually bumping against the headboard. It made it a little difficult, but her hand finally found the thick, long metal wire that lay on the table. She took it and wrapped her legs firmly around his waist at the same time she wrapped the wire around his straining neck.

At first, the feeling of the wire didn't penetrate the slave's consciousness. He was too close to orgasm. She could feel him pulse inside of her, the beginning contractions of ejaculation. She wrapped her ankles around each other to secure him to her and make sure he would not slip out during this last critical phase.

Emma grasped the handles on either end of the wire and began to pull just as the male's cock began the strongest contractions. She could feel him spurting, and at the same time she pulled harder and harder on the handles, drawing the wire tighter and tighter around the slave's neck. His eyes bulged, and he began to struggle.

Her grip on his hips held, as did her grip on the garotte. His wild eyes took on a red tint as pressure built in his head, and fingers clawed for the wire which was now embedded deep within his flesh, beyond reach. His orgasm continued, prolonged by the asphyxiation. They wrestled on the bed, his ejaculation pumping more and more semen into her body as she struggled to keep him with her, inside her, squeezing his neck shut.

As she pulled at the garotte even harder, she felt the unexpected recurrance of climax. The warmth and pleasure covered her entire body, and rather than weaken her she used the orgasm to pump more strength into her grip on him. She had him in a death grip, and as his strength fled from his body (along with his orgasm), her own orgasm filled her with the pleasure of his final service to her. She wriggled and pushed against him, using his struggles to rub against her and create more intense pleasure and stimulation.

His tongue protruded from his mouth, turning purple. She dragged his face to hers, forcing the tongue into her mouth in a parody of a passionate kiss. Her hips thrust against him spasmodically as her orgasm seemed to feed off of his departing life force. His heaving chest, struggling for air that would never come, pressed and slid across her breasts. His stomach slapped against hers.

And then he was still, the final death throws over, the dead weight of his body pressing along the entire length of her own.

Emma lay on the bed, panting, sweat of her own body mingling with the sweat of the slave that lay on top of her. She unhooked her ankles, and slowly stretched out her legs. They were cramping a little from the exertion of holding the male during his death struggles. She thought she felt a trickle of blood on her cheek as well, though she wasn't sure.

Slowly releasing her grip on the garotte, she flexed her hands, returning feeling and blood flow. As she did this, the body of the male slid slowly to the side, his chest dragging on her naked breasts.

Shuffling out from under him, she pushed the body of the male off of her. It slid onto the floor with a heavy thump. She lay still for a moment, feeling the remnants of her second orgasm and getting her breathing back in control. Touching between her legs, she felt the juicy slime of semen oozing out.

It had been the most amazing experience in her life, not to mention the most intense orgasm.

The door to the room opened and the attendant entered. She looked at the body on the floor.

"He performed well, then?"

"Oh yes," said Emma. "He performed quite well."

Sperm Producer

Ever since the Castration Pogroms of the late '30s, there has been a shortage of healthy males willing to mate and reproduce.  You would think that would make the ideal situation for a guy like me-- healthy, virile, reasonably young, big cock, ready and willing to mate.

Nope. The ruling Feminine Coalition basically outlawed sex between men and women (though not between women and women, oddly enough). Unless you are an indentured slave certified specifically for mating, then its like, no way. Something about maintaining the purity of the Female race and proper ratios of male to female. So... guys like I was are out of luck. No wonder there has been such an upswing in gays recently.

That's how sperm production came into being. Girls not having sex with guys much any more... well, it leads to a drop in the birth rate. Boys and girls. While the Coalition might not care too much about the baby boys, they still need babies. Perpetuate the species and all, especially the female species.

I was in prison serving a two year stretch for hoarding (I used to buy more than my share of twinkies). One day I was called in to the warden's office.

"Sit down, Silas," she said without looking up. I sat, and metal wrist restraints automatically snapped over my wrists, securing me to the chair arms. The chair was bolted to the floor. Typical... though I had a bad feeling.

"Silas, you are a lucky man. Your blood and semen tests came back, and you are extremely high on the Potentiality Scale. This means that you are going to be assigned to the sperm production facility in Edgewood, New Mexico, for the rest of your sentence. I know you have run afoul of some of the gay gangs here, and I think this is a good move for you. You might actually survive to see the end of your sentence."

I looked at the warden with a skeptical eye. "Do I have a choice?"

"No. Congratulations on your new occupation. Tasha will take you down to your transport." The warden picked up a file from her desk. I glimpsed my name on it. She proceeded to feed the file into a shredder, and little pieces of confetti came shooting out.

Tasha, a rather muscular Bulldyke, unsnapped the wrist restraints, slapped me in a waist chain and cuffed my wrists to my waist. "You going to be a good little boy now, or is Tasha going to hobble you?"

"No, I know the score. You don't have to hobble me." I did know the score too, I had seen the lingering effects of hobbling. Like... a few weeks in the hospital wing. She clipped a chain to my neck and led me out of the office, down two flights of stairs and out to a waiting van.

"Hey, don't I get to take my stuff?" I didn't have much, but it was all I had.

"You won't need your 'stuff' where you are going," Tasha snickered, shoved me in the back of the van and then slammed the door shut.

-------

The SCF at Edgewood turned out to be a set of one story brick buildings, painted white. The few windows that could be seen were high up, long and only about a foot high, more like vents than windows. Heavy wire over these openings announced that someone was concerned about things getting in or out.

Tasha the guard dragged me by my neck chain to a metal door in the back of one of the buildings and buzzed for admittance. I was beginning to get a crush on that bulldyke, in spite of the fact she was half strangling me with the chain. The door opened and I was dragged inside, down a corridor and finally into a small white room that contained little but a chair and exam table. The exam table had an unnerving number of leather straps on it, as if patients here commonly put up a pretty big struggle.

Tasha the guard locked my neck chain to a eyelet in the floor, patted me goodbye, and left.

The chain was too short to stand up all the way, so I sat on the floor and waited.  Maybe 15 minutes later a tall, thin woman in a white coat came into the room, accompanied by a cute younger girl in a short white dress. The woman didn't speak to me, instead she lectured the girl as she began preparations with me.

"This is a fairly good specimen. Let's get him on the table and strapped down," here she unlocked my chain and pushed me onto the table. Both the woman and the girl quickly buckled me in place. I was laying down, arms strapped in place below my body, legs up slightly and spread. Movement was next to impossible.

"First, do a visual check." The woman took hold of my scrotum and massaged it, my testicles sliding back and forth underneath her thumb. It hurt a little, but I didn't show it. "Remember, these are quite sensitive. Treat them well, as they are the main reason it is here. These produce the sperm that we need and will milk from it later."

The younger girl took hold of my testicles roughly, and performed the same examination routine, but this time I winced. The twinge of pain shot through my groin and lower abdomen.

The women completed a basic but invasive health examination, spreading my anus and viewing inside, locking my jaw open for a visual inspection, drawing blood, and the like. When it was done, the older woman gave me an injection. "OK, this will take about 10 minutes to have its affect. The drug will be fed to him continuously, of course, but this jolt with get him going for us relatively quickly."

The woman began showing the younger girl a device I had never seen before. It looked like a couple of small straps with wires running out of it. "Let's show you how to fit this in place. There are some more modern methods of doing this, but we can't get the funding right now, so this will do. It works pretty well, but one disadvantage is that it requires that its penis must already be erect. Newer methods don't need that. So... we will wait until the drug... ah... I see it is taking hold."

I could feel it taking hold. The base of my penis felt swollen and ached slightly. Looking down, I could see my cock rising and becoming harder with each beat of my heart. Soon, it was rock hard, harder than it had ever been before. So hard, it felt uncomfortable.

I decided I wanted to get involved and see what was happening. "Mistresses," I addressed them in terms of formal respect designated by the state (they had my testicles in their hands, after all). "Can you please tell me what is happening? I think I may be having a bad reaction to that drug. What is it--"

The woman pulled her hair back as I spoke, and tied it into a pony tail with a small bungy. She looked at me with disdain, but spoke to the girl.

"Sometimes they try to speak. This one is new, and so isn't aware that spermies don't speak. If they do, they have their vocal cords cut. That usually takes care of it."

I got the idea and immediately shut my mouth.

The woman took my rock hard penis in her hand, and showed the trainee how to put the electrical equipment on. One strap at the head of my penis, just below the glans. One strap at the base. A ring cinched tight at the base of my penis and circling my scrotum prevented accidental removal. Wires hung down.

My cock was now wired. I was beginning to sweat. I knew better than to speak, but I couldn't help it. "Uh... please, don't hurt me. I haven't--"

The woman nodded to the cute girl, who took a small needle and shoved it under one of my finger nails. My speech cut off and became a cry of pain, and I struggled in the straps. A second needle was inserted, and my struggles became more panicked, but to no avail. I could move no part of my body more than an inch in any direction.

As the pain in my fingers subsided to a mild throb, I clamped my mouth shut. Lesson learned.

The wires connected to my penis were plugged in to a small device with electronic readouts.

"OK, Cecile, this unit is designed to provide optimum results but does require a bit of tuning at first. Lets turn it on."

With the flip of a switch, I felt a slight painful snap in my hardened member. A small electrical jolt of current was running through my cock. "Now, try adjusting the pulse. You will be able to tell when you reach the right frequency. Just play with it for a bit."

The sensation in my cock changed, becoming more painful and I gasp; my hips jerked from side to side and I cried out. It hurt.

"The other way, Cecile, don't ruin him. That's it..."

The pain subsided and morphed into a slightly pleasant sensation. My cock began to throb, bouncing slightly. The pleasure increased as the electrostim began to massage it. Running up and down, the pleasure washed over me suddenly. It felt nothing like sex, but was incredibly pleasurable regardless. I moaned, and closed my eyes.

"There, you see? You almost have it. Adjust the Fourier... yes!" And with that announcement, I lost control of myself. My hips jerked against the straps, I struggled, but not with pain. The electric sensations were probing deep inside me, getting fluids to move, gather and then surge toward my cock. I was going to ejaculate, and it felt like a big one.

"Watch now. Quick, get the receptacle. Place it under the end... ooops there it goes!" A massive orgasm rattled through my body. I jerked and convulsed, spewing 3, 4, 5 times. The electrical current seemed to be dipping deep inside me, pulling more and more semen through my inner tubes and out. Each convulsion brought new waves of pleasure; 6, 7, 8 ejaculations, and I felt like I had no more to give. But the electrical waves kept coming, and so did my contractions. The muscles kept pushing, 9, 10, 11 squirts. The liquid was mostly gone now, but the machine was making me squeeze harder, harder, trying to get every last drop out. I began to cry, the pleasure was still there but I was straining harder and harder.  The pleasure was being forced on me, wrung out of me like a washrag.

"Cecile! Turn it off, that's enough. He is dry now, it won't do any good!" Cecile flipped the switch, and the sensations suddenly stopped. My contractions slowed quickly, and I relaxed. My body was covered with sweat, and I was panting from exertion. The whole process had taken perhaps 3 or 4 of the most intense minutes in my life.

Laying collapsed and exhausted on the table I observed the two women as they examined a glass container. It held a fair amount of white viscous fluid, and it slowly dawned on me that this was the sperm they had just forced out of me. There was a huge amount of it.

The brief process had broken me, completely. I started to cry, tears running down the sides of my face. The two women ignored me until Cecile unbuckled me from the table and helped me sit up. I got control of myself as she wrapped a belt-like strap through one elbow, across my back, and then through the other elbow. With a practiced yank, my elbows shifted behind my back, sliding together until they touched painfully. She locked the restraint in place.

Hands free but unable to reach in front of me because my elbows were tightly bound behind my back, I was guided out of the room and to a long hallway with many doors. Each door had a small one-way mirror in it, though we walked by too quickly for me to see inside. My legs were still shaking a little from the experience in the operating room, and I had difficulty moving as quickly as Cecile wished.

When we reached an open door, she pushed me inside. I fell to the floor. Rolling over I could see I was in a very small room that had a narrow cot, a basin for water, and simple toilet. The room was perhaps 3 feet wide and 7 feet long and painted white.

The door clanged shut behind me, a lock sliding into place. I was in what would be my new home for the next 18 months.

--------

The next morning I awoke to the sound of a metal dish pushed through an opening at the bottom of the door. It was a dog dish with food. My arms were still bound behind my back, so I knelt and ate the mush eagerly directly from the bowl. It tasted like dog food as well as looking like it, but I was starved.

The incredibly hard erection I had from the day before had become softer during the night, but my cock was still turgid and erect. It felt unusual with a soreness that extended deep inside me and into my testicles. I didn't know if it was from the process of milking the day before, or because of the drug they had given me.

It was impossible to do anything, or even track time in the tiny cell. My hands could not reach to the front of my body, though with practice I could use them to turn the sink faucet on and off, and flush the toilet. I suppose that's what they had in mind - able to take care of the basics for myself, but unable to touch what my hands most wanted to care for - my cock and balls.

The door opened and Cecile came in. It was like seeing her for the first time. She wore a short dress that was white with pale pink stripes. Her honey blond hair flowed over her shoulders, and the dress showed curves that hinted at large breasts and a small waist. She was barely 20.

My cock grew hard again at the site of her.

Cecile clipped a slave chain on my neck and guided me from the room and down the hall. Several other naked men, all with their arms secured behind their backs and being led by young women by their chains, were emerging and being led down the same hall to a large room at the end. This room was equipped with a series of tables along one side of the room. They all angled slightly slightly up on the side away from the wall. Each male was placed on a table with their head away from the wall, in the slightly raised position.

In the lower center of the table was a hole. My genitals were fed through this hole so they protruded below the table. A couple of straps buckled in place were sufficient to keep me from sliding or moving. I was secured and stuck.

I watched the other men as they had harnesses attached to their cocks. For the first time, I truly noticed that every male there had a huge, rock hard erection, just as I did. Harnesses were also fitted on my cock, and I could feel the same procedures being applied to my genitals as the others. Electrodes were greased and contacts strapped in place, secured and connected to sockets nearby.

The last step in our preparation was a head harness. Cecile took a leather strap assembly and slipped it over my head, buckling it in place. A bit gag fit into my mouth; it tasted bad, of vomit and Clorox. I didn't quite understand why it was needed. The straps were pulled tight, and the bit gag pulled well back in my mouth so that the straps pulled my mouth into a parody of a grin.

All was complete in less than 10 minutes. The girls were efficient, the males compliant. When the prep work was done, I lay on my table, waiting, wondering what would happen next. Cecile was walking up and down the center aisle, between the males, observing, when the first evidence of the daily cycle occurred.

The male across from me, a strong, dark haired young man of 18 or so, suddenly started to moan. The moans increased and became frantic as his body began to convulse. His cock was throbbing below the table, and as his moans transformed to cries, his cock strained for a moment and then began spurting semen. The semen squirted down below the table and was collected in a funnel that led to a glass container below.

The male's orgasm continued to squirt sperm when my own cock began reacting to electrical stimulation. The stim felt like it flowed through my whole groin area, urging the sperm to flood out of my testicles, gather together with semen and begin building pressure. It was making me groan and seconds later I began to scream in a combination of pleasure and pain. The massive orgasm was building, I could feel the fluid building and flowing quickly. The electrical cycles were like a jackhammer, pressing and sucking the sperm from my body in a horrible mockery of orgasm.

As the climax finally hit me and my cock spit body fluid out at high pressure, I screamed and gurgled, unable to control my reactions to the rippling waves of pleasure that ran up and down my body. Semen ejaculated hard, I bit down on my bit gag and let my body take over, temporarily losing consciousness of anything but the intense pleasure that was flooding my brain.

I slowly came back to my senses but realized the electrical impulses were still going on, urging every bit of semen from my body. I was sure there was nothing left, but the shocks kept rippling up and down my cock and balls, and my penis pulsed and convulsed, squeezing out every last drop. My balls were hurting and my entire groin aching when the electrostim finally stopped.

Collapsing in place, I concentrated on recovering... and noticed Cecile standing in front of me, looking at my face with curiosity. She then knelt and checked my genitals where they protruded below the table, touching them slightly and making sure all the electrodes were in place. She then touched my face with her fingers, a surprising and unexpected action, and then moved on to check others.

The room was full of noise. The sound of men in the agony of orgasm rippled and echoed, strangled cries heard through teeth clenched on bit gags. The male across from me had finished his ejaculation and was resting, recovering as I was. We lay on out tables, unable to move significantly, waiting. My arms ached from where they were strapped behind my back. The other straps kept me on the table, unmoving.

Activity in the milking room calmed after a bit, as all the men had their sperm forced from their bodies. We lay in place for an hour or so, when suddenly one of the other males began to moan again, and then writhe and scream in place.

The cycle had begun again, and I watched as one after another of the other males had massive orgasms, ejaculated sperm in huge quantities into collection funnels below the tables, and struggled against their bonds uselessly as the demanding electrical pulses pushed their bodies well beyond their normal capabilities in order to obtain a larger quantity of their seed. I found myself looking at the rows of cocks on either side of me, and the pulsing ejaculations of sperm.

It hit me again, at last... the electrostim dragging my body through the cycle of pleasure, ejaculation and orgasm, followed by increasingly intense pain as the machine demanded more and more sperm. This continued for the entire day, with long periods of boredom broken by moments of decreasing pleasure and increasingly intense pain. The last cycle of the day lasted the longest and there was nothing pleasant about it. My muscles contracted in an attempt to ejaculate body fluid, but my body was out of semen and all that was left was pain. My testicles ached and my penis throbbed horribly.

Finally, we were released, one at a time, and dragged back to our cells, where we collapsed on our cots. I hardly had strength to eat the dog food that was shoved through the door before falling asleep.

This was the first day at the sperm production facility in New Mexico. Each day after was much the same, though as my body adapted and began producing more semen to meet the machine's demands, the pain was mostly replaced with pleasure. Boredom ruled most of the time.

Until, that is, Cecile revealed another side of herself.

Bitch In Heat

It was a pitiful Starbucks on Devonshire across from an abandoned Stater Brothers.

The neighborhood looked run down, past renovation. The only thing that would save it was complete demolition. I watched as she parked and walked in. Jackie sat with me and mumbled something about wishing she could get a coffee herself.

"Fine. Let's go get something and see how it goes." I like to keep Jackie happy, it makes life easier. Not to mentioned I love her something awful.

I drove the rental car to a spot just next to the coffee shop and parked. We walked in and headed to the counter to order something. Jackie had coffee, black, and I had a double mocha latte extra whipped cream hold the coffee. Janice was sitting in one of the few chairs, texting someone as she sipped her cardboard Vente something or other. She didn't notice us, which was remarkable in itself; I was wearing black jeans, black tight fitting halter, and my kick-your-ass boots. Jackie doesn't have to dress to kill, she looks killer no matter what she is wearing.

Our drinks came up and we made our way to the tiny table in front of Janice. I pulled up a chair and sat next to Janice. Jackie stood to the side where she could be seen. Janice looked up as I put my drink on the table.

The look on her face was priceless. First confusion, followed by recognition and then fear. Our first encounter had left an impression.

"What... what are you doing here?" She asked, licking her slightly pouty lips. She wasn't trying to entice me, she was nervous.

"Now, that's not very nice of you, Janice! We haven't seen each other in a while, and I thought you would greet me with a little more enthusiasm than that. We had a good time, I think."

She looked over and noticed Jackie standing to the side for the first time. "Yes... it was... interesting. So are you just here to shoot the shit, you wanna go out or something?"

Janice was beginning to relax, and eyed my semi-revealing outfit. She was such a perv.

"No, dear. You know I wouldn't make the trip all the way out here just to shoot shit, unless it was your shit and it was still inside you. You are looking good today, kinda cute. I want to play. Do you want to play? You do, don't you?" I reached one hand up to stroke a strand of hair away from her face, gently... almost lovingly.

"Jenn, you left me on the street wearing hooker clothes last time. Not to mention I was sore for a week and got and infection. You know I like to play, but I need some reassurances. You know? Besides, how about me and Jackie do you this time," she looked pointedly at Jackie. "That would be fun, wouldn't it, Jackie? You and me? Jenn maybe upside down watching me make you cum?"

Jackie snorted a laugh, leaned down to Janice's ear and whispered loudly, "I think I might like to see your boobs sagging the wrong way, actually. And your face get red from the blood pumping the wrong way up."

Janice turned a little red and looked at me with appealing eyes.

"Here is the deal, Janice," I said. "You can come with us now, freely. Trust me, you will enjoy yourself and we will let you go relatively unharmed. Or we can leave this place now, separately, and Jackie and I will abduct you forcibly and unexpectedly. Maybe at home, in bed, or walking into school, or who knows? If I have to come get you later, I won't be as happy as I am now."

I grinned at her just to show how happy I was. She looked at me for a moment, and finally took a sip of her coffee and stood up. "Fine. Let's go."

I sighed happily and stood with her. One thing I like about Janice -- I am taller than she is, which makes the whole dominating bitch thing a lot easier. Jackie slipped behind her and snapped cuffs on one wrist before she knew what was happening. As she turned with a protest, Jackie expertly pulled her arm around her back and snapped the cuffs on her other wrist.

"Hey! Is this necessary!?" Poor Janice looked upset. She was beginning to get into the swing of things.

"Let's go," I said in a loud voice. Several of the patrons stared at us as I took one of Janice's arms and Jackie took the other. They probably thought we were undercover cops arresting a pusher or something. It felt good to lead the bitch outside and across to our car. I put my hand on her head and pushed down, just like the cops do, as she went into the back seat. The hood I bought slipped over her head and cut off her vision; slamming the doors and she was more or less in our power as I got in the driver's seat and headed over to the 405 and then north.

In less than two minutes we were heading north on the 5 and out of the city. We turned off toward Lake Piru and into the hills until we got to a dirt road. A short distance and we saw what we sought - the abandoned church. It was in bad shape, and didn't have much to recommend it other than its being really isolated. I parked in the dirt lot to the side, out of view.

Janice started wriggling around in the back seat. I think she was getting exciting now that the car was stopped. That or her wrists hurt from being cuffed behind her back while sitting in the car. Didn't matter, the cuffs were staying on. Jackie opened the door and we pulled her out of the back. She was still wearing the hood and couldn't see where we were, which was fine, but her head moved back and forth as if she was trying to see something.

As we climbed up the creaking wooden steps to the side entrance of the church, she started asking for things. "Hey, this time, don't cut my clothes off, ok? I like this top. And don't leave me strung up for so long, I think I still have scars on my wrists." She was really getting into the experience, getting excited and anticipating the pleasure/pain.

Once inside, we slipped her hood off. The sun shown through trees outside and cast an dingy light across the empty sanctuary. The pews were long gone, but the platform at the end was still there and we dragged her forward. She was silent as she took in the rotting wood and broken glass windows, realizing she was far from civilization this time. She looked cute, too.

Then she saw the noose. Right in front of her, how she missed it at first I don't know. I guess she was looking around and realizing she was in an abandoned church, and feeling the irony of how our debauchery would be amplified by our defilement of the formerly holy place.

She jerked back from the rope, looking up at it. Janice gets a lot more attractive when she is scared; her eyes get big, the hard edge fades and is replaced by a simpler, more helpless and pleading look. Almost makes me want to fuck her.

Jackie held her arms behind her as I slipped the noose over her neck, a practiced motion that was complete before there was time for Janice to complain. She stood looking at me with those big eyes and flushed. I let myself go, and leaned in and kissed her on the lips, long and slow, at first just lips sliding but then our mouths opening and tongues darting under and over each other. My arms encircled her, holding her form to mine, feeling her breasts pushing against mine as her breathing quickened.

"Enough!" Jackie was tired of watching us.

I broke my embrace, but before moving away, licked Janice from her collar bone, up her neck and across her cheek. It was a sensual movement, but also one designed to illustrate her subservience to my control. She sighed a little.

Stepping back, I grabbed the other end of the rope which loosely surrounded her lovely neck. The rope was a very heavy one, very thick. This was important, as we didn't want it to saw through the flesh and tear tendons or open arteries. Just a steady, choking pressure would be enough. The rope was flung up over a beam in the ceiling, and when I pulled on the end it tightened the noose around her white neck, slowly squeezing. The knot slipped down as the loop of the noose closed until it rested just below her ear.

"Jenn, you have to be careful... this is serious, I-- gggggghrrrggg...." Janice's protests smoothed into a raspy imitation of speech and then finally to a strained gurgle as the noose drew tight. Another inch of pull and she was on her toes, pushing as hard as she could to follow the rising rope. Another inch and I saw the rope begin to fold and squeeze her neck as the gurgling noises changed in tone; more of her weight was on her neck and less on her feet. Slowly, ever so slowly, I pulled on the rope and watched more and more of her weight being supported by the noose around her neck.

Watching her squirm was a delight. Her body was showing the stress of the situation; her breathing was strained and rasping, just a little air getting through. In spite of this, her stomach and chest were heaving and writhing in a concerted effort to suck in air. As long as her toes could touch the dirty wooden platform, her legs were still and straining straight down. As soon as her toes left the floor, her legs began kicking and flailing.

She lifted further into the air as I pulled on the rope hard; there was no pulley and it rasped against the wooden beam above. When my victim's feet were about a foot off the ground (and her face a nice beet red), Jackie slipped a couple of bricks underneath her feet. She quickly found the supports and lifted herself a couple of inches up, which relieved most of the pressure and she began breathing again. Her legs wobbled a bit, but she was able to balance and recover.

Shears. Garden shears. She protested, whined, cajoled, as we cut her clothes off. I wanted her naked as the day she was born, exposed completely, and it only took a few moments. We saved her shoes and pants. The top and her bra were quickly in shreds.

I especially enjoyed the moment when we cut her bra, slicing through between the cups. Her breasts just kind of fell out of their support, and bounced a tiny bit. Jackie reached over and cupped them, rolling both nipples between her thumbs and fingers. Hard nipples, almost immediately. Janice was into it, as much protesting as she did, her slutty side was showing through. She loved the attention, I think. In being the victim, being manipulated and pleasured with pain, she was the focus. She reveled in it.

The bricks she balanced on were a couple of feet apart, forcing her smooth legs wide. My hand went between her legs and I felt her shudder at my first touch, sliding down and between her pussy lips. I could feel her clit and passed over it as I slid one finger inside her. Poor Janice. She couldn't move much but she sure gasped when my finger went in. She was soaking wet, ready for me to tease and manipulate her, but she couldn't move for fear of losing her footing and jerking down on her noose.

We decided a vibrator would help. I knelt before our captive queen, and began licking her lips and clit as a vibrator slowly slid inside her. She was moaning as Jackie suckled on her breasts, making little gasping noises mixed with guttural grunts of pleasure. The muscles in her thighs were contracting and the longer we went, the more she shook and wriggled with pleasure.

Until she lost her footing, and first one and then the other foot slipped off the bricks. Her feet swung 6 inches off the floor, kicking slightly and her grunting gasps of pleasure became quiet, suppressed gurgles. Her body shook as she tried to breathe and failed.

All this time I kept sucking her clit, working the vibrator in and out of her, holding her ass to keep her close to my face. Jackie kept on kissing and licking her neck and face, pinching and squeezing her tits. As she slowly suffocated the lack of oxygen sent her into a different space, endorphins were released in a flood and I felt her hips shake in a massive orgasm.

As the orgasm slipped away, Janice's body went limp. She was losing consciousness. I went over to the rope and slowly brought her twitching body down. As the rope descended, her body stretched out in a mass of limp arms and legs on the floor. I stood over her, and slapped her hard. She jerked, her head moving from side to side, and I slapped her again. It felt good, so I did it again.

Gasping for air and regaining her breath, Janice struggled below me as I slapped her a fourth time for good measure. I lay down next to her with my face next to hers as she slowly recovered from her near death experience and orgasm.

"Fuck." she finally said.

"Well, yes, sort of," I replied.

"Fuck," she repeated in a hoarse voice. "That was fucking intense. I have never had an orgasm like that. I was out of it, almost blacked out but it felt like I was drifting into an ethereal sea of sexual pleasure. Fucking amazing."

"It's an age old technique, dear. Jackie wanted to let you croak and dump the body, but I told her no. I have more in mind for you."

"Take these cuffs off. I am exhausted," she was cute, thinking I was done with her.

"Well... not just yet. This part was for you. You have been really perving out recently about asphyx and death fetish, so I decided to treat you. But now comes something for me." I smiled at her, and I could see the fear come back into her eyes. She knew I was capable of things she wasn't capable of handling.

I got up. "Time for my fun!"

Janice struggled to her feet. She looked good naked and struggling, though I appreciated her more when she was prone on the floor. No doubt about it, she was cute. I wondered what had gone wrong in that poor girl's life to make her such a kinky pervert. Only for a moment though. We had work to do before dark.

As if reading my mind, Jackie got the heavy, 6 foot steel pole which had been standing inconspicuously in the corner. Janice saw that something was coming, and decided she had had enough. Attempting to dart out the door, still naked and cuffed, she tried to get away. I tripped her casually and she hit the floor like a sack of flour.

"OOOohhhh.... that must have hurt," I said as she gasped and began moving slowly to get back up. Too late, for Jackie was on top of her in a moment, sitting on her ass. She slid the pole under her, along the back of Janice's legs, along her back and under her cuffed arms and finally past her head. Jackie slipped a belt under Janice's elbows, threading it under and then over and through the buckle. Tightening the belt drew the elbows together nicely.

Jackie stood and we both took a look at her handiwork. Janice tried rolling over to get up, but having your arms secured behind your back at both wrists and elbows makes maneuvers like that much more difficult than you might think. The heavy pole didn't help much either.

"She looks delicious," Jackie said, and then leaned over and kissed me. She melts me when she is unexpectedly affectionate like that. We spent a little time enjoying the kiss, and broke when we heard Janice complain.

"Hey! Guys! I been a sport and all. But come on, let's head back. It's going to be dark soon and I will be missed. And I am getting splinters here. If you want, we can head over to my place, and get naked together..." She looked pointedly at Jackie, whom I must admit, was looking really good. She has a perfect body, one that I have described as lithe more than once.

"Uh, Janice, you are already naked. Whether we get naked or not will be up to us, later. For now, I like that you are the only one without the clothes. Be grateful we aren't going to tie you to an anthill or something." I stood with my arm around Jackie and looked at Janice's naked body splayed out on the floor.

"Let's get down to it," I said to Jackie, and she stepped over to the corner where the pole had stood. Several coils of rope lay on the floor and she brought them over and dumped them on the floor next to Janice's increasingly writhing body. The two of us knelt, slipped a couple of coils of rope under our struggling victim and began the process of wrapping them around her body tightly. As the coils slipped over and under her body, we tightened them so that she was secured to the pole. I left her head and legs from her knees down free.

Three straps left-- they went around her legs, folding her shins to her thighs and securing her there. The last strap went around her forehead, and secured her head to the pole behind her. When we were done, poor Janice was tied securely to the pole, unable to move, bend or struggle. She was complaining loudly and beginning to get on my nerves.

"One... two.... three... heave!" Jackie counted down from one end of the pole as I took the other. We lifted together, and set the pole on our shoulders. Janice hung from the pole between up and squealed like the stuck pig she was. All three of us made our way outside, Janice swaying slightly between Jackie and I as we made our way around to the back of the church.

There were two heavy posts buried in the dirt over a small fire pit just in back. Nothing fancy, just a hole in the ground with old ashes, and the two posts sticking up. The posts had notches at the top. Jackie and I had secured and tested these posts the day before when we had been out preparing the site. We moved over to the fire pit and slowly, carefully, set Janice's pole into the notches of the posts. She hung above the fire pit, looking down.

She began to realize what was happening, though I think she didn't want to admit it yet. Her complaints became a little more vocal, a little more panicked as she looked straight down at the ashes below her. I put my hand on her to calm her down, and stroked her smooth skin like I would a horse. Or a puppy. Or even a pig, spitted for roasting.

Jackie got the wood. It was a particular kind of wood design for slow, low flame coals. I got the kindling. A bit of newspaper beneath it all, and a lighter and the fire began to burn. It wasn't cold out, in fact it was kind of hot, especially out in the hills like we were. Winter in California can be that way, I guess. A breeze had come up in the late afternoon which blew the smoke and most of the gathering heat away from our roast.

Janice hung about three feet above the flames, looking down as the fire caught and flames formed. She was getting a little hysterical, though she couldn't be feeling any of the heat yet. I did take her hair and tie it back in a pony, to keep it from hanging closer to the flames. No premature catching fire.

I decided that Janice had never looked better, tied up completely immobile as she was, hanging above the fire. It made me happy to see her like this. I reached out and fondled her nipples a bit, observing them get hard. Playing with her boobs was fun, but playing with her pussy was more fun. Her legs, while tied to the pole, were still slightly apart, allowing room for me to get a couple of fingers in and play with her clit a bit, and then slide in. She was still a tiny bit wet from the asphyx scene and it felt good to be inside of her, whether she liked it or not.

Jackie had spread a blanket out with a picnic basket. Wine, cheese and bread were spread out as well as some chilled bottles of Fiji water. I love Fiji water. Who wouldn't? It's from Fiji, after all! I sat down on the blanket and Jackie and I sat watching the fire burn below our victim. We munched on cheese and bread, popped the cork on the Merlot, and began to get quietly drunk.

It wasn't long before I was in the mood; wine does that too me and with Jackie laying right next to me, I found myself rolling over and kissing her. She kissed back, and wrapped arms around me, pulling my shirt up and out of my pants. It wasn't long before my bare breasts were pressed against hers, and my hands were roaming down to her legs and ass. Jackie kisses better than anyone I have ever known, and I could have gone on kissing her for hours. She stroked my face, neck and back as she kissed, loving me in the way that melts me and wants her inside of me.

My girlfriend slipped down from my mouth to my breasts, suckling on my nipples, evoking a low moan from me. Her hand was reaching under my pants, trying to get deep enough to find my slit. I fumbled for a moment and finally undid the buttons, and her hand found me and slipped inside.

"Oh, god...." I was vocal when I had sex, and Jackie was the one that made me cum every time. She slipped my pants off, leaving me pretty much naked on the blanket, and slipped her head between my legs. Her tongue slipped over my clit, two fingers inside, and I was in heaven. I lay looking at the sky, letting the feeling slowly build in me, until finally I closed my eyes, arched my back and bucked. The orgasm flooded over me, and continued. Jackie didn't let up until I lay exhausted, arms and legs spread wide, relaxed, tired, and happy. I swear, that woman is the best.

Reality came back to me in the form of Janice, who was really complaining loudly. I looked lazily over to her and saw that the fire had begun to burn down to coals, and the air beneath her shimmered with heat. The breeze had stopped and the heat was heading right up to her exposed flesh.

"Please... Jenn... I am getting burned. It hurts here. Please, let me go. Don't really hurt me, this is burning me." Blah, blah, blah, it went on. Pleas. Begging. I could see her stomach and boobs were turning red from the heat, so I stood up and walked over.

"Tell you what Janice? You aren't done yet, but I want you to cook evenly, so I will turn you over." I took hold of her spit from one end, lifted and turned it over, then gently laid it back down on the post. She was now facing toward the sky, and the heat of the fire was covering her back and ass.

"Jenn, please. You can't leave me here cooking. This is not fun any more, you have to let me go. You really want to burn me? My front is already burned, and-- pmpppmghghhhmp" Her complaints suddenly turned into unintelligible muffled sounds as Jackie stuffed a wad of underwear into her flapping mouth. A strip of duct tape sealed it in place.

Jackie looked at me sheepishly. "Sorry. I couldn't stand her yapping any more. Really annoying, and I want to spend a little quality time with you. Can't do that with her constant, narcissistic, self centered whining."

"Yeah. I agree. She is about as narcissistic as anyone I have ever met. It's one reason she is so kinky, she loves being tied up because it's all about her. She likes the pain because it is being inflicted. The fact someone else is there to inflict it is what gets her off." I took Jackie by the hand, and walked back to the blanket. The muffled whining continued, but it was at least bearable now.

Settling back on the blanket, I got down to work removing Jackie's clothes, a bit at a time. The sun was setting fast, and the temperature was dropping so we snuggled up next to the fire. I did so love a campfire, and especially snuggling with my love next to one. We kissed for a while (my favorite activity), and started making out. She had her legs and arms around me and was moving as if trying to merge flesh, make our bodies one. I finally rose a bit when she was on her back and lifted one leg... and pressed my pussy against hers.

I can't orgasm that way, but whoa... did it feel good to have her pressing against me. We started grinding, spreading our body fluids together and across each other. My hands reached down and played with her breasts, pushing hips together as I caressed her softness with my hands. She couldn't stand it after a while, I could tell she wanted to come, and her right hand slipped between our pussies and started massaging her clit.

Taking that as a sign, I slipped down between her legs and began work. She tasted wonderful, though I knew some of what I was tasting was my own juices. It didn't matter, I loved tasting her and feeling her in my mouth. It also didn't take much time before her ass was lifted above the blanket, shaking as I penetrated her in the way I knew she liked. I looked up over her stomach and saw her face, eyes closed, mouth open in an "O", and her nipples hard and erect. About a minute later she let out a long moan, and collapsed.

I crawled up next to her and took her in my arms, cradling the naked form of my love. We snuggled together, and looked down the length of our bodies at the wiggling form of Janice. Her skin was shiny from sweat, brought on by exertion from her struggles, as well as the increasing heat of the fire below her. Jackie and I simply cuddled and watched her for a while.

Finally, I said, "it's probably time to turn her now. Her ass is turning kind of red."

"Sure," Jackie sighed, "But let's grease her. I like her body all shiny like that."

I got some butter from the picnic basket and started smearing it over Janice's folded legs. Her head was strapped in place but I could still see her eyes big and scared staring at the sky except for the moments she could see one of us. Jackie spread the soft butter over her breasts and stomach as well.

"Let's turn her." We had buttered her pretty well on top, but needed to do the other side. I lifted with Jackie as Janice struggled. "Stop that, Janice! You don't want us to drop you in the fire, do you?"

Janice stopped struggling suddenly, and we turned her over so that she was face down again. Once the pole settled down on the posts, we began smearing the butter on her back and ass. It went on a lot easier, probably because the flesh on this side was still pretty hot from the fire below. It was red, too.

After her body was shining perfectly in the firelight, we left Janice to roast for a little longer and returned to the picnic basket. There, we removed some marshmallows which we immediately impaled on wire hangers. Janice looked down at the puffy white confections which sizzled below her, closer to the fire. She had stopped complaining and trying to make noise through her gag.

We finished a few marshmallows and drank some bottled water. We turned Janice again to make sure she was cooking evenly. I figured she had been sweating up a storm and probably needed a drink to rehydrate her, so I zipped off her duct tape, which elicited a short scream of pain. I did so love to hear Janice scream. After I pulled the underwear out of her mouth, she started complaining again.

"Jenn. You can't be serious. I am fucking dying here... please. You want me to be your bitch, I will be your bitch. I will call you mistress and do anything you want. In public even. Want me to wear nipple clamps to class? I will. Fuck me with a dildo, make me wear it all day. Collar me. Please..."

Blah, blah. The offer to be my bitch stopped me for a moment. Humiliating dear Janice in public and making her do degrading things was pretty attractive. But then I realized... I had that power anyway. I poured a bottle of water into her open and flapping mouth. She gagged and then swallowed as fast as she could. When the last bit of water dripped into her open mouth, I shoved the pantie gag back in and taped it over. Before leaving though, I licked her face. She looked so lovely, I couldn't help it.

Licking her face made me realize something. "Hey Jackie, we didn't oil her face! I think we need to be more thorough!"

Janice started renewed struggles, which didn't really matter. Jackie is really good at tying people up. We used the last of the butter and smeared it over her face and neck.

It was late, and the fire had burned down to just coals. The darkness was complete, and we had to use a camping lantern to see our way around. Anyone who knows about campfires knows that the coals can be hotter than the fire itself, and Janice was getting a practical lesson about this fact. She started asking to be turned periodically through her gag. It wasn't easy but she used a lot of effort and we could understand her say "Please. Turn. Me."

We even turned her on her side a few times so that her sides would cook as well.

Post coital bliss was simply better with the naked form of Janice roasting nearby. Jackie and I snuggled and kissed and fondled each other, every once in a while going over to check on the roast.

I sighed. "OK, I think it is time to see if she is done."

Inside the picnic basket was a long cooking skewer. The kind that was used to make kabobs. I pulled it out and went over to Janice, who was once again staring up at the night sky and stars as her back and ass slowly got redder and redder...

I pressed the skewer against her right breast, which protruded up from the ropes. "Don't move now. This will hurt a bit." (I laughed). (Janice grimaced at me).

With a nice, steady shove, I pressed the heavy needle into her breast. Janice screamed, muffled behind her gag. I pushed it further. Janice continued screaming as the flesh on the other side of her breast rose and poked out. The skewer suddenly popped through. There was almost no blood, just a tiny bit from where the needle came out.

"I think she is done!" I called back to Jackie, who was packing up the camping things. I pulled the skewer back out in a slow, steady move. Janice continued yelling and moaning beneath the gag. It was almost enough to make me want to fuck Jackie again.

Once everything was packed, we threw water on the remains of the fire, kicked dirt over it and then poured water on it again. We were nothing but careful. No accidents for us. We then lifted Janice up by her pole and carried her to the car.

When she realized we weren't going to untie her, she started struggling and straining and screaming from behind her gag once again. She was getting her exercise, which wasn't a bad thing. As cute as as she was, she could stand to lose maybe 10 lbs.

We drove away from the abandoned church leaving no trace of our presence there, except for the cold campfire. The car smelled a little like cooked meat. Back on the 405 we drove to Janice's neighborhood, but before approaching her house, we unstrapped her head from the pole and slipped the hood back on. We then restrapped her head to keep her from hurting herself as she wiggled and thrashed about.

We parked in front of her house. No one was there, or if they were they were asleep. The house was dark and it was quite late, well after midnight on a weekday. Slipping Janice out of the car by her pole we carried her toward the house. She was trying to make lots of noise, but the gag and hood kept the volume down.

We carried her up to the front door and leaned the pole against the wall next to it. I kissed her once, licked some of the butter off and pinched one of her nipples.

"It's been fun, Janice. Next time we might try something a little more hard core, what do you say?"

I could hear her trying to yell "NO, NO!" through the gag and hood.

As I plopped into the driver's seat next to Jackie and rolled away from the struggling form in the dark, I said "That will teach the bitch to criticize my writing."