Sunday, September 1, 2013

Do You Love Me?

“Do you love me?” I whispered in her ear, letting my breath carry the words gently and warm her neck.

“Yes…” She was not struggling against the straps that held her to the chair. Her eyes closed and her head tilted slightly, as if to give my question more access to the bare flesh of her neck.

My own long hair slid across her skin, where goose bumps appeared and then faded. As I slowly moved around behind her I let my breasts brush against her upper arm, first my left… then my right. I wore no bra and I sensed her warmth and imagined that my nipples grew hard just at that moment.

Positioning myself behind her, I lowered my face so that it was next to hers. We both looked forward into a mirror that sat in front of the chair, she looking into my eyes, as I looked into hers. Her legs were strapped to the chair legs, slightly apart. The light skirt she wore revealed smooth thighs (though no more).

Casually, my left hand slid across her shoulder until it cupped her throat, feeling the bare flesh there and squeezing slightly to feel the blood pump through arteries to feed her brain. She did not flinch. After a moment my hand slid down from her neck to her chest, and then under her top as I felt cleavage give way to the softness of breasts. Down my fingertips felt, crawling under the cloth and finding the perfect underside of the sphere until my hand cupped and lifted her right breast. My index finger slid up and played with her nipple, which was hard, waiting for me.

She gasped slightly at the stimulation, and shifted position in the chair, her body feeling the impulse to respond. She couldn’t, which was the way we both wanted it. My right hand slid fingers into her hair, entwining and grabbing and pulling her head back until she looked directly into my eyes as I looked down. I kissed her then, a deep tongue kiss, forced upon her restrained form, and yet willingly accepted. Her tongue flittered and pulled mine in as her breathing quickened. Her kisses were always the best.

I broke the kiss, and withdrew my hand. Her top was partway open from my explorations, her breasts partially visible. Restrained as she was in the chair, ankles, knees, wrists and elbows, she had never looked sexier. My own arousal almost took me made me release her and start ripping clothes off, but I held my concentration.

From behind her, I brought out the thin latex sheet I had waiting. I slowly positioned it over her face, and then pulled it back all the way until it clung tightly, conforming to the shape of her nose, eyes, mouth. Her breathing suddenly became labored. In fact, her attempts to breathe were no longer successful. She stayed remarkably still at first, simply tolerating the rubber that covered her face. But the desire for air overcame her, and her chest struggled, heaving in her attempts to suck in some oxygen.

I released the rubber sheet, and she took a huge, deep breath. Panting for just a moment, she looked at me in the mirror with frightened eyes. Looking back at her in the mirror, I kissed her cheek, caressed her hair, and smiled approvingly. The latex sheet descended over her face once again. This time she saw it coming and took a deep breath before I pulled it tight and cut off her air.

It was only 45 seconds or so, but it was enough. She began to struggle, chest heaving and arms wriggling in the restraints. The latex sheet sucked into her open mouth as she tried to breathe. I released the sheet and she sucked in air, panting, gasping for longer this time. She didn’t look at me for a while, and when she finally did her eyes showed the same fear, and as well as something else…

“Do you love me?” I once again breathed in her ear.

“Yes!” She almost spit out, as if unwilling to give up the air for that simple word.

“Will you do anything for me?”

She looked at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and then lowered her face so she stared at me directly in the mirror.

“Yes!”

It was time. She knew what she was in for, understood the reality. She had committed herself.

From behind her chair I produced a single large clear plastic bag and a velcro strap. I slid the bag over her head. She stared out through the distortion of the clear plastic, still looking at me. The fear was still in her eyes. And yes… that something else. The love. The dedication. The commitment to do all, endure all, for me.

Could I take advantage of that? Yes, yes I could.

“When I place the strap around your neck, it will cut off your air. All you will have to breathe is in this bag and in your lungs. The air will last about two minutes. The velcro strap can easily be removed. Just pull on it, here.” I illustrated how it could be undone with a quick, simple pull.

“Once I place the strap around your neck, I will undo your right arm restraints. You may remove the strap and bag at any time. You may breathe at any time.” She looked at me with a rising question of fear. She had not expected this– this was a test. A test beyond what she was prepared for. She saw it coming.

“All I ask is that you not remove the bag.  That’s all. Give yourself to me, completely to me. Breathe in what air you have. I will be here with you. When consciousness slips away, know that you are still with me, and that it is forever.”

Tears came to her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “I don’t know… if I can.”

“That’s up to you dear.”

I slipped the strap around her neck, pulled it tight and let the velcro hold it in place. She breathed in suddenly, the bag contracted over her face as all the extra air was sucked into her lungs.

As she continued to breathe, the bag expanding and contracting with each breath, I moved from behind her to the front, kneeling before her and undoing the restraints of her right arm. Her hand reached up and gripped my shoulder. I rose and slid over her, until I knelt between her legs, my face close to hers. She looked into my eyes with pain and fear, but I could see that it was fear that she would not make it, that she would give in.

Her sucking breath came faster now. She shook her head from side to side. Her free right hand alternately gripped the chair and my arm. Her skin under the bag was wet, sweaty from exertion and from the humidity of the trapped air inside.

The heaving of her chest was so alluring, arousing, I unbuttoned her blouse all the way, spreading it wide to expose her beautiful, heaving breasts. Placing my hands on her bare chest and stomach I felt the strain, the desperation in her body as she gasped for oxygen.

“Please… please…” She gasped. What it was she begged for I did not know, and I suspect she didn’t either. I slid my hands up her body to either side, under, and then to the sides of her breasts and on to feel the ribs under her arms. At the same time I moved up and kissed her through the bag. Her gasping was panicked now, and her right arm clutched my neck, pressing my head against hers as she tried to kiss me with an all consuming kiss that would distract the pain her body felt.

I separated and watched her eyes closely. The fear was gone, the gasping was slowing. She was beginning to go.

Her free hand, which had held my arm tightly, was no longer tight. It was going limp, as her head began to wobble slightly. And then, all at once… her head fell backwards and her body relaxed completely.

I waited just one second, caressing her face, and then undid the strap. The bag slid off and cold, fresh air flooded her face, reviving her semi-conscious form. I slapped her once, twice. Her breathing strengthened and then took hold in slow, deep, starved gasps. Sitting with her head back, looking at the ceiling, she gasped and breathed and finally cried… tears running down her face.

I undid the rest of her restraints, and when they were all undone she fell forward, arms around me. “I have failed you!” she sobbed.

“No, dearest. You succeeded. I simply brought you back.”

We sat together, enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies against one another as she slowly recovered from the most intense experience of her life.

Monday, June 17, 2013

Seminal Execution


Rob hung from the X framed cross in the bare concrete room, awaiting execution on sex molestation charges.

The all woman jury had convicted him in less than a day; the woman judge had sentenced him the next.  That was just last week.  Justice was swift now that women had gained control of most institutions of power.

Rob's genitals had been locked in a tiny cage since he had been arrested six weeks earlier. Prior to this he had been used to masturbating at least once a day, depending on the circumstances. He couldn't help himself. Any beautiful woman would set his mind spinning and before he knew it he would be off someplace, thinking of her undressed, her legs wrapped around him, his arms drawing her close, his cock entering her soft flesh. Now see where it had gotten him, he thought ruefully.

The head prison guard, a woman of about 40 with a tight uniform that showed off a perfect body, large breasts and smooth brown hair tied back in a regulation pony tail, oozed sensuality as she finished the preparations for his execution. She checked the straps that held him tightly to the wooden frame and the conductive lube on the electrodes on his head and ankles, making sure all was in order.

To the side, the prison warden recited the final sentence.

"Robert Lukanis, as the Women's 8th Circuit Court has handed down, it is time for your execution. Your death shall be swift, triggered by your own semen, symbolic of your disdain for women and failure as a man. May the goddess have mercy on your soul."

The head guard produced the special tool that would unlock the genital prison that surrounded Rob's penis and testicles. A few twists and the tight ring around the base of his genitals popped open. The woman slid the cage off his penis, which began swelling immediately. Rob was more turned on than he had ever been, and having been unable to relieve himself for six weeks made his testicles feel like they were about to explode from the pressure of built up sperm.

He looked down at the head guard, standing just before him. She was beautiful. Her stern, disapproving face made him shudder with fear, but his mind had envisioned her naked and writhing underneath him, sweating and heaving to an orgasm from his hard pounding into her pussy. Hanging from the wooden frame cross, arms and legs spread wide, he could do nothing, though his cock stood out and bounced slightly, throbbing from his inner desire.

When the head guard took his cock in hand and slid a small tube a couple of inches inside its hole, Rob almost lost control. The touch of the woman's hands invoked an automatic hip thrusting motion. Rob flushed in humiliation that he had so little control, but feeling this woman holding him, her thumb under the head of his cock, massaging slightly as the tube slid inside, released his uncontrollable desire to orgasm. He wanted nothing more at that moment except to release his seed.

Except that would kill him. It had been explained to him the night before. He was to be electrocuted, but the circuit that conducted the electricity through his body would not close by itself. His own semen would be used to conduct the electricity, complete the circuit, and kill him.  If he didn't orgasm, then he would live. At least for a while. If he had an orgasm and ejaculated, the semen would be carried down the short tube and fill the space between two contacts, allowing the powerful voltage to proceed to his body and end his life.

Once the tube was in place, the warden nodded to the head guard and said, "begin the process."

The head guard looked up at Rob and slowly began to undo her uniform blouse. Rob's eyes grew large as her perfect breasts slowly revealed themselves, one button at a time. His cock was rock hard, and he could feel the sperm in his balls gathering, beginning to move, in spite of the consequences.

The guard's blouse dropped to the floor and she reached behind her back, undoing her bra. With one fluid motion her bra released her breasts and fell to the floor. Rob moaned with mixed fear and delight. The woman was fit and perfect with a hard flat stomach that accentuated her rounded breasts.

The female guard, now topless, produced a small tube of lube which she began spreading slowly over Rob's rock hard cock. She slid her hand up and back on his shaft, slowly stimulating him. Rob felt the sperm gathering and pushing through from his testicles and up into his body. He was going to ejaculate, there was no way he could stop it, in spite of the searing pain and death it would bring.

Slowly, the hand job continued, and then his cock met the guard's breasts as she rubbed the soft flesh over his hardened cock. Pressing her breasts together she slid his member between her globes. Rob closed his eyes and felt the orgasm coming. Sperm was inside him, semen was mixing and building pressure. He was ready.

He tried to stop it, he thought of other men, he thought of his mother, he tried to think of dying and shit and anything that might distract him. But the steady, unrelenting stroking from the beautiful, dominant woman before him was irresistible. She urged him on. He tried to hold back. She stroked him persistently, confident. He clenched and writhed on the cross that held him.

Finally, it happened. There was no choice really; his body simply did what it was designed to to. With sudden, powerful waves of warm pleasure the semen ejaculated, his cock pulsing as the white viscous liquid squirted into the tube.

Instantly, the guard removed her hand, at least partly ruining the orgasm. The pleasure fled but the semen kept coming. There was so much, so much that had built up inside of him. It didn't stop, his muscles kept contracting and more kept squirting out.

In his mind he knew that at any moment, perhaps just a second or two away, he would feel the surge of massive voltage which would set his entire body on fire, convulsing every muscle and destroying his brain. As the orgasm faded, he waited, anticipating the death jolt. Hanging, the warmth of afterglow filling him with both pleasure and dread.

He waited longer. Nothing happened. His semen was still tricking down inside the tube, reaching the contacts. Any moment now. He sobbed, crying out loud; he was afraid of biting his tongue, a silly fear, but he kept his jaw shut anyway. His orgasm was past, he felt no more pleasure except for a distant fading glow, and yet he still hung there, waiting.  It was agony, waiting as his semen trickled down slowly through the tube toward the contacts.

"What's the hold up?" The warden's voice entered his consciousness.

"His semen is a little thick. It's moving slower than some others. It will happen, don't worry." The guard was putting her bra back on, her part of the execution completed. Rob shook uncontrollably on the cross, sobbing, tears running down his cheeks, waiting for the death his own body fluid would bring.

Several minutes passed.

"This is dumb. I want to see him fry. I want to see him jerk around and lose bowel control like the last bastard. Can't you just flip the switch?" The warden was getting impatient.

"Not according to the judges order's and the regulations. He has to set it off with his semen. It's the way it's done."

"Let me at him. I will get more semen out of him. That will do it."  The guard stepped aside as the warden, a pretty woman in her 30s, stood in front of the hanging prisoner.

She took his lubed cock and began stroking. It was still hard. Inside, Rob knew he had much, much more semen to give. He had been masturbating so much, and for so long he had trained himself to orgasm several times a day, sometimes all during one session. The warden stroked him, urging him to give her the semen she wanted, and he felt his body obeying her.

The warden licked his cock, sliding her tongue around the tip of his penis, down to the underside and along the bottom to it's base. Wrapping lips around the hard shaft, she slid back up until her tongue played with the head once again. Rob cried out, "No, please... please don't do this to me... help me, please, oh God, I am going to come again!"

The warden was good. She had cupped his balls, manipulating them as she slid over his sensitive cock, urging his orgasm on. She knew just how to bring on a male climax.

The orgasm came, a second time, barely ten minutes after the first one. Semen came shooting out of Rob's penis, spurting into the tube, forcing more of the white slime down and closer to the electric contacts.

"He's ejaculating. Back off. You don't want to be touching him when he gets the full voltage," the guard warned urgently.  Nevertheless, the warden continued stimulating Rob, demanding every bit of his slime.

Rob convulsed on the wooden beams, thrusting his hips forward, lost in an orgasm that went on and on. The warden, finally satisfied, backed off. Rob continued voluntarily contracting his muscles, trying to get the last of the semen out and into the tube.

The white body fluid slowly slid down the tube and entered a tiny chamber with two contacts. The women watched and waited. Rob's naked body sagged on the cross, slumped down and exhausted from two consecutive orgasms.

Suddenly, every muscle in Rob's body tensed as if it were straining, taught rope. A gurgle came from his mouth as his back arched, hips thrust forward. A slight smell of burning flesh filled the room and a very faint crackling noise could be heard. Rob's cock amazingly hardened and grew even larger than before as his entire body convulsed with the surge of electricity that coursed through him. While his hips shook violently, his cock engorged with blood and bounced in an exaggerated orgasm, ejaculating even more white fluid into the tube, filling it to overflowing.

The voltage continued for more than two minutes, until the head guard disengaged the mechanism. The smell of cooked flesh hung heavy in the air. Rob's body sagged and hung unmoving on the wood frame.

"Wow. That was cool. I've never seen one do that before." The warden was examining the still rock hard cock and massive amount of white semen that had filled the tube and leaked down the sides.

"Neither have I. Glad we have it on video," said the head guard, motioning to the mounted cameras in the room.



Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Punishment That Fits The Crime


He didn’t mind being held for a little while, in this bland gray cell with its bed and toilet, but he had been there for two weeks following the trial. The only contact was with the female guards, who fed him, brought him an occasional book to read, and took him for a shower once a week. They teased him then, stripping him and playing with his body. He didn’t like that, the bitches were like the others, thinking they were better than he.

For millennium women had a place, their natural place in nature, he felt. But in the early 21st century, the females had slowly gained more and more power until they now ran the country; all important or high paying jobs were filled with women, all lawmakers and police were women, and men were relegated to physical labor and serving women in the home. Technically, they had equal rights. But of course… some rights are more equal than others.

So he had begun to take down a few of these girls, putting them in their place. He found them in a dark alley, or behind a store, or where ever a pretty girl seemed to be alone. He was good looking, and well built. He played the submissive role well, drawing them in, until the right time.

Then he raped them.  Forced them down, pushed and shoved and erupted inside of them, leaving his seed inside their bodies, violating them.  For that small moment, justice was served and they had been put in their natural place.

Until he was caught. A silly girl, a young one, had been able to scream for help, and the police had caught him before he was finished.  What an abomination, hauled away in wrist and ankle cuffs by two girls younger than he was.

The trial was quick. Perfunctory. Rapid and with little fuss. He was convicted and sentenced in a matter of 20 minutes. His lawyer (a woman) had not even explained his punishment to him. He still wondered how long he would be locked up in this gray, empty hole.

This time when the guards came, it was a little different. For one thing, there were three of them. The additional one was a tall silky haired brunette, 6 feet tall if she was an inch. Shapely, with good boobs and a nice ass and a really cute face that made her look younger than she probably was. Under the guard’s coveralls he imagined a muscular body, thin and well toned. The kind he liked, the kind that gave him special pleasure by defiling with his body fluids.

“Get up, remove your clothes,” the lead guard barked at him. What was this? She was perhaps the cutest guard he had ever confronted, but she also had that mean glint in her eye. Her delicate hand rested on a nightstick, long fingers curled around its handle, at the ready.

“Why? It isn’t time – uugghh” he grunted when the nightstick slid out from her belt and plowed into his stomach. He bent over, clutching his stomach as the nausea rolled over him.

“Remove your clothes or we will cut them off,” the brunette said quietly.

As soon as he got control, he complied. Unzipping the front of his orange unisex prisoner jumper, he climbed out of it, removing his jailhouse slippers as he did. The lead guard smirked a little as he reached down to pull his underwear over his legs, exposing his male genitals.

It was OK, he thought. They could gawk and wish they had him. He knew he was big, his cock larger than most, hanging well over his balls, swinging heavily as he stood. The brunette moved her nightstick slowly over to his naked body and let the end of it slide up the inside of his thigh until it came in contact with his balls, lifting them slightly. He shuddered with a sudden feeling of vulnerability.  She then pushed his cock to the left, and then the right, as if appraising him.

He started to become erect. The bitch guard was so fucking sweet, he started dreaming what it would be like to slide her out of her outfit and start exploring what was underneath…  until with a soft but painful rap on his balls, she said “OK, let’s go. It’s time.”

Time for what? He thought as they exited his cell and strode down the corridor. Two of the guards walked on either side of him, holding his upper arms to guide him. He knew better than to struggle or run, they were inside several layers of electronically controlled doors which would be impossible to get past. He walked along, feeling the brunette’s presence behind him, his cock still somewhat erect just thinking of her.

They stopped in front of a solid door with no window, but with a heavy lock. With a buzz and a loud clack it opened, and he was taken inside.  A perfectly square, gray room presented itself, barren except for a few basic items.  A small table stood in the middle of the room, containing a couple of items he didn’t recognize. To the side was a flat stretcher, not unlike the backboards paramedics used to immobilize back injury patients (lots of straps on the thing). This stretcher seemed to be bolted to the wall in an upright or standing position. The other wall held a large mirror of the type that made it obvious there were people on the other side, watching him.

“Hey. What’s going on? Does my lawyer – ” his protests didn’t get far, the brunette bitch swung her nightstick hard against the back of his knees, causing him to drop and moan in pain.

“Anthony Pelligro, having been convicted and sentenced by the high court of justice in the southwest district, I hereby carry out said assigned punishment.  Restrain him,” this last she spoke to the other guards, who lifted him up and began strapping him to the hard wooden stretcher. Leather wrapped around his upper arms, wrists and elbows, across his chest, over his hips and each of his thighs, then ankles… and finally his neck. The straps seemed endless, and when they were finished, he was standing upright but unable to move.

“Do you wish a gag or blindfold?”

“No! What are you doing to me? What is this? What is this punishment?” He was angry now, secured as he was, unable to move, his naked body observed by the women guards as well as whomever was on the other side of the mirror in front of him. He could see himself in the mirror, his strong body and large manhood clearly visible. It didn’t give him as much comfort or pride as it once did, strapped on display like this.

The three guards stood back and observed him writhe in his bonds for a moment, and then left the room. He was alone, though he knew someone was watching him through the one-way mirror. He waited, occasionally shifting slightly, trying to get more comfortable. The room grew quiet, silent except for the sound of his steady breathing.

With a loud clack, the door unlocked and opened, and someone entered. Another girl entered, this one a medium sized pretty girl with sandy blond hair, freckles and cute blue eyes. She was not dressed as a guard, but wore a short skirt that exposed long, muscular, smooth legs, and a loose top that buttoned up the front.  The top was unbuttoned, revealing cleavage from smallish but well formed breasts. The overall effect was that of a very cute college student.

The blond smiled at him and approached, stopping by the table. She must not be more than 20 years old, he thought as he scowled at her, hating that he was naked and vulnerable to the whims of the young girl. She was fiddling with something at the table.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” she said in a soft, pleasant voice. For the first time, he felt a chill of fear run through his body as she stepped over to him.

She stood on her toes for a moment, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He smelled a tiny whiff of perfume and her soft hair brushed his naked shoulder. He found himself thinking about what it would be like to take this girl, be inside her, on top of her, feeling her struggle and gasp below him as he plunged into her and ejaculated his sperm deep into her womb.

He felt her take hold of his cock, which had begun to grow erect at the closeness of her body. One of her hands unbuttoned her top, opening to reveal her naked breasts. The other pulled his cock, encouraging it to grow in her soft hands.

The whole experience was eerie, surreal. He was bound and motionless, being observed by unknown persons through a one way mirror while a beautiful young girl stroked him to an erection, stimulating him expertly. It became even more weird when he felt lube or oil being applied to his cock, making her stimulation of him even more effective.

She was giving him a hand job.

Was this his punishment? He wanted to resist, he hated the idea of being forced to erection by this woman, of having his sperm forced from his body without his taking her. She was taking him, sucking the juices from him. His moans of pleasure were half moans of frustration, as he resisted her expert stimulation. His body was responding to her against his will. And she was good… really good… he could already feel his sperm moving through the channels between his legs, preparing itself, gathering for climax and ejaculation from his body into her hands.

She rubbed his slippery cock against her breasts, the underside of his cock head sliding over her nipple. He almost came right then, but he was still resisting. She continued the hand job, smiling up at him, encouraging him. When he could stand it no longer, the sperm deep down gathered pressure, his muscles contracted, and he began pushing, thrusting, the climax building… he was imagining the force of his orgasm spewing his fluid over her face and breasts…

With a hard, cruel force, she grasped his balls firmly in one hand, and in a single practiced motion squeezed them hard and pulled them down, away from his body. Pain shot through his balls and into his hips, and he yelped loudly. With her other hand she pressed hard, pushing and compressing the base of his cock, preventing any ejaculation.

Between the pain in his balls and the pressure squeezing his cock, his orgasm was ruined. He cried out in pain and frustration, a long, loud, bellow. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk….” he cried out.

The cute blond giggled and released his genitals. She went over to the table, and obtained something else, something long, thin and shiny.  He was writhing against his restraints, angry, aroused, and swearing. But he was aware enough to look carefully at what she brought over to him.

It was a simple thin glass rod, or probe. Smiling, she brought her pretty face to his again, and kissed him on the cheek. Taking his cock in her hand once more she stroked it lovingly, bringing it back to its full engorgement.  He moaned, feeling his arousal return, knowing that he could and would come to climax quickly if she allowed it. His cock was still quite slippery from the lube, and he felt her rub the glass rod over his cock, getting it slippery as it did.

His cock was hard, really hard. Stone hard, straining to reach orgasm as she fingered the glans. At his cock’s maximum distention, she took the glass rod and positioned it against the hole at the end, pressing it slowly in. It slid in easily, and stimulated him in a most unnatural way. Her continued delicate stimulation kept him hard as a rock as the glass slid in, until it was inserted to the full length of his cock.

When it was in all the way, the cute girl smiled once again, and repositioned her fingers. Both hands, index finger and thumb squeezing his cock; next to each other.  With a slight but firm force, her fingers bent his cock slightly, breaking off the exposed end of the glass probe. The external part she removed, the rest remained inside his cock.

It hurt; he yelled. The ragged end of the glass tube, stuck deep inside his cock, had poked and penetrated the flesh of his urethra. His cock began to lose its turgid erection, and the slight contraction pressed the urethra against the glass rod even more, causing more pain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck what have you done to me bitch!?” he cried out in pain. Rapidly, she swung one hand back and then slapped him with a surprising force that almost knocked him unconscious.

She then took his still-hard cock, positioned her fingers a little lower down, and bent the flesh once more. The glass probe broke again, and he screamed this time from the pain.

Over and over again, she felt for pieces of the glass rod that were still long enough to break inside his cock. She then took it firmly, squeezed hard, bent the flesh and cracked it in two. When she was done, the glass rod stuck in his cock was in shattered pieces, sharp points and glass shards embedding in his urethral walls, causing him to cry, curse and scream in pain.

His erection was long gone. The remains of the glass probe kept his cock somewhat distended, though it was no longer engorged with blood. A few small drops of blood had oozed from the opening at the end. His shrinking cock had caused more pain, as the flesh shifted and moved against the glass shards inside.

The cruel girl smiled when she completed her work, slapped him once more, hard, and then kissed him goodbye. As she left the room, the guards re-entered and immediately unstrapped his sweaty and pain wracked body. He fell to the ground, curled up in a fetal position, trying to protect what was left of his genitals.

He was dragged back to his cell, sobbing all the way. The pain in his cock was terrible, and felt like it was invading his hips and stomach. When thrown onto his cell floor, he once again curled up, trying to protect what was already damaged beyond recovery.

The tall brunette stood in the doorway, looked down at him, and spoke when he was calm enough to listen.

“Your penis, the tool by which you attacked innocent women, has been irretrievably damaged. The glass inside has torn the flesh, which is becoming infected even as we speak. With both the smashed glass and the swelling from infection blocking your urinary tract, you will not be able to urinate.  This will cause increasing pain over the next two days, and a bladder and kidney infection will set in. This can not be reversed.”

She leaned down, her long, silky brown hair brushing his face and the tears that flowed across his face.

“Listen to me carefully. You now have two options.  You can wait to die from very painful secondary infections of your internal organs. This will take about four or five days. During this time your agony will increase until you pray for death to take you.”

With one hand, she reached down and squeezed his cock, bringing a renewed set of screams. When he quieted, she continued.

“Your other option is simple. Cut off your penis. Stop the bleeding, heal, and you will be able urinate, and maybe even live a normal life. You can work, date, live and love… well… maybe not love. But you can still be a good member of society.  One without a penis of course, unable to rape any more women.”

She took a small knife with a blade about one inch long and placed it on the floor next to his head. “Here is the instrument you can use. It is up to you. We will check on you periodically, and when you choose to remove your cock,” here she made a face of disgust, “we will help you heal.”

The door clanged shut behind her. He lay on the floor, curled up and feeling the sharp pains inside. If he didn't move, it didn't feel too bad. It hurt, and there was some minor bleeding, but he could take it. When he moved, the glass shards poked and penetrated deeper into his flesh, and he cried out with the agony.

Two hours later, the pain in his bladder was as bad as the pain in his cock. He had tried to pee, to release the urine that bloated his belly, but it refused to pass. The glass and swollen flesh prevented it. He rocked on the edge of his bed, wondering if he would have the courage to actually cut off his member. He wondered how much pain it would take for him to do it.

Kidney pain is back pain, he knew this. It hit him the next morning. The pain in his cock was no longer terrible. It simply throbbed and ached. However, he had not urinated in about 20 hours, and the pain in his bladder was excruciating. When the agony extended to his lower back, along with waves of nausea, he knew he had to do something.  The knife lay on the floor, untouched, speaking to him. He stared at it, unable to face what he knew he had to do.

Later that day, the guards checked on him. “Well, well,” said the tall brunette that had supervised his punishment. “He figured out the third option.”

She looked down on his still form laying on the floor of his cell, a large pool of blood already congealing around the open wound in his neck. The bloody knife lay on the floor next to his limp hand. His eyes stared lifelessly at nothing.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Janice's Revenge

The goth girl sat in the coffee shop playing with her ipad, using the free wifi. In the corner of her eye she was watching a couple of guys watching her; she was wearing a tight fitting black knit top that showed her figure, black mid-thigh leather skirt and mesh stockings. Her booted feet were up on the coffee table, giving a nice view of her thighs and a hint of what might be higher.

Jenn enjoyed taunting men. She was lesbian and had no interest in men except to make them squirm and play with their emotions and occasionally their bodies.

Bored, she finished her coffee, dumped the cup in the trash on the way out and headed toward her car. Just as she was fishing for her keys, two clean cut young men approached her and flashed badges.

"Jenna Sykes?" One of the men stated her name officiously.

Jenn paled as the man flashed a badge. She nodded.

"Hands on the hood, palms down." She was guided to the front of her car and forced to bend over it.

"What the fuck is this. You got probable cause? Why are you hassling me?" Jenn was scared and hoped they weren't going to search her car.  Instead they dumped her purse out, sorted through it, and then cuffed her hands behind her back.

"Come with us. We will discuss it at the station."

The drive in the back of the late model plain sedan bothered Jenn. There was something off about this. She had been arrested several times before, and it had never gone quite like this. She wasn't sure whether to be really worried or really suspicious. The cuffs were tight, too, and pressed on the small of her back as they rode along.

"Hey, guys. Tell me whats' going on, and what station we going to? This isn't any place nearby, what is going on, huh?" Jenn was finally figuring out that they were going out of town. And the car she was riding in was too new and nice to be a cop car. She began to have a sinking feeling.

"Just hang on, it will all be explained when we get there." The driver of the car said shortly, and turned down an empty road with sparse trees that wound between hills covered with dry grass. They weren't going to any cop station, that was for sure.

"Read me my rights and arrest me or let me go now!" Jenn snapped.

The car pulled onto a dirt road and stopped next to a beat up Ford. Leaning against the driver's door stood a tall, shapely girl of about 28 with shoulder length brown hair.

Jenn felt all the blood drain out of her head and almost fainted. It was Janice, the tall, overly sensual lesbian in which Jenn was trapped in a hate-hate relationship of desire, lust, and sadism. Jenn had kidnapped and sexually tortured and humiliated Janice more than once, and had so far been protected from retaliation by the fact Janice didn't know where she lived. Obviously, she had been found and Jenn was in for some rough treatment. If it was anything like what she had done to Janice, Jenn was scared.

"Janice, you bitch. What did you do, hire some private detectives to find me or something?" Jenn spat out as the two false cops dragged her out of the car and presented her to the rival lesbian.

"Jenn, Jenn, you shouldn't talk that way. Considering you are mine now." Janice placed one hand on Jenn's face gently in a parody of intimacy and kindness, then grabbed Jenn's long black hair, jerking her head back. She leaned in and kissed Jenn hard and long in an aggressive pseudo-rape of her face.

Janice turned to the two guys. "Take off her clothes," she ordered.

The two guys laughed and began disrobing the sexy goth girl, enjoying the slow revelation of her white flesh. Jenn fought against them, but one of the guys held her tightly while the other unzipped and slid her skirt off. When Jenn tried biting, Janice moved in with a ball gag which slipped easily into Jenn's mouth and filled it.

A belt strapped Jenn's elbows behind her back painfully so that both her wrists and elbows were secured tightly, shoulders pulled back. The three kidnappers began to wriggle the remains of her clothes off. What clothes couldn't come off because of the restraints, Janice cut off with a large pair of shears. Jenn cried out when they cut off her top, "mmpphpmmm mpshjhhpph!!!" It was an expensive top and they had just shredded it. Her bra straps were cut easily, and her firm breasts suddenly popped out, free and swaying as she struggled.

Last to go was her panties. She tried to get up and run, but was pushed back onto the ground as the two men grabbed her ankles and forced her legs apart. They took a leg spreader and attached one end to each of her ankles.  When they were done she was sitting, a little bruised from the struggle, with her legs forced wide apart, arms tightly pinioned behind her, forcing her breasts out, and her back against a tree.

"Thanks guys. I can take it from here." Janice nodded to her two conspirators.

"Awww, come on, Jan. You need our help. We wanna help. Can't we watch?" One of the guys whined, looking at Jenn's naked body as she shook with anger and fear.

"No. I told you, this is between Jenn and me. Thanks for helping. I might let you see the videos, later."

The two men sulked off, getting in their car and leaving a cloud of dust behind them that made Jenn cough into her gag. She looked over at Janice, who was surveying her naked and helpless victim with a look of smug satisfaction.

"Well, Jenn, I guess it is time to begin. I am going to enjoy this, in more ways than one." Janice sauntered over to Jenn, grabbed her hair and pulled her down flat to the ground. She then undid her jeans, pulling them down and off her legs. She straddled Jenn's head, lowering herself onto the ball-gagged face of the pretty goth girl. Janice was wet, thoroughly aroused by her power over the other lesbian and her willingness to exploit it. She sank her bare pussy down onto Jenn's face, pressing slowly harder down and then beginning a slow rubbing motion, back and forth.

Jenn found herself overwhelmed with Janice's crotch pressing down on her face. Janice pressed down hard enough it became impossible for Jenn to breathe, and she began struggling. Janice simply squeezed her legs tighter together and pressed down harder, rubbing her wet flesh over Jenn's ball gagged lips, nose, chin. Every once in a while she slid a little farther than would cover Jenn's face completely and she gasped in a quick breath of air before being suffocated by female flesh once again.

Janice's hips rocked back and forth faster and faster as her arousal increased. Jenn's struggles below her simply increased her arousal and brought her quickly to a warm climax. "Make me cum Jenn... make me cum. That's it. Make me cum... oh..."

She grunted and panted as the wonderful feeling of release flooded her body. Beneath her, Jenn's stomach and chest were heaving in a futile attempt to suck in some air. It felt wonderful to the lesbian on top that her orgasm was coming at the expensive of Jenn's agony.

When the larger lesbian finally rolled off the goth girl pinned beneath her, Jenn gasped air in through her nostrils as hard as she could. Her entire body was crying out for oxygen, and the humiliation at being used by her rival in this way was mortifying. She cried out threats and pleas, but the ball gag obscured most of what she tried to say. Janice just sat and watched her recover, pulling her jeans back on and putting on some heavy work boots.

"Time to get ready for the next stage of our little playtime," Janice talked with Jenn as she took out a rope from her trunk. She straddled Jenn's naked body and sat down on her hips. She then took the pliant rope and started wrapping it around Jenn's right breast. Each circle of rope she placed around the soft breast tissue was pulled tight, causing Jenn's breast to stand out like a purple balloon.

Jenn cried out in pain as the rope cut off blood flow and stretched flesh around her breast. Janice ignored this and started wrapping the rope around Jenn's left breast, causing the same balloon-like distension and bulbous purple appearance. She finished off by making a knot between the two bound boobs so the trailing rope extended from the center of Jenn's chest.

Janice pulled a small backpack out of her trunk and opened it next to where Jenn lay on the ground. "This is the special surprise I have for you. Something really nice I think you will enjoy a lot." From inside the backpack Janice produced a set of wires, a leather harness, and a small black box. The box looked like an electronic device, and Janice attached several wires to it. The other end of the wires were then screwed firmly into one end of a large metal dildo.

It was a TENS unit, or something similar. Electric shock torture. Jenn saw what was happening and began to struggle against her restraints once again, helplessly. Janice smiled and seemed to really enjoy taking the metal dildo and placing it at the entrance to Jenn's vagina; with no lubricant applied, Janice shoved the smooth metal device up inside Jenn's vaginal canal. Jenn squealed in pain as the device rammed home.

A second metal device was produced, but this looked a lot more like a plug. Wires were attached to it. When it was ready, Janice took hold of the leg spreader and forced Jenn's legs up high and back toward her shoulders. This exposed Jenn's lovely cunt and asshole, and moments later the butt plug was shoved deep inside her.

Jenn began to cry, both in fear and anger, as well as humiliation. She was helpless against the bitch, and now both her holes were filled, stretching her flesh wide and painfully. She tried pushing them out, tensing her muscles, but couldn't. Taking no chances, Janice grabbed the leather harness she had removed from the backpack earlier, and put it around Jenn's waist. A final strap went down and over Jenn's crotch, finally coming back up the back, spreading her butt cheeks wide apart, before buckling into the waist strap. There was no way the electrical torture devices would come out now.

The electrical control box was strapped to the front of the waist strap where Jenn could not reach it.

Janice stood before Jenn and grabbed the rope that was firmly fixed to Jenn's purple balloons of breasts. "Now, Jenn. We are going to take a little walk. I am going to unfasten your leg spreader. When I do, we will start walking down this dirt road, and you will follow me. Got it?"

Jenn nodded sullenly. Janice unbuckled one ankle from the spreader, and then the other. As soon as she was free, Jenn struggled to her feet and began running away as fast as she could. Unfortunately, Janice had a solid hold on the rope attached to her breasts and when Jenn reached the end of this rope she felt a sudden, agonizing jerk on her breasts that twisted her around violently and knocked her back down into the dirt. She lay there for a moment, recovering.

"You see, Jenn. Running away from this will just prolong and increase your pain. Now. get up, and follow me. Or, if you prefer, I will tie you to the back of my car and drag you behind it," Janice looked like she almost hoped Jenn would opt for being dragged. But she didn't, she slowly rose to her knees and then stood.

They walked down the rough dirt road about a half mile until they came to an old railroad bridge spanning a shallow ravine. Jenn lagged behind several times, trying to pick her way over the rough, rocky road without hurting her bare feet. Janice took the opportunity to jerk the rope, urging Jenn on by yanking on her breasts. When they reached the bridge Janice positioned Jenn underneath some of the lattice work of the metal bridge supports and threw the rope over a beam above her. Pulling on the rope, Jenn found herself pulled up onto her toes to relieve the pressure on her poor, abused breasts.

"Don't worry dear," Janice said in an almost loving tone to the tormented girl as she stood on tiptoe. "I am not going to hang you by your boobs, though I have thought about it. I have something better in mind."

Several more ropes were pulled from the backpack, which looked nearly empty now. Janice slipped one of these ropes around Jenn's bound arms, behind her back. The other two ropes went around Jenn's ankles, and were loosely attached to the metal bridge supports, with plenty of slack. One she was secured in the manner, Janice pulled on the rope around Jenn's arms. Slowly, Jenn's arms lifted behind her back, higher and higher until her elbows began to point up. Jenn leaned forward to relieve the pressure and pain from the strappado position, but as the rope was pulled further up it was no use. Eventually her feet left the ground, and as she was pulled higher the ropes around her ankles stretched her legs further and further apart.

Jenn tried to scream, but found it was painful. The strappado had an iron grip on her chest and breathing deeply hurt. All the came out was a sort of whimpering, muffled by the ball gag in her mouth.

When Jenn reached the height where her legs were pulled tightly apart, Janice stopped pulling on the strappado rope. She reached up to Jenn's suspended body and untied the breast ropes. Stepping back across the train tracks to observe her handiwork, Janice simply stood and felt the pleasure of Jenn's pain as she hung suspended before her. It felt good to see her in agony.

"Well, I guess we are just about ready for the next step," Janice said conversationally to Jenn. "You see, the TENS unit you are connected to is sound activated. I am going to turn it on now, so don't make a whole lot of noise, OK?"

Janice stepped over to the suspended, naked girl and reached over to the electrical control unit. She flipped it on, and two green lights came on. She then stepped back across the bridge and said "Let's test it, shall we?"

Clap, clap! Janice clapped her hands twice. The sound wasn't very loud, but it was enough to trigger brief impulses to the vaginal and anal probes inside Jenn's body. Jenn felt the sudden burning shocks and yelped in surprise. The yelp set off the unit which shocked her again, longer this time, and Jenn screamed.

The scream set off the electric shocks for several seconds, and Jenn screamed again, writhing as best she could against the bonds as each sound she made rippled back and became painful, burning shocks inside her body. Janice watched and laughed in delight as she watched the vicious cycle. Jenn seemed to be dancing on the bridge, her muscles jerking her this way and that as the device reacted to each noise of pain she made, delivering more shocks.

Finally, Jenn managed to stifle her cries and the shocks stopped. When she was calmed herself, she looked around and saw that Janice was gone, nowhere to be seen. Two HD cameras were set up to record her struggled, but otherwise she was alone.

Making the mistake of yelling for Janice not to leave her there alone from behind her ball gag, the noise set off another series of shocks, which Jenn was able to control faster this time. Her vagina and rectum felt sore and tingly as she hung from the bridge, wondering how long she would be left there.

It wasn't long. In 15 minutes or so, Jenn heard something in the distance that at once encouraged her and then filled her with dread. A train was coming. A train filled with people that might see her and help her... but also a train that would make noise. Lots of it. She hung and waited for the inevitable, hoping for the best.

A few minutes later and she saw the light of the lead engine as it turned a curve approaching the bridge. Moments later, its horn sounded. It was loud. Very loud. A split second later Jenn's cunt and ass lit on fire, a massive shock pulse burning deep inside her. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but then the train started crossing the bridge. It was an Amtrak train, a passenger train that would be carrying people.

The engine passed her, and the noise it made set off the shocks again, this time in a continuous rippling of electrical agony. She felt like a red hot spear had been jammed up her cunt and she had been anally impaled at the same time. Every muscle in her body tensed instinctively, and she bit down on the ball gag, hard.

Clack-clack, clack-clack, the train cars passed by. Jenn writhed in agony at the sound. She had been drooling uncontrollably from the gag, now she lost bladder control as a stream of urine flowed down to the gravel below.

Clack-clack, clack-clack, the train passed her, and finally the last car left the bridge. Jenn's eyes had rolled up inside her head and it took a few seconds after the continuous shocks ceased before she recovered enough to see again. Her muscles, which had contracted hard into an imitation of rigor, began to relax.

After the passing of the Amtrak train, Jenn began to wonder if she would get out of this alive. During her last encounter with Janice she had hung her rival by the neck, nearly suffocating her to unconsciousness. She had later roasted the girl naked above a fire. Either of these tortures could have resulted in Janice's death, though she had been careful not to let it go that far. But would Janice? Was Janice looking for the ultimate revenge?

Tears streamed down the pretty goth girl's face as she endured the pain of her suspension, waiting her fate.

Her fate was a freight train. It came about a half hour later, rumbling and clacking across the bridge, unwittingly triggering the torture of Jenn's pain racked body. Once again her muscles tensed and contracted, the pain shuddered through her lower parts, deep inside her body, and she couldn't help but scream into the gag.  The gag had become her friend, for it was something she could bite; it kept her from biting her tongue.

The freight train was long, perhaps 50 cars or so; and after the engine passed Jenn was shocked for a second each time the huge metal wheels rolled across the rail joints. Clack-clack, clack-clack... the sound came and was accompanied by the jerk-jerk, jerk-jerk of the naked girl's body. Her drool covered her chest and breasts making them shine wetly, and her urine trickled down her inner thighs.

The train had passed by and Jenn was just coming back to her rational senses when Janice appeared.


"Wasn't that exciting? That was just so amazing, watching you jerk and wobble and convulse up here as those trains went by," Janice unbuckled the leather strap that held the dildo and plug in place. She then slid the two probes out of Jenn's body.

"I masturbated the whole damn time. Jenn, you are good, we really need to do this more often!" Janice sounded truly excited as she undid the rope that held Jenn aloft and slowly lowered her to the ground.

"OK, so we are almost done for today. Almost... but I need to take you someplace where you can be found. You sure are filthy. Let's get you someplace you can clean up, ok?" Janice untied the ropes that fixed Jenn's ankles to the bridge. All the rope trailed behind Jenn on the ground, still attached to her arms and legs. Jenn had no strength to resist at that moment and simply lay on the ground, but Janice tied a rope around her neck and insisted she get up and follow. Jenn did her best, trying to keep up even though every muscle in her body protested.

Janice guided Jenn down the banks of the small river the bridge crossed, and then down the flow of the stream for a way. Jenn tried to talk from behind the ball gag a couple of times, but Janice either didn't hear or didn't care. The finally reached a muddy place where the stream's water spread wider.


"Kneel," Janice ordered Jenn. Jenn considered her options. Her arms were still bound securely, and the noose around her neck was pulling tight, cutting off air and blood. She was going to be forced to kneel, either of her own will or because she would lose consciousness from the tight noose. She knelt.

Janice took the ropes attached to Jenn's ankles and pulled them to stakes that had already been placed in the ground under the water. She tied them securely through loops. Jenn sat with her ass and legs in 6 inches of mud as Janice then tied ropes from Jenn's wrists to two more stakes. Jenn was pulled backward and fell into the mud as Janice pulled the ropes tight.

"There you go, Jenn. I think this is a perfect place to leave you. Do you remember when you left me naked, tied to a stake on my mother's front porch at 6 A.M.? Well, I think this is quite possibly fair retribution. There is a hiking trail right over there," she motioned to the closest bank of the river. "Someone will be by soon. But... don't try drinking this water, it's pretty muddy."

Janice leaned down and kissed Jenn's muddy, exhausted face, and then walked away.





Sunday, December 9, 2012

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.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Nonconsentual: Descent Into Insanity


Nonconsensual Part 1
Nonconsensual: Part 2
Nonconsensual: Part 3
Nonconsensual: Part 4


Sean's life had become one of constant servitude and pain.

One evening Jess led him into the living room by his neck leash and told him to kneel before her when she sat on the sofa. He lowered his head, not daring to look into her eyes. The tall brunette was naked except for panties, as she frequently was in the house when there were no guests. Sean desired her more than anything, and her smell alone made his cock strain painfully against the chastity cage.

Jess leaned back and spread her legs slightly, slipping one hand beneath the panties and beginning a slow circular self-stimulation. Sean stayed unmoving before her, catching glimpses as her fingers slowly rubbed her pussy. She was getting wet.

Without warning Jess slapped Sean hard, so hard he almost fell over and his jaw felt like it would snap off. The side of his face stung and burned, his head rocked back and forth and he was disoriented, dizzy. When he was able to regain composure Jess was continuing her masturbation, except slightly faster. Sean saw her fingers paying special attention to her clit, stroking it indirectly but getting closer. Her breathing was getting faster as well.

This continued for another minute or two when Jess took her free hand and slapped Sean again, hard, the open palm of her hand connecting with his cheek and exploding his face with pain. He whimpered slightly. The slaps left his head aching and his face burning. He was humiliated, watching his mistress pleasure herself and using him to increase her arousal.

Another stinging slap rocked his head, and Sean found himself wondering how a simple slap could be so painful. Tears were trickling down his face and his nose was running. In spite of this he was very, very aware of how Jess was now spreading her pussy lips and sliding one finger inside, moving her hips in rhythm to her hand, complimenting and enhancing the movement as her arousal increased and climbed toward climax.

*Whack* Another slap knocked Sean silly, his head buzzing and light. He wasn't able to think, he was just trying not to faint. *Whack*  *Whack* two slaps hit him hard, as Jess moaned and thrust her hips, obviously feeling the onset of her sexual climax. Her moans were matched by Sean's sobs.

Finally, Jess climaxed in front of Sean, her hips shaking, two fingers inside, her hand busily rubbing her pussy as fast as she could. As the orgasm peaked and then subsided, one of her feet came up, planted itself on Sean's chest, and shoved, hard. Sean was kicked over onto the floor, and he lay there hoping there would be no further torment now that Jess was sated.

--------

Shelley had her own ways of humiliating and torturing her submissive male captive. She, too, used Sean's pain and humiliation as a tool to help arouse her. His agony was her delight and sexual pleasure.

When Jess was gone during the evening, Shelley frequently took Sean to the living room and placed him on the floor, wrists and ankles fastened securely behind him. She then took a long piece of Saran wrap and forced it over Sean's face, covering his mouth and nose as tightly as she could.

As Sean struggled to breath and became increasingly frantic, Shelley would spread her legs and force pussy down on his writhing body, sometimes directly on his sealed face. She desperate movements would help stimulate her. His struggling body, gasping for air, was used as a sort of human vibrator to get her closer to orgasm.

Just when Sean's vision was turning black and his brain was going fuzzy, Shelley took off the plastic wrap and allowed him to gulp for air. Once he had refreshed his blood oxygen supply, she placed the wrap over his head again, holding it there and riding his struggling body with her pussy, grinding her clit into his face.  This process repeated, over and over, until Sean's face was wet with tears and he begged with his gasping breath for Shelley to have mercy.

She didn't. The torture ended only after Shelley orgasmed. Twice.

------------

"This one seems to be losing his spark." Shelley mentioned to Jess one night at dinner. Sean was kneeling on the nail board beneath the table and Jess had her feet up on him, pressing him down painfully.

"You think it might be time to allow him to have an orgasm or two, huh?" Jess said casually. This statement made Sean suddenly alert. Jess felt the change in his posture and commented on it.

"HA! This one thinks he understands and wants some gratification. Perhaps it is time. I want a new toy."


That evening, Sean was led down to the basement. The thing was hanging where it always was, its cock as painfully erect as ever. Next to it on the floor were several buckets of a thick white liquid and several very large rolls of gauze. Shelley and Jess led Sean to stand in front of the material, and then with a blinding flash, Sean was knocked down and rendered immobile. He had been hit with a stun gun, and his muscles were twitching, unable to move.

Dazed and unable to comprehend what was happening, Sean lay on the concrete floor as the two women wrapped his body in gauze from head to toe. When he began to move and struggle to get up, they hit him with the stun gun again, and his body shook uncontrollably, allowing them to continue their work.

Once he was covered in gauze, they took rolls of cloth soaked in the thick white mush and began wrapping his body. Beginning with his feet, the wet goo was applied, wrapped around and around, higher and higher.

They positioned his legs apart, not terribly wide but wide enough to guarantee good access to his cock and balls. When they reached his waist, they wrapped the cement mixture around his hips and thighs, but left his genitals hanging free and exposed.

Sean waited until he felt he could struggle more effectively, recovering from the last stun. He suddenly sat up and grabbed Shelley, trying to shove her into Jess. His hands slipped and the maneuver failed; moments later he was hit with a stun from the gun that didn't let up until the painful world went black and he went unconscious.

-------------

Sean woke. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing. He couldn't tell if he was blind or if it was simply dark.

He couldn't move. Any attempt to move any part of his body failed. Even attempts to move his fingers showed that he could only move them a tiny fraction of an inch. His arms stretched out on other side of him, his legs spread apart.

His torso was also unmovable. His back could not bend, his breathing was restricted.

Breathing was possible. There was little else he could do.

He felt a little dizzy. He realized his body was swinging back and forth. He was upright. Swinging. His stomach felt queazy from the movement and he thought he might vomit. It was then that he realized something was intruding through his nose. His left nostril was filled with something. His nose was sore, inside his head was sore, and his throat felt like he had something that could not be swallowed.

It was a feeding tube.

He had been encased in a full body cast; unable to see, hear, or move. Sean felt a scream welling up from inside him, unable to reach full strength because his tight encasement restricted his breathing. Still, he was able to release a short and agonized scream.

In response, he felt something touch his cock. Oh... he felt it now. It was overwhelming. His cock was hard, pulsing, throbbing with lust. It was straining to become larger, restricted only by its own flesh. He sobbed, tears coming from his eyes and soaking into the gauze that covered his face. The touch was a hand, a soft female hand, stroking his hardness. His entire world focused on that feeling, the sensation of pleasure that had been denied him so long and was now intensified beyond all reason.

A sudden sharp pain arrived in his left testicle. He moaned from the pain but the stroking continued. Another sharp pain, in his right testicle. It hurt, terribly, but the pain was mixed with the incredible pleasure of being stroked. He felt the sperm as is began gathering, mixing, preparing for ejaculation.

The pain and pleasure continued, merging and increasing until he was screaming. He couldn't tell what he was screaming about, the pain or the intense pleasure. Perhaps both. Was there a difference? It didn't matter, for all at once the semen erupted and his muscles contracted with a sudden spasm, squirting his body fluid out into the blackness that he no longer could see.

The orgasm was the most intense he had ever felt. The pain of the pins being driven into his balls simply served to increase the sensations. It shattered him, left him limp and weak inside his concrete shell.

-------------

"I like him better this way," Jess commented as Shelley removed the pins from the exposed cock of the new thing in the basement. Semen still oozed from the end of shaft, dripping into a clean pan below.

"He certainly reacted, didn't he?" Shelley removed the last pin and put them into a small case for later use. She gave the concrete figure a slight shove, watching it swing back and forth and then joined Jess as they climbed the stairs.

"So, you want to go hiking this weekend?"

------------

Inside his dark prison, the thing that had been Sean started going insane, hallucinating from the lack of sensory stimulation, body decomposing from the inability to move, his mind losing all foundation of reality.

He hung in darkness until the next time his body would be subjected to the pain and pleasure, which was now all he had, all he was good for.