Chapter 9
The guards have come to the realization that you enjoy most of the abuse they've been heaping on you. That led them to start searching out more and more depraved ways to torture and use you, in hope of finding your breaking point.
One of them stumbled across the work of Dolcett on the internet and wondered if they could do it to you.
As much as the idea of impaling you on a spit and roasting you alive sounded like fun they decided they have to keep you alive. Too much paperwork if you die. And besides they're having far too much fun torturing you to have it end so soon.
Instead, they decide that they are going to impale you in the spit and roast you but only for half an hour.
There's a company picnic coming up for the 4th of July so it's the perfect time to barbecue you.
The picnic is being held in a clearing in the woods. It's warm and sunny and all the guards are relaxed, drinking, and happy. It would be a wholesome scene except for the naked sissy slut bound to the trees at the edge of the clearing. Standing, spread eagled, wrists and ankles tied to two trees.
The fire pit has been lit. They're just waiting for the fire to burn down and the coals to get hot.
While you're waiting to be "cooked" the warm summer breezes caress your naked, slutty, thicc body. Your nipples have grown hard, and your pathetic little cock is starting to stir too.
As the fire starts to die down your untied and led to the picnic table and told to climb up onto it. On your hands and knees, ass in the air, they start to prepare you for roasting.
Your hair is soaked and tied up. Herbs and onions are shoved into your boipussy. For flavour. An apple is pushed into your mouth. Not so much for flavour but only to make you look a like a roasting piglet.
They make you lay flat on the table and a large, round, stake is laid the length of your body. Ropes soon secure you to it. A wooden Frame is laid across your shoulders and you're soon bound to it as well. Lastly, a thick, long wooden stake is pushed deep into your gaping cunt and attached to the spit.
The entire time they're preparing you the guards talk about you in the 3rd person. They refer to you as "her" sometimes, but usually, "it".
Two burly guards grab each end of the spit and hoist you off the table. It's uncomfortable, but not quite painful. More than anything it's humiliating. You're a piece of meat, yet again, for their amusement. This time quite literally.
The heat hits you immediately when they put the spit in its rack. A small motor is going to rotate you over the fire, just like a fucking animal to be consumed.
It doesn't take long for the heat to start making you dizzy and light headed. It's also turning you on.
The heat licking at your useless cock with each rotation. The guards laughing at you and enjoying the spectacle.
After a few minutes they break out the barbecue sauce and start pouring it all over your limp body. Covering you, head to toe in sticky sweet sauce. A bottle gets shoved up your ass and the sauce pours in to mix with the other ingredients already inside you.
You've lost track of time. You're hoping you don't have to endure too much more. You can feel your cock and balls starting to singe. Your tits are glowing hot. The pain is becoming almost too much to take. Your screams and pleading are muffled by the apple in your mouth. Not that any of them would take pity and offer you relief.
The last thing you remember hearing, before you passed out, is one of them saying "Three more minutes and then we'll take the meat off the fire."
You're awakened by a bucket of cold water being thrown on you. Every inch of your body feels like it's been sunburnt. To make matters worse you're covered in sticky sweet barbecue sauce.
The guards want to get you cleaned up a little before the next stage of the festivities bit there's no hose to spray you down with. Then a brilliant idea emerges.
You're tossed on the ground, still tied to the spit, and the four dogs that have been hanging around are called over. They quickly begin licking the sticky sweet sauce off of you. Their rough tongues dragging across your burnt body is agonizing. Because you're a sick fuck, you like it. You start to moan and wiggle around to give the dogs access to more of you. Especially your pathetic little cock.
A couple of the guards notice what you're doing and start to laugh. They point out to everyone that you're fucking enjoying it. Everyone agrees that you're the most depraved, filthy, amoral, piece of fuck meat they've ever seen. They're excited about it. It means they can do anything to you. No matter how depraved, degrading, disgusting, violent, or taboo.
While they are chatting about what to do next, one of the dogs lifts his leg and starts pissing on you. The hot stream feels scalding on your burnt skin. It splashes across your stomach and chest. Some of it gets up around your neck and you open your mouth, hoping to be able to drink some of it to relieve your incredible thirst.
Everyone has gone silent, watching in amazement. When the second dog starts pissing on your chest you wiggle around to take it in the face. The hot dog piss in your mouth giving you relief from the thirst and a fantastic thrill at being able to be so fucking filthy. It's at that moment that the last 2 dogs start pissing all over your hard, but pathetic, cock. Your moans of pleasure leave the guards, and their wives, laughing and cheering.
Because it's the 4th of July the guards have brought along a bunch of flags, firecrackers and decorations to celebrate the day.
The dogs have licked you clean and lost interest in pissing on you so everyone is looking for a new amusement.
It's time to do some decorating.
You're untied from the spit and another bucket of ice cold water is thrown on your limp body. As you lay there, dazed, aroused, humiliated, you wonder what fucked up thing they could possibly have in mind.
A kick to the ribs gets you on your back. A couple more kicks and you're spread eagle in the grass.
One of the wives has brought a bunch of small flags. The paper ones with a wooden stick. She wants to shove them in your piss hole. The only problem is you've gone limp. It would be much easier if your clit was hard. It only takes her a moment to figure out how to get you hard again. She drops her panties, lifts her dress, squats over your face and starts to piss. It works like a charm. You can't help yourself. You open your slut mouth and drink it all down as quickly as you can. The shame and humiliation does what it was intended to do. Your useless cock is nice and hard again.
With her cunt still firmly pressed to your face she begins sliding the stick of the flag down into your cock. You're so embarrassed and ashamed at how much you're loving this treatment.
She manages to push two more flags into your pisshole. As she hops off your face she tells you to get the fuck up. You're exhausted and hesitant. A quick kick in the head and a slap across the face gets your moving. Your struggle to your feet.
She instructs you to show everyone how patriotic you are and to start waving the flags. Your efforts aren't even close to what she wants and she kicks you in the ass, over and over, making you stumble around, and making your faggot clit wiggle. The laughter from the crowd is so fucking humiliating and you wonder what the fuck is wrong with you that you love it.
That's when someone suggests that they should tun you into a proper flag pole.
Chapter 10

Having grown tired of watching your futile attempts to wave the little flags jammed in your pisshole the wives have decided to turn you into a “proper” flag pole.

A shovel is tossed at your feet and you’re ordered to start digging. They want a hole two feet deep and 3 feet wide. And you had better hurry the fuck up. Your efforts are decent to being but because of all the abuse you’ve endured so far today you start to tire and slow down. A crack of the whip then the sting as it bites into your ass. You dig faster. Another crack and another stripe across your sissy ass. You don’t speed up digging but your clit starts to involuntarily grow. This prompts laughter and ridicule from the guards, and particularly, the women. They can’t believe just how much of a pathetic, pain and abuse craving, sissy slut you really are.

Before too long the hole is complete. She shoves you to your knees at the edge of the hole, facing it. Turning to one of the other wives she says, “Jenn, bring the big flag and pole over here. We’re going to do this up right. Real patriotic.” She shoves you forward, so that you fall into the hole. Because of the size of the hole only your upper body fits. Your ass is in the air, sticking straight up. Completely gaping and exposed.

As she hands over the flagpole Jenn says, “I don’t think it’s going to fit. It’s way to big.” It’s not going to matter if it’s too big or not. One way or another it’s going in your cunt. Lubed, dry. No one cares.

The fat, wooden, flag pole is pushed up against the entrance to your cunt and pressure is slowly applied. It’s starting to work its way in. You do your best to relax and push out, to get the pole in your cunt without too much pain and tearing. It helps, but there is still so much of the huge pole to go.

She starts to lose patience with the progress and starts shoving harder and harder. Your cries for her to please stop are, obviously, ignored and you’re told to shut the fuck up and take it. You’re reminded that you’re only there to entertain them. Your pain doesn’t matter. Besides, she says, your hard clit says you’re enjoying it. She makes you admit you like it. You have to yell, loudly, for everyone to hear, that you like having the flag pole shoved up your ass.

Jenn starts to help. Between the two of them they’re able to force the pole deep into your cunt. Judging by how full you feel, you think there’s about two feet of hard wood up inside you. You’re ashamed of yourself for being proud of how much you can take.

Once it’s firmly in place a flag is attached to pole. It gently unfurls in the breeze. The wind playing with the cloth makes the pole move around in your cunt, pushing it from side to side. It feels like the wind is fucking you.

Your told that you cannot let the flag fall. It’s disrespectful. If it falls you’ll be beaten unconscious.
The group goes back to drinking, snacking and playing games, leaving you there. An object to amuse them.
After about half an hour you notice the dogs are sniffing around you, curious as to why you’re there. Realizing you’re not moving much they conclude you’re not a person and start pissing on you, like they would any tree, bush or shrub. At first they piss on your ass, because the flag pole is a natural place for them to piss. Eventually though they piss on your shoulders, back and face. Because you’re in the hole it’s really convenient for them to piss all over you.
Everyone sees it happening but there’s no way they’re going to stop it. It’s way too funny. Hell, not only are they not going to stop it, they’re going to join in. For the next hour you endure an almost non-stop rain of piss. All over your back and ass, all over the back of your head. In your face. So much in your face. Each time someone pisses in your face you open your mouth and drink in as much as you’re able. You try to be subtle about it so they don’t see you drinking it but eventually you’re caught. It’s decided that if you’re going to do that you might was well be a urinal for them for the rest of the evening. From that point on all of the piss, and theres so much because of all the beer drinking, is aimed at your mouth.
The sun is starting to fade from the sky. The coming darkness signals the next stage of the days festivities. The fireworks display is going to be amazing this year!

She loves her nipples tortured,what would you do to them?

I to love torture my slutwife nipples

Chapter 3
This isn't a progressive prison. Quite the opposite. They aren't interested in rehabilitation, only punishment. As a result the guards carry a number of different weapons. Non-lethal but still damn effective. And they need to practice with them regularly. Your prescence offers them a unique opportunity to train using a person, rather than manniquins.
You're walked, naked, through the prison and out into the yard. During the walk your slutty fag body is seen by almost everyone. The prisoners taunt you and mock your tiny fucking clit. They promise that if they ever get their hands on you they'll rape you unconscious and cover you in the cum of real men.
Once in the yard you're hand cuffed to the chain link fence. Both wrists and ankles. Spread eagled. You're completely vulnerable. The warm sun offers a small amount of comfort.
The guards explain that they are going to practice their riot suppression techniques on your sissy body, beginning with nightsticks. They already know they can shove them up your boipussy whenever they want so instead they're going to beat you with them. They focus their attention on your titties. They're dying to know if the nice big implants Daddy bought you are as sensitive as real titties. It turns out they are. Repeated blows to your tits rain down. The pain is incredible. Your crying and begging for mercy has no effect on them. The bruising starts to set in immediately. Just when you think you'll pass out from the pain it stops.
The beating only stops because they're moving on to the next weapon, not because they give a damn about your suffering. The guards unholster their tasers and you realize what's in store for you next.
They each take turns shooting the electrified darts into your soft, girly, body and running the electricity through you. You dance and writhe in place. The pain is excruciating and yet your clit is growing. It has a mind of it's own and it's enjoying the humiliation, torture and pain. It knows this is what you crave. What you deserve.
The guards grow bored simply shooting the tasers at you and decide they should hook them directly up to your useless balls and run the electricity into you. The darts are stabbed into your sack and the trigger pulled. Hundreds of volts run through your pathetic balls and throughout your body. Over and over. Your cries only make them laugh. Your begging for mercy only makes them do it more and more. Eventually you lose control and piss yourself prompting howls of laughter. The humiliation makes you blush from head to toe. It also makes your cock start to grow again.
The next weapon to be unleashed is the bean bag shot gun. Bonus points are going to be awarded for anyone who hits your tits and even more points for hitting you in the clit and balls. There's a very brief conversation among the guards about the risk of doing permanent damage but it's quickly decided no one gives a damn. The first two shots hit your tits knocking the wind out of you. The third shot hits your throat making it almost impossible for you to scream anymore. After that each and every shot is aimed at your clit. Round after round smashes into your crotch. Each one feels like being kicked in the balls. Your legs go limp and you're left hanging by your wrists from the fence like a depraved piece of meat.
A bucket of ice cold water splashes over you, snapping you out of your stupor. You can barely feel your clit anymore. Your balls are swollen to the size of oranges.
The next weapon to be used is rubber bullets. They aren't utilized very often on the prisoners because of the damage they can do. No one cares about the damage they'll do to you.
Again, bonus points are available for hitting you in the tits and crotch. This time around the discussion about damage is a bit more serious. It's agreed a direct hit could destroy your balls. The consensus is that if that happens they'll take you to the prison doctor and have him remove your balls completely. They'll turn you into a total fucking eunuch.
The first couple of shots hit your thighs and stomach. the pain rips through you instantly. The swelling and bruising is also instant. As is the perverse enjoyment you're feeling. Your depraved mind has decided you both deserve and enjoy this treatment. As before, your clit starts to grow at the thought.
Inevitably two shots, in quick succession, hit your balls. Your screams can be heard throughout the entire prison before you fall unconscious.
It takes two buckets of ice cold water splashed over your limp body to revive you this time.
The guards examine your almost ruined clit and balls and decide the doctor can, probably, save them.
That being decided they go get the guards that ride horseback and oversee the prisoners working the farm.
Those guards need practice with their whips. They don't get to use them as often as they'd like so practice is always welcome and you're perfect for their needs.
You're unshackled from the fence and turned around, facing it, and reshackled. The two horseback guards flip a coin to see who goes first. The winner uncoils his 8 ft whip and begins swirling it in the air. With a quick flip of his wrist the whip leaps out and bites your ass. Your screams echo across the yard. Another swoosh and the whip crosses your back. Bright red welts form immediately. The burning sensation radiates out across your back. They start coming faster now. Most of them hit your thicc ass, making you dance and quiver and shake and scream. Eventually it becomes so intense you go numb. Your ass is on fire but now you simply accept that this is what you deserve because you're a sissy slut, pain whore.
After what seems like an eternity you're unshackled and turned around again. The bite of the cuffs into your wrists and ankles is inconsequential compared to the pain rushing through your ass and back.
The second guard begins his turn focused on your titties. Your plump, sensitive, titties feel the sting of the tip of the whip. He's incredibly accurate. Hitting your nipples over and over. They all laugh as you cry and beg him to stop. Instead they encourage him. They want to know if he can make you scream even louder.
He's confident he can. He says he doesn't want.to hit your ball because they're really close to being completely destroyed but he's sure can hit your clit.
Turns out he's right
The whip bites into your useless cock over and over.
Your screams carry for miles. As does their laughter. The worst part though, is that throughout the entire whipping, you cock has been seeping cum. And now that they are done they notice it for the first time.
It's then that they realize what they have on their hands.
Chapter 4
The fact that the prison is also a working farm results in some unique opportunities, and challenges, for the men working it.
The farm provides vegetables and meat for the prison.
It also provides sadistic guards with some creative ways to torture sissy sluts.
For example, the guards know your boipussy can take it deep, because they shoved a whole nightstick up your slutty ass, but they got to wondering how fat a zucchini they could stuff in your gaping hole before you passed out or ripped. Turns out the answer is 10 inches before you screamed so loud it could be heard miles away, and then you passed out. What confused them was that you seemed to be enjoying it up to that point.
They also discovered that your useless faggy body could be used to solve practical problems.
The prisoners were running into issues with fire ants in the soil they were working. The guards realized that you could be used as bait.
You were stripped naked, yet again, (At this point it was rare for you to have clothes on at all. Much quicker to rape you if you're already naked) and taken to the farm field. The walk past the prison yard was both humiliating and thrilling for you. So many men wanting to fuck your sweet little holes. Potentially so much cum for you to swallow or be covered by. So many hard cocks for you to suck. All you could ever want. And you wanted them all.
Just before the guards lead you outside the fence they tie your hands behind your back and put a collar around your neck. A rope is passed through the ring on the collar and handed to a guard on horseback. You can feel the hot sun making your big, fat, titties redder and redder.
The horse starts walking forward and you follow along behind. The rider picks up the pace and you have to start running a little to keep up. The heat and the running has you sweating and gasping.
The rider speeds up a bit more and you have to run hard to keep up. The guards in the truck following you, and rider are laughing at the way your clit is bouncing around as you run. They're also laughing at the way your titties are slamming up and down.
Again the rider speeds up. This time you can't keep up, you stumble and fall. They don't stop. You're being dragged through the dirt into the field. The rocks, gravel and dirt are scraping your titties and, especially, your clit. It hurts so good. You feel like an animal and deep down, much to your shame, you're enjoying it.
Just when you think you can't take anymore it stops.
You're in the middle of the field. The fire ant hill is mere feet away.
They flip you over and cut the rope around your wrists. The guards in the truck get out and rummage around in the back of the truck. They pull out four stakes, a length of rope and a hammer.
You lay, gasping, in the hot southern heat. The scrapes all over your body are on fire. Your clit is throbbing, both from the pain, and the shameful pleasure your feeling. Being exposed and used by these strong, cruel men is making you feel more and more like a sissy fucktoy. Completely empty of masculinity.
The guards have pounded the four stakes into the ground around you. Ropes are wrapped around your wrists and ankles and your stretched, spread eagled, as they tie them to the stakes. You're unable to move, except to wiggle a little. Your pathetic attempts at struggle make your clit flop around uselessly which elicits more laughter. They put a burlap bag over your head and tie a rope tightly around your neck to hold it in place.
The guards have been working quickly. They don't want to be swarmed by the ants, that's your role.
One of the guards grabs a long stick and, just for laughs, hits your clit with it, just ot hear you cry out, before heading toward the ant hill.
He begins poking the hill with the stick. The ants come swarming out and all the guards run for the truck. The guard on horseback takes off at a gallop.
The ants don't take long to find you. Crawling over your arms and legs they begin heading toward your scraped clit. Within seconds they've completely cover your useless clit and begin burrowing down into the shaft.
The guards are about a hundred yards away and yet they can hear you screaming, crying, pleading and begging for release. There's no help coming. You're at the mercy of the insects who are beginning to bite your useless cock and push their way into your sissy ass. It's so easy for them to crawl up your boipussy. It's been fucked so often lately it gapes. They march right up you effortlessly.
The intensity of the pain in your clit and ass has distracted you from the dozens of ants devouring your fat, soft titties.
They're everywhere. On you, in you. Using your useless fucking sissy fag body for their needs. As it should be. Your thicc, feminine, slut body exists only for the pleasure of others, and that includes insects.
Because you're a depraved pain slut your clit starts to grow, making it easier for the ants to enter you.
The guards can't believe you're getting hard. They're glad they decided to record the whole spectacle because otherwise no one would believe it. They can't wait to show it to everyone down at the bar.
Right about the time you start to pass out, from the pain and the exhaustion of screaming and crying non stop for almost an hour relief comes.
They need you alive. Damaged is fine but alive. A 2" hose sprays you with a deluge of cold water sending the ants flying. The hose is shoved into your pussy to flush them out. The Icy cold water shoots into your guts with incredible force.
A stick is pushed into the end of your still hard clit to kill the ants inside. The pain of the stick being jammed into your useless cock makes you finally pass out but not before you hear the guards say they can't wait to do this again with different insects.
Chapter 5
The sunlight through the infirmary window wakes you. You're not sure how long you've been there. You feel good though. There's no signs of the ant bites so you figure you've probably been there a few days.
When the nurse comes in you ask her a few questions. Turns out you've been there three days. They kept you sedated and medicated. That didn't stop the guards from occasionally coming in and sodomizing you anyway. Apparently you moaned like a little bitch even though you were almost completely unconscious.
The knowledge that they used your ass for their amusement and pleasure while you slept, without giving a damn if you enjoyed it, filled you with both shame and arousal. You were a human flashlight for three days, for god only knows how many cocks.
You notice that your skin seems softer and smoother. At first you thought it was because of the treatment for the ant bites. You ask the nurse about it. She says, no, they have, in fact, been pumping you full of hormones. She says she's never seen doses that large before. You lift the sheet and look at your cock. To your shock, surprise and shame it's even smaller than before. So are your balls.
You drift off back to sleep feeling more like a girl than ever before.
Chapter 6
Your recovery is progressing nicely after the ant torture. You've been given a break for a week.
The break consisted of only having to suck every cock put in front of you (dozens and dozens) and being fucked repeatedly, all day and night. Usually one at time but occasionally being gang banged. 6 or 8 cocks filling your boipussy with their hot cum. So much cum it would still be leaking out of you hours later.
It's pointless for you to put clothes on most of the time. When you are allowed clothes they are femmy as possible. Short skirts, crop tops that don't really contain your fat titties, garters and stocking and nothing else. Essentially, they dress you like a sissy slut whore.
At this point you're not even sure you remember your own name. You've been called everything but. Fucktoy, cumdump, meat puppet, whore, slut, faggot, sissy, girl, fuckface, useless, pain pig, ant girl, and a bunch more.
It's reached the point where you don't feel right if you're not sticky from cum or your boipussy is empty. It's come to feel completely natural to be impaled on a real man's cock.
Chapter 7
There's a problem down in the barns. One of the stallions is in heat and there's no mare to breed him to. It will be at least two weeks before they can get a mare in to breed with him. He's become damn near unrideable.
The guards have been discussing it and you're the solution. It's even decided that you are going to suck the stallion off. Some of the guards wanted to let it fuck you but.others were concerned it might destroy you. Not that they give a damn about you. They don't. They just want to keep you alive so they can continue to torture and use you. You're a slutty, depraved, amusement for them.
You're marched down to the barn. Almost every guard on staff has come along to watch and record the perverted spectacle. This is filling you with mixed emotions. It's completely humiliating to be forced to serve the sexual needs of an animal in front of a large crowd of people. On the other hand it's a dream come true to serve the sexual needs of an animal in front of a large crowd of people.
The stallion is walked out into the corral so that the guards will have a good view of your depraved cock sucking. They weren't kidding when they said he was horny. His cock is already getting hard and you haven't even touched it yet.
You drop to your knees beside the stallion and tentatively reach out for his growing cock. It's already 18 inches long and it's only half hard. Stroking it makes it grow quickly to its full 3 foot length. It's beautiful.
The guards are growing impatient. They're yelling for you to quit screwing around and start sucking.
You pull the massive cock to your lips and kiss it. Swirling your tongue around the tip produces pre-cum and the horse starts to settle. You stretch your mouth wide to take as much of the massive head as you can into your slutty mouth. To the surprise of the crowd you can get it in your mouth. Sucking as much as you can, tasting the musk, feeling the heat, hearing the guards calling you filthy names is all combining to turn you on. To your shame, and the amusement and disgust of the guards, your clit starts to grow.
A few more minutes of worshipping the big animals cock and you can start to feel it throb. No one has told you if you're supposed to swallow the cum. You decide that if you're going to be the best, most depraved piece of fuck meat you can possibly be, you should swallow.
With a loud grunt the horse begins to cum. So much hot cum gushes into your mouth. Too much to swallow. It shoots out of your mouth, out your nose an all over your tits. Sputtering, coughing and gagging, on your knees, in the dirt, covered in horse cum, in front of a crowd, you lose control and begin to cum too.
The guards howl with laughter and heap verbal abuse on you.
All you can do is hang your head in shame. And pure, perverted, satisfaction.
Chapter 8
You awaken the next morning, still flush with excitement and shame from yesterday's bestiality show.
The memory of your depravity, and the unbridled lust and perversion, makes your cock start to grow again.
You sucked off a horse in front of a large crowd. You savored its cum in your mouth. Your tits were coated in his hot, sticky jism.
Rather than being repulsed you realize you want more.
Unfortunately for you, today's plans don't include the animals.
There's a section of farm land that isn't draining properly and has become swampy. The prisoners don't want to go in and drain the water because it's full of leeches. That's where you come in.
The guards could bait the leeches with fresh pork but why waste good meat when they can use you.
Once again you're marched, naked through the prison and out to the road to the farm. The name calling and abuse as you pass the prisoners is as vile as ever. Rape threats, humiliating comments about your pathetic little cock, reminders that you are definitely not a man anymore. You're a faggy little sex slave for an entire prison and the people who run it.
As you walk through the fields with the guards, toward the swamp the hot sun beats down on your naked body. It occurs to you, and makes you blush, that you don't have to worry about tan lines.
As you approach the swamp you realize it's bigger than you imagined. There's got to be hundreds of leeches in it.
The guards tie your hands behind your back and order you to start walking into the water. You hesitate momentarily. The slash of a whip across your back gets you moving quickly.
Too quickly. You lose your footing in the thick mud, stumble and fall face first into the water.
Your struggles to turn over roil the water and stir up the mud, releasing the leeches and other bugs living there.
The guards yell at you to get further into the water and to get on your back with your legs spread. This time when you hesitate a rubber bullet is shot at you, hitting you square in the ass. The pain is excruciating and the swelling starts immediately. But you move.
You wade into the water and find a spot where you can submerge your body and still keep your head above water.
It only takes a couple of minutes for the leeches to find you.
At first it tickles as they begin to crawl over your naked, slutty, body.
Then they start to latch on. Initially it's on your thighs and stomach. Then it's your arms and tits.
Eventually they find your cock and your boipussy.
As the first one starts slithering up your cunt you realize they're not just going to use you externally. With your hands tied behind.your back there's no way for you to protect yourself.
There are a least a dozen on your titties. Biting and sucking on your nipples, areola, and soft tit meat.
You've lost track of how many have slipped inside your cunt. You can feel them working their way deep inside you. There's so many it feels like a cock. A live wriggling, biting, cock working deeper and deeper into you.
The assault on your cock distracts you from the damage being done to your boipussy.
At least three of them have worked their way into your urethra and have latched on. The pain is unbelievable and your screams and pleas for mercy echo across the swamp. All it gets is laughter and mocking from the guards. They remind you that you're nothing but meat and this is what meat gets used for.
For three long hours you lay in the water, a fucking plaything for insects. The heat and the loss of blood start to take a toll. Your head is getting light. It's about then that you realize that this is your destiny. A sex slave for vicious perverts. Rape meat for horny prisoners. A fucktoy for an entire barnyard full of animals. A piece of meat, so depraved and filthy that being sexually abused by insects, letting them destroy your ass and pathetic sissy cock, feels right.

Jamilla’s crucifixion

Jamilla was already awake when the sunlight entered her cell. After the Romans had captured her a week ago at the villa of her master, they had locked her up in there. They had stripped her and tied her up tightly, her hands behind her back, she was forced to sit here in this dark cell. She have had a lot of time to think about what has happened, and, more important, the things to come. At first she had been scared to death by the thought of being crucified, but right now she had found peace with it. Jamilla knew what she had done, and she also knew that she deserved nothing better. There was no doubt that, if she was to be killed, it would happen out there for every one to see. She was just to beautiful to let her die in here. After all she was the most beautiful girl in and around the city, In fact the thought of starving in here scared her even more than a public humiliation. Being tied up all the time and at least raped and tortured, imagine taht! No, no, all well considered, crucifixion was the best she could hope for. At least her pain would be over in a few days instead of years. She didn’t dare to think that the soldiers wouldn’t come for her.

But then the door opened and a couple of men gave entered her cell and removed the ropes from her hands and feet. Jamilla felt some sort of relief when she left the cell. They would not let her starve. Thus far she had been very lucky. It was only now that she realized that nobody had abused her until now. She wasn’t raped, she hadn’t been whipped. The fact of being nude don’t scare her, as a slave girl she has experienced this form of humilation many times, it was usual for the female to walk nude trough the city up tot he crucifixion side, while the men are allowed to wear a loincloth.

As they came out of the dark hallways into the inner yard of the camp, Jamilla spotted a long, thin, wooden cross lying on the ground. “Pick it up!” one of the soldiers said. Jamilla walked towards the cross and lifted it on her shoulder. There was no use in trying to resist, which would only make it worse for her. Two soldiers came standing next to her and one of them hung a wooden plate around her neck with her name, her age and her crime carved in it. Jamilla expected them to push her forward in to the streets of the city, but they didn’t. Both of the soldiers were looking at a little door behind them. As Jamilla looked at it as well, she saw an other soldier coming out with a hammer, a ladder and a basket with nails. Long heavy spikes…

“So it ’s going to be a full nailing” Jamilla said to herself. Until now she had hoped that they would only use ropes or at least only nail her hands, but as she could count more than two nails, she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky. The soldier loaded the gear on a donkey and the other two gave Jamilla a gentile push on her shoulder. “Let’s go.” They said and the campgates opened.

Jamilla carried her cross through the narrow streets of the city. It wasn’t very heavy but despite the early hour the sun was already shining hot. As she came closer to the crucifixion site, more and more people were watching and following her, yelling things at her. She noted the views of the men, on her slim body, her well-shaped breasts, with the long nipples. Her master has pierced them years ago, she has to wear rings there, and the nipples has grown considerably. Except her long hair, her body has been shaved completely, even if the pubic hair has started to grow back, her crotch is visible for everyone.

“Look at you, you stupid basterds,” Jamilla said to herself “ shouldn’t you be working? No you just want to see me suffer, you want to hear me scream on the cross, you want to see the extreme fear in my eyes when they nail me to it. Well screw you! You think I’m afraid but I’m not, you think I’ll beg them for mercy, beg them not to nail my feet, but you’re wrong, wrong, wrong! I won’t. In fact I’ll show you that it doesn’t scare me, I’ll show you how a proud girl faces her destiny!”

As she took the last turn to the marketplace, Jamilla felt this strange sensation in her underbelly. She knew she was walking her last few steps ever. On the market place, one of the soldiers gave the order to stop right in the middle of the square. She let her cross slip to the ground, took a few steps back and looked at the people that came to see her humiliation. One soldier held a hand on her shoulder and took back the wooden plate as the other one unpacked the gear. The third one began to declare her verdict and why she deserved it. During that time Jamilla realized that the strange feeling in her underbelly wasn’t fear as she thought it was, but pleasure. Her crotch has become wet, she noticed it. Every single person on the square wanted to see her young, nude body exposed on the cross. She knew she turned on every man that came to see her today, but none of them would ever have her. She would remain an unreachable ideal forever. She knew she could give them a spectacle they would never forget, that would make every other women look like durt.

Right now Jamilla realized that her time had come. The third soldier reached the end of his speech.

Jamilla knew what she had to do, she would show the crowd she was not afraid. Slowly she walked towards the cross, looking at the soldiers. Then she turned around, looked at he crowd and went lying down on her cross. Before one of the soldiers could grab her, she placed both of her wrists on the crossbeam, waiting for the nails.

The soldier that was going to nail her held back his two accompagnons. “No, no, don’t grab her. I want to see if she really can take this.” Jamilla looked at him as he put the first heavy spike right on top of her wrist. There was no one holding her wrists in place, yet she did not pulled them away, when the soldier raised his hammer for the first blow. Jamilla looked closely as the point of the first nail was driven into her wrist. “Aagh!” The pain was more than unbearable, it didn’t just stay in her wrist. Like water spilled on a flat stone, the pain started to run in various directions, all through her body. Yet the nail had only cut a few muscles and flesh. Right now he was only pushing on her wristbones, slightly driving them apart. As much as Jamilla was suffering, she couldn’t move her arms. She could only watch how the hammer came down a second time. This time the nail crushed her wristbones. Jamilla could feel the couldnes of the steel against her bones. Again she could not hold back a short scream. The pain had now turned into a supernatural form of agony. One of the soldiers who was standing next to the cross, noticed how Jamilla was rubbing her beautiful bare feet over the sand in a useless attempt to lighten the pain. Although the nail hadn’t reached the beam yet, she managed to keep her tortured wrist in place. Her most beautiful body was already covered with sweat when the hammer came down for the third time. Finally the nail came out of her wrist again and made his first contact with the crossbeam. Jamilla felt a bit relieved because she thought the wrist part was over. Once the nail was through, it would be easier to bare. But she was wrong. The hardness of the wood made it very hard to finish the job. The executioner needed six more blows to get her wrist fully nailed to the beam, every blow causing Jamilla more and more pain in addition to the already unbearable agony…

At the first blow, Jamilla had pulled back her second wrist. “Aagh!” A short scream escaped her mouth every time the nail went deeper. Finally the last blow was given and the executioner stood up. Shortly he admired his work, then he walked over to the other side of the beam to nail her other wrist. Jamilla didn’t know how she did it, but she had managed not to cry. Although only one of the four nails was in place, she was already covered with sweat. She looked at her unnailed wrist once more, then she placed it on the crossbeam as she saw the executioner approached with the second nail. He looked at her beautiful young face while he went across her wrist with his fingers to locate the bones. When he found the right spot, he place the nail on it, held his hammer high up in the sky. Then he waited for a moment to see if Jamilla really wouldn’t pull down her arm now that she knew what it felt like to have one nailed wrist. Then he started his horrible job.

Jamilla thought she knew what she had to expect, but no one could ever get used to a sudden explosion of pure pain like that. Again her short screams filled the air, again her beautiful bare feet rubbed against the sand, but yet the agony seemed like at least a thousand times worse. Again she felt how the nail crushed some of her bones and drove others apart. It was in this pure sensation of nothing-but-absolute-agony- that Jamilla realized something strange. With every blow she screamed her little “AaAgh’s” as a message to every one on the square that she couldn’t take it any more. But now she realized, as her pain reached a new, horrible peak with every other blow that she wanted more. Though the agony made it quite impossible to keep her wrist in place, as long as the nail hadn’t pinned it to the wood, Jamilla realized she was able to do so, because she loved it. From this moment one, she could kill and love the executioner for what he was doing to her at the same time. She hated and admired him because he was able of hurting her like this. Though her agony reached unknown hights with every blow, she couldn’t wait for the next one. She watched closely how the nail disappeared deeper into her wrist and into the wood. When the executioner stood up after the nailing, Jamilla felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her body was under tension, shivering, excited, despite the heat her nipples remain hard all the time, and she notes that her juice has started to leak.

Jamilla looked at her beautiful nude body as the soldiers made preparations to pull up the cross. With her arms spread out like this above her head and her legs a bit opened to feel the sand under her feet for the last time, both her beautiful small breasts with their long and hard nipples and shaven pubic were exposed to the crowd. Yet Jamilla felt no shame, she felt only pain and a deep desire for more pain. Two soldiers were tying ropes to both ends of the crossbeam while the third one was placing some small pieces of wood at the bottom of the longpole so that the cross wouldn’t slide over the sand when they tried to raise it. Then they attached the ropes to their donkey as well. Then the executioner kneeled down at Jamilla’s feet. He grabbed them by the ankles and measured the length of her legs. He placed her feet on the longpole, right next to each other, so that her legs were slightly bent. He looked at it, changed the pose a bit, released her feet and carved a little bit of wood out of the pole, where he wanted her feet to be when he nailed them. Jamilla had observed his actions very well. For a moment she thought he was going to nail her feet before they raised the cross. She had loved the feeling of his hand around her feet. The two soldiers made the donkey pull up the cross while the executioner made sure the longpole would slip into the hole that was dug for it. As they raised her cross and her feet left the ground for the last time, Jamilla felt how her weight was no longer carried by the thin longpole but only by the two spikes that pierced her wrists. She had to scream. Little yelps of both extreme agony and pleasure escaped her mouth while the donkey was raising her cross. As her cross was almost in a complete vertical position, Jamilla spotted the carve made by the executioner to indicate the intended position of her feet. While the soldiers were making sure the cross wouldn’t fall back if they cut the ropes, Jamilla tried out her final footpose. With her feet against the longpole and her legs opened widely because of the roundness of the longole, she decided that it was both a humiliating and an exciting pose. Jamilla looked at her elegant ankles and her adorable toes. Soon her most beautiful feet would be nailed. To feel once more the pain of really hanging on a cross, she moved her legs away from the longpole, so that they were just hanging on either side of it. Now the executioner placed his ladder against the cross and climbed up to fulfill his duty.

As the executioner reached the final step of the ladder, Jamilla lowered her left foot and placed it right on the spot the executioner wanted it to be. He put the nail right on the most central spot of her foot, slightly adapted its pose so that the toes were really pointing towards the ground. Then he began the nailing. Once again Jamilla experienced a wave of fresh agony running through her body. Again she felt how the nail pushed against the bones of her foot and crushed them with the second blow. Again she let out her little yells every time the nail went a bit deeper. Even when the nail entered the wood after the third blow, she didn’t dare to put any weight on it. Her foot was causing her the same amount of agony as both her wrists. Oooh, she loved crucifixion right now; She thanked the people that invented this heavenly torture from the bottom of her heart as the final blows were given. As the executioner finished the nailing of her left foot, Jamilla felt a bit sad. Now her other foot was the only thing left. After that, her agony would slowly fade away … So she put her other foot right next to her nailed one. The executioner brought out the last nail. Jamilla closed her eyes as her bully raised his hammer. Very intensely she tried to analyze the waves of pain that were caused by the final spike. As the bones of her right foot were crushed she couldn’t hold back a small yelp. Also when she felt how the nail tore the skin of here sole apart, she simply had to release a little “ Ôah!” As the nail was driven further into her foot and the wood of the longpole, Jamilla first realized she was being put to death in the most cruel, horrible and agonizing way known in the whole of the Roman Empire, and that she just loved it. The soldier smashed the nail a bit deeper for the last time. Then he went down a few steps and nailed the wooden plate that quoted Jamill’s crime, name and age to the longpole, right underneath her beautiful, nailed feet. “Jamilla, twenty one year old, blonde slave, murder, theft and arson.” Then he stepped down, took away his ladder and together with one of his fellows he went back to the camp. The third one staid to guard Jamilla so that no one would get her down of there.

Although it had seamed a lot longer, her crucifixion had only taken half an hour. Now most of the spectators resumed their work on the market. For Jamilla, the real horror of crucifixion was about to begin. Right now she realized that the pain in her wrists became too much to bare, even for someone who loved it, so Jamilla had to push up on her feet. Putting her entire weight on the nails piercing her feet caused her a wonderful amount of pain, yet she had to let go, if she didn’t want to faint, and she fell back on her wrists. But very soon, again, the pain in her wrists forced her to retry the push up. The Romans had spiked her in a very ingenious way. By bending her legs just a little bit, Jamilla had to face the problem where to put her weight, but she couldn’t suffocate that easy. As she looked around to see what the other people who had watched her crucifixion were doing. Some people were still looking at her, pointing out to each other how well she was nailed. Jamilla herself was also admiring the work of her bully. While she was at it, she saw that she wasn’t bleeding as much as she thought. The only blood Yamilla saw was the blood that had run out of the wounds when the nails were still driven in. Meanwhile the soldier that staid behind walked over to the fountain and took a drink. He didn’t return to the cross but went strait to one of the stalls on the market. He decided to watch over her from there, in the shadow. On the cross, Jamilla was exposed to the sun. Very slowly her bronzed skin was burning. As she saw the guard take a drink, Jamilla became aware of her own thirst. She wondered whether she could ask for some water as well. After a while her thirst became so big she decided to risk it. “Can…can I have some water to, please…?” she moaned. The guard fulfilled her request and put a cup filled with water on the top of his spear. Jamilla drunk it all and asked for more several times, especially around noon when the sun was burning every drop of liquid out of her.

Jamilla now realized that the pain wasn’t fading away at all. She didn’t know why but the spikes kept hurting her as much as they did when they were driven into place. She looked once more to the nails piercing her body. As she could clearly feel, al four of them were smashed through some bones. “I wonder…” she thought. Jamilla tried to move her fingers, but some of them didn’t react to her command. Also her toes weren’t completely movable. The sight of the spikes entering her feet and wrists fascinated her. Jamilla tried to reach the head of the nails in her wrists. Her fingers could only touch the top of the nails. Her excitement still remains, and her crotch has started to leak, she notes the liquid running down the lips, and the it drops down to the sand.

As the sun went down and the market became empty, Jamilla first realized she would never leave her cross again. Even her corpse would be left up there after she died. She wondered what it would be like, if she died. Would she pass out and never awake again? She didn’t know.

Jamilla’s first night on the cross was filled with agony. There was now way of getting some sleep up there. If the pain didn’t keep her awake, then the coldness of the night would make sure she didn’t sleep. The hours passed slowly, way to slowly, but when Jamilla finally thought she was used to it, the first rays of sunlight announced a new day….

As the market became crowded again, people returned to her cross to see how she was doing. "You 're realy enjoying this, aren't you?" Jamilla managed to ask her public. Of course they did. "Guess what," Jamilla moaned as a reply, "so do I..."

According to some spectators who had seen a few crucifixions already, Jamilla was “dancing” real nice. She was pushing herself up on the spikes piercing her feet and falling back on her wrists al the time. Even if she didn’t had to push up to get some fresh air, she still forced herself to do so. It largely increased her pain. It was her second day on the cross, but Jamilla felt far from exhausted. Now she knew why she hadn’t been raped or whipped: If she were still strong when they nailed her to her cross, she would last longer. Once again Jamilla looked at her beautiful body. The nails fascinated her, how they disappeared in her wrists and feet. Only four nails, but they put her in hell. Right now the thought crossed her mind that despite of the fact that she had been drinking quite a lot yesterday, she didn’t have to pee. The sun burned away every single drop of liquid, even the water from the fountain. In the afternoon, Jamilla felt how she was becoming weaker and weaker, how the pain slowly faded. Right now she wished she could live through it al again, from the cell, to the first nail, the moment of triumph when she exposed her completely nude body to the overwhelmed crowd, the nailing of her wrists and feet, her complete crucifixion. Later that day Jamilla lost conscience. She didn’t saw how a rich salesman paid of the guarding soldier and ordered his men to get Jamilla down from her cross. She didn’t even realized the nails were pulled out.

Jamilla looked out of the window as the sun came up. Six months had passed since her crucifixion. Her wounds had completely healed. The salesman had dropped her of at one of his houses in a small village while she was still unconscious. An other girl slave had told her everything. She had never seen him until now. He was standing in the inner yard, saying goodbye to someone. Then he entered Jamilla’s room. “You’re so beautiful” he said. “You’re so beautiful that you can ask me anything. Ask me and I’ll do it!” Jamilla looked at him as he touched her face. “Well, there is one thing you could do…” She answered.

Later that morning, the entire village watched how Jamilla publicly undressed herself. Completely nude, she walked over to the cross and went lying down on it. She smiled at the salesman as he approached with the hammer and the nails. “Nail me!” she said.

Written by myself

LITTLE TEASE NEXT DOOR Part 2

Shae woke up the next morning alone in her bed feeling very hungover and her body was sore. Her head was pounding. *Geez what happened last night* she thought. She was unable to recall right away how she even made it home. Slowly it started coming back to her. As she sat up she had visions of getting fucked. Hardcore fucked. By Joe.

*Wait Did that actually happen? Was it a dream?*

She looked under her bed and pulled out her special toy box. Everything seemed to be in its place. She grabs her cell phone and texts her best friend asking what time they left the bar that night and when did she drop her off at her house.

Her pussy was sore. It couldn't have been a dream.

She thought maybe she was losing her mind. She thought about going next door and asking him about it. How awkward of a conversation would that be if he didn't fuck her to madness last night.

She was feeling conflicted. If he raped me, why am dripping wet thinking about it.

If he didn't rape me why am I thinking so much about him doing it?

She took a shower letting the hot water relax her back muscles a bit before lathering her body in soap. She ran her hands all over and found a couple of bruises on her wrists. *There's no way I was dreaming* she thought.

She got out of the shower and got dressed and decided she'd just go over and ask him casually how his night went and if she remembered correctly about him helping her with her keys to the door.

She put on a cute little yellow low cut sundress and sandals and she walked over to Joe's house. Surprisingly he was not on his porch. She rings the doorbell to his big brick 2 story house that dwarfed her little 1 bedroom 1 bath house.

She was about to ring the doorbell again when she heard his footsteps nearing the door. He answered the door with a smile on his face, "Well hello there Shae, what can I do for you?"

"I just had a question" He gestured for her to come inside which she hesitates but still walks in. He closes the door behind them and he leads her to the couch in the living room to have a seat.

"So, what was your question?" he asks sitting in the recliner chair beside the couch.

Shae clears her throat, "Well, I mean this is gonna sound silly, but I had this really vivid crazy dream last night."

"Did you? " He says with a devious grin.

"You were in it." she says. Her voice suddenly growing hoarse and giving her a bit of a cough.

"Before you tell me about it, would you like something to drink?" he asks politely.

"Yes please. Sorry I am kind of dehydrated."

"It's no problem"

He comes back with a blue gatorade and Shae guzzles a good majority of it.

"Better?" he asks.

"Yes, thank you so much." She answers.

"Now, about this vivid crazy dream?"

"Yes well, I uhm, came home drunk from the bar last night."

"Oh. Only that part wasn't a dream. I saw you bust your ass last night and lose your keys. Remember?"

Shae paused and said, "Oh so that part actually..?"

He nodded his head slowly while smiling deviously at her. Shae began to feel kind of faint and dizzy.

"So did you come. In-into my, into th-the house I mean." She said. Her vision was reducing to a colorful blur. Then it begins to fade.

"Oh I came sweetie. I came all up in that pussy and made it mine remember?" he says moving himself to the couch closer to her as her eyes start closing and she can hardly hold herself upwards.

Shae heard him but she was barely clinging to consciousness. She weakly whispers "No.."

"I'm your fucking daddy. I can't believe you forgot so soon. That's okay, your tight ass is about to get a new lesson." He tells her just as she falls over slumped over on his couch.

"He flips her onto her back and rips open the dress to get those perfect titties out to play again.

"This time baby, you're not leaving. You're gonna be just the prettiest little basement & bedroom decoration." He says with both hands grabbing her tits massaging them and flicking her pink little nipples about as he does.

"You're fucking mine."

ー

Shae's eyes felt like they weighed more than she did. There was a very dull LED light on the other side of a wall that she could see. She looked around and let her eyes adjust. She felt cold and when she went to move she realized that she was laying on a mattress in a basement chained by one of her ankles. She had her little dress on still but it was torn at the chest leaving her cleavage out on display. She grabbed the chain and followed it to find it was attached to a metal U ring tie down that was concreted to the ground.

*Oh my God* she thought.

Then she exploded with rage.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE! JOE!! JOE YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK! LET ME GO!! HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!"

Joe appears from around the wall.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of her mattress didn't she?" He says calmly.

"Why?"

"I told you, you're fucking mine."

"You can't just keep me here. People will be looking for me."

"And?"

"Please let me-"

"Shut the fuck up" He said sternly as he started to walk over. Shae backed up and tripped falling back on the mattress. Joe suddenly lunged at her pinning her down with his body as she squirmed and struggled beneath him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

"Who fucking owns you."

"Fuck you!"

*Slap*

"Who's your fucking daddy bitch?"

"You're not my fucking daddy!"

*Slap*

"That's not what you were screaming last night."

"Fuck you! I was drunk!"

*slap"

"Do you think that matters? You want this. Why else would you have come over? You wanted daddy to rape you again. You know that's what you want , what you deserve. What you fucking exist for."

"Noo" She whines with her face throbbing from him slapping her.

"Oh yes. Daddy's gonna hurt you with his big cock every fucking day and you're gonna fucking love it."

Shae softly crying softly whispering "No, no..."

Joe ignores her and he puts her two wrists together to keep them pinned with one hand above her head as his free hand starts to grope her titties. Her nipples were still sore from being pulled and twisted so hard the night before. Everytime he touched them they send a shockwave of pain and pleasure throughout her whole body.

He reached down between her legs rubbing her pussy through her little dress and panties.

"Mmmm this is no longer yours. It is mine. It will be shaved when I say, played with as I say and fucked as I say. Do you understand me?"

Shae doesn't answer but instead just stares up at him with watery fear & hate filled eyes.

"Perhaps I just need to intoxicate you again to get you to look at me with those submissive eyes once again. Or maybe some heavy drugging so I can brainwash you. Hmm? Would you like that?" he says.

She shakes her head no. He smiles and says too bad.

Stands up and forces her up by her hair and over to a sawhorse sex bench in the corner with a mirror in front of it. He forces her to bend over it and he straps her down facing the mirror.

"I made you a promise last night that I was gonna take every hole on your body. I have yet to fulfil that promise my little tease."

Joe takes off his clothes as his eyes remained locked on her, admiring how good she looks tied bent over that sawhorse with that helpless expression on her face. His cock springs free and he begins to stroke it. Then he walks up and slaps it on her face a few times ordering her to open her mouth. She hesitates at first until Joe reared his hand back to slap her again and so she opens her mouth.

Joe slams right into her throat making her gag hard on his cock. He had his hands on each side of her head to make sure she choked on his cock properly. "Mmmm you can take it further down your throat than that. Relax your throat and this face fucking will be easier on you."

What choice did she have? She tried her best to relax her throat so his cock would slide down it easier. She hated obeying him but really she didn't want to puke all over him either. He had his cock going in and out of the back of her throat to where she was literally swallowing the head of his cock with each thrust. Drool was all over and her eyes were watering like crazy. She looked up at him with those watery eyes when he barked a command at her to do so and when she did he'd look down into them with awe as if her almost suffocating on his cock was the most precious sight in the world to him.

"You better not waste a fucking drop of my cum little girl or daddy is going to punish you hard" Her eyes widen as she didn't expect him to cum in her mouth just yet but before she could even take another gasp of air he grabbed her head and pressed it hard down onto his cock as she felt his hot cum shooting down her throat hole.

"Swallow baby. Swallow it! Yeahhh!"

Shae felt so filthy.

"Good girl he said finally releasing her head and he walked away from her over to a drawer where he pulled out a dildo, a ball gag and a vibrating wand.

"Since you were a good girl, I am going to reward you."

She looked at him curious as to what he was going to do while still adorned with her helpless expression. Oh how Joe loved his personal fuck toy.

"Open"

Shae opens her mouth to accept the ball gag into it. Then Joe sets up the wand on her clit and ties it to where it can't move and then he rubs the dildo on her asshole and shae squirmed in protest. He laughed and suddenly shoved it into her pussy, fucking her with it a bit as he flipped on the wand. Fuck it felt so good. No matter how she wanted to deny it he was going to make her cum for him yet again.

Joe could tell from her gagged moans and the movement of her body as he played with her that she was about to have an orgasm ripping through her entire body. But he suddenly stopped, pulling the dildo out and turned the vibrator off, denying her the orgasm.

Oh did this piss Shae off. She let out a moan full of distress, need and a bratty "But whyy?!" sound to it. Joe laughed and asked "Aww. Poor baby girl doesn't like being denied orgasms now does she?"

He laughs deviously stroking his big already hard again cock.

"Dont worry baby" Joe then spits on her asshole and Shae whimpers and shakes her head no, knowing she's about to have her virgin asshole taken by Joes porn star sized cock. She knew his girth would rip her asshole and stretch her to fit him inside. She felt him rub the tip at her tight hole.

*Oh god! No!*

She struggled like crazy in her restraints and joe took some of Shae's wetness up from her pussy to her asshole as Shaes anticipatory whining and pleading grew louder. With one hard merciless thrust he plunged his huge cock deep into her asshole and turned her whines into loud screams. She never felt so helpless, filthy and in pain as he ripped her ass with his cock. As he started pulling out it hurt even worse but as soon as he got his cock to where the tip was almost out of her hole he rammed it right back in.

She screams again and whimpers as joe starts to steadily fuck her asshole.

"Oh fuck yeah baby take this fucking dick!"

He suddenly rams the dildo back in her pussy at the same time making Shae let out the most perfect surprised helpless cry then he flipped the wand back on.

Shae couldnt take it, feeling so full with all of her holes were currently filled with dick, dildo and a gag. It was overwhelming. She felt it coming though. An orgasm with the most torturous intensity she's ever experienced. Joe seeing her body tense ready to release, gave her that release with the the touch of the button turning the wand on hi.

Shae's orgasm ripped through from her toes through to the tip of her head. Her body convulsed and her mind was absent any thought other than that of the hardest orgasm she has ever had in her life that continued to ripple through her body sending after shock like shudders.

The clenching of her hole on his cock had him on the verge of cuming deep in her ass.

It was when he saw the look of submission in her eyes again that he finally filled her ass with his cum.

He moans out as he feels his cock start spewing cum into her. She was his. She is property. His property. A fucking toy to be kept, used, put on display.... And the perfect specimen to breed.

Eve’s Cell
Eve woke up after a short time of sleep, for her existed no differences anymore between day or night. The room was lighted by a twilight, the source of the light invisible above her. She was laying on her side on a bed made of concrete, only covered by a plastic mattress, it was dirty, even when she entered the cell long ago, and she could smell the odor of the last prisoner who had rested here. Now her body excretions had covered it even more. Carefully positioning her body upright, she seated slowly up. She was a little cold, because she was completely nude, exposed to humid and mild-temperatured environment of the dungeon. When she was imprisoned long ago, she was forced to strip and never received any sort of clothes anymore.
But she was not completely bare: Shackles, chains and rings were fixed on her body. First there was a steel belt on her waist, containing various rings and eyebolts around it's circumference. Her slender wrists were also shackled, the hands were joined in front of her body, each wrist circled by a bright metal cuff, pressing firmly in the skin, the cuffs were joined by a metal bar, with a short chain which was fixed at the belt. So her hands were hold in the same position the whole time. She had no chance to move them up or down. Also her thumbs had been fixed together by cuffs, covering half of each finger, the cuffs were welded together, so she has not possibility to move them. She moves her hands and fingers a little bit, they are swollen, cold and numb, and the pain begins to pass trough them. She feels the constant pressure of the hard metal into her tortured skin. Looking down on her legs, she notices her ankles, which were locked in the same way, lying side by side, a bride shackle running around each ankle. From between her feet, a longer chain is running down to the floor, connecting to an eyebolt in the center of it. She moved her feet up and down, it was difficult, because also her big toes were joined, like her thumbs, swollen and numb.
When she moved her upper body, she noticed the weight of the small chain which connected her nipple rings. When she was brought in the dungeon, they pierced her nipples, with really huge needles and then fixed the rings there, each one shining clearly and with a reasonable weight. After attaching the chain between them, every movement of her body is transmitted directly to her nipples, which were erect and hard most of the time. They had grown up, meanwhile her breast had got smaller because of the weight loss.
After sitting up she moved her hands and feet more and more. They are cold and numb in her so-called morning, she has to reanimate them. When they had closed the small and very tight shackles around her wrists and ankles them, by welding, it had been necessary to press the metal firmly together. After a while, the skin was bruised by the constant pressure, and circular wounds developed. Her hands and feet began to swell on, the shackles were cutting even more in the skin, and she lived very painful days. But after a while, the situation got better, now the intense swelling had gone, and the pain was bearable. At the borders of the cuffs, the bruised skin is covered with crusts and old blood.
Then she stood up upon her feet and the pain at her ankles got worse and she moaned. She looked down at her slim legs, her once slender and now swollen ankles, and her slightly swollen and blueish feet. She moves up and down on her toes, cautiously, feeling the throbbing of the hard metal on the bones and tendons of her ankles. What a feeling! She wore these shackles since a long time, it must be years, and will do it for the rest of her life. She imagined that there must be more cells und other prisoners, shackled the same way like her. This idea excited her a little bit. Sliding slowly on her soles, straining against the weight of her chains and against the pain, Amber moved to the other wall of her cell. She did not know how long she has been imprisoned in this dungeon, but it mattered little. She was not sentenced, and was not counting her days. She would spend the rest of her life in this cell. Her shackles and the waist belt had no locks, they had been welded on to her body long ago. She has not seen her jailors since she was locked into her cell long ago- food and water is dropped from a chute into a basin in the side of her cell. She had to eat and drink like an animal, bending her body forward.Dragging her ankle chain, connected to the center of her prison, she does her daily, slow lap around and around the cell. It was the only exercise she got, and the only way to fend off the decease of her body.
After a number of laps, finally squatted down against the back, stone, moist wall of the cell. Extending her legs, she stared down at her feet. She always has been proud of them, slender and elegant feet with long toes. Now, they have changed their aspect, her ankles swollen and covered with the scaring crusts. What a torture! She slowly raised her bare feet, higher and higher, until the sudden jerk of the chain restricted any further freedom. Tears started falling from her eyes. She furiously pulled on her wrists, before jerking them up against the chains repeatedly. She sobbed and cried in frustration, her struggle was in vain, there were no chance to get free. Still crying, she returned to her bed of straw in the corner of the cell. Her wrists and ankles are on fire now, hurting like hell. Blood is running down from crusts which have been broken. From now on she avoided any movement of her body. The cold was coming back slowly, also the numbness, beginning in her fingers and toes. Later her hands and feet would feel like being frozen. If she started to move them, the pain will come backYears and years from now, she would still be locked in this dungeon forever chained and shackled, never to see freedom.

I am a 34 year old woman, and I am a supervisor in a call centre.

Recently I caught one of my subordinates - a stupid 19 yo kid - downloading, while at work, the sort of stuff that, if reported properly, would get him fired and possibly reported to the police if HR is having a pissy day.

So I made a deal that rather than reporting the matter I would punish him myself, and he would have to take the punishment - if not, the deal is off, and I report him to HR and IT.

I told him to come to my house this Friday night. My son (12 yo) was sleeping over at a friend's house so that made things easier. I was wearing one of my more severe business suits.

He was very nervous when he showed up, I would not tell him anything about what I have in mind.

I told him to come upstairs with me, and once in my bedroom and sat down on the bed and told him to take his pants off. "Now!"

So he took his pants off. "And your underpants!" He was just so not sure what was going on, he was turning red, he was trembling, he looked like he was about to cry. "Or I talk to HR on Monday." So he took his underpants off.

Then I told him to take the belt out of his pants and hand it to me. He figured out now what I was going to do and started begging and bawling like a little frightened boy. But he handed me the belt and I told him to put himself over my lap with his bum up. He did as he was told.

He asked him how many times I am going to hit him and I said until he understands why what he did is wrong. He told me that he already understands it and I whacked his bare ass with the belt and told him no he does not. That raised a nice red welt, and he was totally bawling now like a little boy. I let him have it a few more times with the belt. He was bawling and begging me to stop and telling me that he is sorry.

Then I switched to using my hand. I kept going until his ass was all nice and red and he was crying so hard he had trouble catching his breath. He also had a major boner. I stopped, told him to get and and get the bottle of skin lotion off the bedside table. Then I told him to get back into position and this time I gently rubbed the lotion on his ass - skin lotion enriched with vitamin E - the best thing to use after a spanking.

Then I had him lie down on the bed and I cuddled him until he calmed down. He put his arms around me and kept telling me that he is sorry and he will never do that again - he clung to me like a frightened and contrite little boy. He was still crying a little and I brushed tears off his face and looked into his eyes and told him I know what little boys need. I took off my jacked and blouse and my bra, and held him to my breast and he started sucking my nipple like a baby.

I felt him stop crying and relax - I do know what little boys want. I also started getting aroused myself - I love getting my nipples sucked. And I could feel his hard cock against me. I reached down and stroked it and asked him if he wanted to cum. He said "Yes mommy" - I did not tell him to call him that but he obviously knew his place. He then realized what he just said and started sputtering and I said that its OK, he I know little boys need mommy, and I will be his mommy tonight.

So he calmed down again, and I asked him to help mommy to cum first, I asked him to eat my pussy. So he took of my skirt and panties and went down on me and made me cum. Then I asked him if he wanted to fuck mommy and he said yes, and I told him that if he cums before I tell him to I will spank him again, and I pulled him on top of me and he started fucking me.

I had him slow down - I like the feeling of cock inside me but rapid thrusting doesn't do anything for me - and we had a nice and gentle fuck. I could feel he was going to cum no matter what so I told him to cum in me - I did not want to torture him.

Then I cuddled him and we talked and I knew he was genuinely sorry and would behave himself - especially when I told him that if he is good, he can fuck mommy every Friday night.

I think we have the beginning of something beautiful here.

Torturing my poor nipples

Pauline The Slut - Part 5: Punished

When I got home I changed out of the dress, put on my underwear, a T-shirt and some leggings. I curled up on the bed and tried to make sense of everything that had happened me. My life as a happy, respectable mother and wife seemed to be over. My husband had done things to me that I had never ever thought of. I had become his sex slave.

It was getting late. I went to make dinner. Just after 7 I heard him open the door. "Where are you slut." I hurried to meet him. When he saw me his face filled with anger. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the living room. He ripped the T-shirt off me and threw me across the back of a chair. Then my leggings were pulled down. I heard him unbuckle his belt. I began to panic and tried to get up. He pushed me down. The belt flew through the air and smacked across my buttocks. The lashes came continuously as he said "You stupid slut. I told you what you were to wear in the house and you have disobeyed me, slut." 

The lashes came hard and fast. They seemed to go on forever. My screams turned into cries of pain as I nearly passed out. When he finished he unhooked my bra and grabbed my two nipples and pinched and pulled them. My mind was overloaded with the pain.

He kicked my legs apart and plunged his cock into my ass while continuing to torture my nipples. My screams were deafening. He pounded me harder. I could feel his balls slap against me. His cock was now completely buried up my ass. After what seemed like hours his cum poured out into my ass. 

"What are you."

"I'm Pauline and I'm a slut."

He grabbed me by the hair again, pulled me off the chair and spun me around to face him. "That's right. You're nothing but a slut. Never forget that and never disobey me again. You're my fuck toy, to be used for my pleasure and entertainment. You'll do everything I want without complaint. Now get down on your knees and clean my cock."

I was puzzled. What did he mean, clean his cock. I went to go to the bathroom to get a towel. "Where are you going slut."

"I'm going to get a towel"

"On your knees and use your mouth to clean it."

"No. That's disgusting and dirty. It will have poo on it."

He grabbed his belt and my hair with his other hand. "No. Please don't." I begged, expecting the belt across my arse.

"I told you not to disobey me again." As he raised the belt above his head I looked on in disbelief as the belt came down across my breasts. The pain was instant. I screamed as I watched the belt fly through the air again and inflict another lash to my breasts, then another and another.

"I'll do it." I cried as he raised his hand again.

"What will you do." he asked cruelly.

"I'll clean your cock." The belt lashed my breasts. "Ahhhh."

"You'll clean the shit off my cock."

"Yes, I'll clean the shit off your cock." He pushed me down and moved his cock in front of my face. I could smell his cum mixed with my shit. I felt sick. He pushed it against my lips. I eventually opened my mouth and he stuck it in.

"Now suck it good and use your tongue. Get it nice and clean." I struggled not to throw up. The taste of cum mixed with my shit was making my stomach churn. I worked hard to get finished. He held my head between his two hands and pushed his semi-erect cock all the way in. I ran my tongue all over his cock. After several minutes he pulled out.

"I'm going for a shower and will be down for dinner in 20 minutes." As he left I ran to the kitchen sink and threw up.

While he showered I cleaned myself up, put on a skirt, blouse and heels. I then got the table ready for dinner.

When he came down I put the dinner on the table. I was about to sit down when he came over, took my plate and put it on the floor beside his chair.

"You will eat on the floor from now on." I took my knife and fork. "Leave them there. Use your mouth like the bitch slut you are." I felt crushed. I got down on the floor beside him. "Go on, eat." I stuck my face into the plate and started to eat. "Good slut."

I confess that I cast a spell to win the lottery but found a treasure instead…
 It was not but before yesterday. The lottery jackpot was outrageously high. I had attempted earlier with my girlfriend to produce enough loosh to manifest some winning numbers. We yielded no positive results for lottery but I enjoyed our endeavors. 
 I knew if we were to stand a chance of creating any real Sex Magik, we would need more willing bodies. People that entertained a certain type of magical thinking. Likely of the Cluste-B variety..
 I created a new profile on a popular alternative hook-up app. The profile pics were nothing particularly spectacular, but I thought they communicated a certain air of a couple that were secure with themselves. The bio though, was a simple short blurb advertising my intent. I didn’t fuck around with straight couples or bullshit bicurious single males. I wanted cock and pussy. I was going to have a fucking full swap or an orgy.
 The bio detailed my plan. All participants agree upon a shared set of lottery numbers. We then set upon each other with carnal lust and the appropriate Will and invoke our manifestation. “Should we fail to produce the lottery numbers”, I penned, “we would still win in the end”.
 The last part was an extremely dry joke but it was brought up later. 
 I actually received quite a few responses but most were single men. Eventually I received a message from a person I will call Jack. Jack had wife named Jill. Jack started sending me pictures faster than I could send mine back. I was afraid I wasn’t sending enough of my gf and too many of my cocklet and I. Jack didn’t mind though. Jack thought that was just fine.
 We set up a place for the four of us to meet. I always vet people out before I stick my dick into them or their’s into me. I have a sensitive barometer for people I fucking hate and so I like to sniff new prospects out before I take them home or to a hotel.
 I had cleared the entire thing with my girlfriend before I ever ran the add on the bio but given the small community we live in, and the troubles we have had before in finding swinging bi couples, she was very surprised at how fast I had arranged such a meeting. It made her nervous for the entire day.
 My gf and I arrived at the agreed meeting place before Jack and Jill. It wasn’t quite six in the evening but it was already dark. The other couple were more than fashionable late. My gf was practically frantic from the anxiety she felt. She usually feels some anxiety on the first meeting when we swing but this was extraordinary. It highly uncharacteristic of her.
 When they arrived I suggested we all just pile into my truck for the warmth. Jack and Jill were agreeable to that and we all climbed inside the cab. Jack liked my truck and tried to engage me a little on the topic of diesel engines and vehicle models like mine. I fained little knowledge. I was more interested in fucking his hole. I mean, his wife was okay, but I liked this man from the moment I smelled him. But I would soon cum to see how very much, Jack was absolutely insane.
 At first, there was some back and forth between the four of us but it would not be long before Jack would rise to dominate the conversation totally and I was in awe at the spectacle of him. He was a juggernaut that could not be stopped. Holy shit. He was a bit shorter than me and had a muscular build. Probably procured through hard work rather than lifting weights. He wore a fleece cap but I expected a cowboy hat. He a chiseled jaw with a cleft chin. He was very handsome.
 Jill was closer to our age. She was probably your typical bpd nympho. A body of about  average but very large breasts. Scandinavian with Irish maybe? Doesn’t really matter, she had large breasts. Very fuckable in my book. Her fantasies were very dark I think. Definitely lots of psychological damage. Large breasts though. Jack would tweak on her nipples as I sometimes managed to chime in. It was very distracting in the most delicious of ways. Did I mention that her breasts were rather large? She wanted dicks rubbing together inside her. Actually I wanted that, but I knew she would have enjoyed it.
 Jack wasn’t a total dick though. He had method to his maddness. As he attempted to dazzle my gf and I with his strange stories and exploits of himself he left small oppenings. He found out quite a bit more than I tried to let on. He was much more cleaver than one might initially assume by his antics.
 Jack began to regail us with stories of killing, incest, rape, sex torture, squirting, marijuana omnitopical, drugs, his construction career, his pro-rodeo career , his porn career,he was a veteran,  how he hated his mom (I guess?), more incest,his ties to mafia, the finer points of leather stitching and yet more incest.
 Also, he only bottemed unless, “the dude was a chick”. My girlfriend looked right at me as he said that. I knew what she was thinking. I was thinking the same thing. 
 Actually, I was thinking about something totally different than her. I had been watching far too many youtube videos about people psychological problems. I had found out what type of crazy people with traits like myself find appealing. Jack was prime specimen of what is supposed to get my juices flowing. I think that youtube is right. 
 With every story, my gf became more and more apprehensive. They mentioned god 11 times. She counted. Every other story was a burning red flag. “These people are fucking kray kray!”, she said to me without speaking. Sure, the story about the squirting sex slave and tarp over the matress seemed funny at fist. But they sorta lost my gf’s interest when the said they had to beat the shit out of her and take her to a mental hospital. Because they cared. Fucking A. The story of the justified homicide did not help. 
 I knew there was no way this was going past the initial meeting between us. It was a shame. I was not sure if anything this person said was true. Pathological lying is hallmark of people with narcissistic traits. But Jack was broken in way that seemed very familiar to me. It could very well be that every story he told was crafted based on his perception of what he thought I might find interesting. It could also be that most if not all of what he said is a close approximation of reality. Chaos fills the lives of the people with traumas. Jack lived in another world at any rate.  
 We finally parted ways after two hours of Jack’s fantastic stories. Neither my girlfriend or I thought it wise to persue them but I harbor deep regrets. Jack being either human typhoon with bpd or a psychotic narcissist, makes no difference to me. The damage is the same. The sex is probably the best I will never know. I don’t even know why it would be so great. But I think it would. People say that it is. Who am I to gainsay them?
 I wanted to win a billion a dollars but instead I found a person that beyond any treasure that could compare. A person so beautifuly tortured that only I could see the true worth of. A person that would not bore me. A person that would probably murder me. A person whose emotional dis-regulation riviled my own I think. Probably eclipsing it. I am sure every day with Jack would be a whirlwind of passion and near death experiences. 
 I confess this Jack, should you ever read this and recognize me, I would have rocked your world like no fucking other. I would have made you cum with every hole I have. I would have fucked every hole of yours. I would have played every crazy mind game you set up for me. I would have made every pore of yours drip sweet and I would have drained your fucking balls. I would have fucked your body, destroyed your mind and raped your sole. You would have fragmented into a dozen or more pieces inside your mind and I would have fucked every one of them. You could have beaten me until my body was bruised and my will was broken. I could have broken you. It would have been fun. I would have saved you from god. You could have joined me with the devil. We could have found refuge in each other’s holes.
 Fuckit, I still have your number…