1.2
.Torment
Stroking her delectable white flesh as it was revealed, Nick eagerly completed
her undressing. Vicky noted with amusement the hard-on bulging his jeans. The sight
gave her an idea. Leading him over to a nearby cabinet, she picked out a stiff wire
cock training gag like the one Jane sported and an elastic gauze band. The band she
pulled over her eyes. It was harder to beg when your torturers could not see the
pleading in your eyes, even more so when the only words you could utter were
amusing and unintelligible gape-mouthed grunts and pig squeals. Unable to alter her
fate the victim could still savor the delicious terror of watching through the gauze as
the next torment was readied for application to her defenseless flesh. Titillated by the
mental image, Victoria waved the wire gag in front of Nick, a fey look of abandon on
her face. In her mind's eye she was racing toward a precipice and a voice was
screaming for her to slow down. It was her own voice and she felt a strange sensation
of release when she realized she was going to ignore it. 'What the fuck,' she thought.
'In for a pinch, in for a pounding.'
"Gag rule, strict rations'" she blurted before she could change her mind. "In
effect until you've persuaded me to suck and tongue wash every cock, pussy and
bunghole on the ranch at least a dozen times. Anything you can 'convince' me to suck
gets to ream my other holes. The usual rules concerning such willful perversions are
in effect. Rules infractions are punishable at your discretion, escalation clause also in
effect. Time limit - " She took a deep breath. This was a moment she had anticipated
for years. Never before had she gone so far in making possible the fate she was about
to pronounce upon herself.
What she said next would seal her fate. She had not known for certain what
sort of ordeal she might get herself into this trip until she saw that look of utter despair
in Jane's eyes. The idea of being held captive by a sadistic pervert who was free to do
whatever he wanted to do to her for as long as he felt like doing it had always
fascinated her. The things Nick did to Jane both frightened and titillated Victoria.
She had often played out little sadomasochistic scenes with Nick and others but
never had she felt utterly hopeless and abjectly crushed in spirit because she had set
rules and always knew that the game would eventually end. She had long since
become jaded with one night and weekend bouts of torture. More and more she toyed
with committing herself to ever longer travails. It was a delicious game wherein she
flirted on the very edge of the abyss of that endlessly excruciating doom in which Jane
now suffered without falling in herself. But what was it like to know that it wasn't a
game anymore? To know, like Jane knew, that you were completely at the mercy of
someone who had no mercy, someone who relished inflicting pain on helpless female
flesh in an infinite number of imaginative and horrible ways? Someone who had no
worry that anyone was looking for either him or his victim and thus could ply his evil
skills for as long as it took to grind that victim down to mewling, ass licking servitude?
Always she sought to increase the amount of doubt in her mind that her torment
would eventually end. She sought that desolate moment of epiphany wherein she
became convinced that her old life of pleasure and luxury was over and she was
doomed to be nothing more than one of her victims; a wretched, naked pain slave for
the rest of her miserable life.
"- your discretion."
Nick's eyes lit up in delight and anticipation as he watched her shove the gag
into her own mouth. She relished the taste of old saliva and gism on it even as she
fought back the urge to retch. The training gag looked like a frame for a complete set
of dentures as they fit completely inside the mouth over the teeth and came with an
insertion tool which, when twisted, expanded the joints until the gag fit snugly and
held the mouth wide open. Without the tool it was impossible to remove the gag even
with one's hands free, especially since the tool also functioned as a key. Not allowing
herself time to reconsider her instructions Victoria removed the tool and, sealing her
own doom, handed it to Nick. There was no way for her to rescind her orders now.
Her deliberately vague orders.
She had not quite tossed herself over the edge into that abyss but this was about
as close as didn't make any difference. Theoretically, Nick would release her
eventually, but she did not know that for certain. Her 'rules' were so ill defined as to
allow the sadist to find her in violation at any time, no matter how long she suffered,
no matter how many vile and degenerate acts she performed for his entertainment. He
did not know what time limit there might be before someone came looking for her but
she fully expected him to quickly torture that information out of her. She'd cleared
her calendar indefinitely and closed her office. None of her self important California
jet-set friends knew about this place or where she had gone other than a vague
misdirecting reference to Europe. Her only hope was that eventually he would tire of
her enough to consider allowing her to resume her practice so that she might bring in
some income and most importantly; fresh meat.
That day was likely to be a long time coming, if at all. The ranch was pretty
self supporting and a large bank account was available to its ramrod. Also he would
no doubt elicit from Vicky the access numbers to several more accounts. Nick was
certain to take the opportunity since it would be * so * much fun! Especially since
every confession, every number Victoria gave up would only serve to make her
incarceration that much longer and her eventual freedom that much less likely. Still,
greed and the lust for the new quail she could provide might win out in due time.
Vicky had the means and opportunity to bring home the goods.
Even after the most evil treatment, one thing that did not concern him was the
possibility that Victoria might go to the authorities. Nick had an extensive and
damning collection of tapes hidden away that would condemn her as well. In her own
way, Victoria Denning was a slave even when free. She had seen to that. She helped
make the tapes. It was part of her weird flirtation with making her masochistic fantasy
nightmare come true.
Completely naked now, she offered her wrists to the grinning Nick. She could
see his wicked imagination was already working overtime. Reaching into the cabinet
he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and, spinning her around, snapped them onto her trim
wrists with a click of finality, locking her hands behind her.
Carelessly tossing the gag-key over his shoulder so that it clattered unseen into
a remote corner, Nick spun Vicky back to face him. Grabbing both of her proud, ripe
orbs, he squeezed the sensitive flesh in vice-like grips until the breast meat bulged out
redly between his fingers
He spat in her face, the saliva entering her clamped open mouth and dribbling
down her cheek. "Welcome to Hell, bitch." He then slowly and with great force,
twisted the trapped boobs like a pair of doorknobs.
"Aa-h-h-h!" Her eyes watering in pain, she arched her splendid body, her
head tilted back. It did not matter what angry riposte or frantic second thoughts may
have fired down the nerves from her brain to her delicate throat and talented tongue
and lips, that breathy, sibilant gasp was the only response the training gag allowed her
to utter. Given the expression on Nick's cruelly leering face she was sure to have
plenty of time to consider the next words she * would * speak.
Gag rule meant that from this point until she met the 'conditions' she'd just set,
her ass (and the rest of her luscious body) was Nick's to do with as he pleased. And
though the deliberately ill defined conditions were hers he got to judge when they had
been met. And no matter how desperately the captive strove to please her master and
comply with his demands he could always find some violation which demanded
further inquisition. If she complained (when she got the chance) or tried to beg off she
would be summarily re-gagged and further punishments gleefully added to her
'sentence'.
Victoria and Nick had spent much time devising a set of 'Levels of Inquisition'
for just such situations. Each level contained certain degrees of allowable torture such
as Level One slapping and pinching right up to the most severe methods such as
branding, flaying and mutilation. Making the prisoner confess that she deserved to go
up to the next level was all part of the fun since all of the torments of the current level
or below could be used to persuade her.
It was a game Victoria had enjoyed often as the captor. The thrill of power one
felt when eliciting such confessions and then pronouncing some new sentence on a
terrified slave went straight to her loins because she always imagined the roles
reversed and herself as the bound one, gagged and desperately beseeching with mute
eyes for mercy that would not be given. She had put herself in such straits before, but
never before was she so uncertain she would see an end to it. If nothing else, this
promised to be her longest siege thus far. Gagged, naked, and already feeling the first
pain of her uncertain thralldom, she creamed at the prospect.
With each violation of the rules the levels of punishment would be ratcheted up
in severity, meaning, before too long she could very well end up taking Jane's place if
she proved unwilling to voluntarily submit to Nick's interpretation of her self imposed
sentence. The really delightful part was; as she suffered the torments of one Level of
Inquisition, Victoria would actually end up begging to be subjected to the greater
horrors of the next Level just to escape the already unendurable throes of her current
predicament.
Of course, the prisoner first had to be found in violation of the Rules. The rule
for Victoria in this case being to suck and eat any prick and pussy presented to her.
For starters, Nick wondered how she would react to the interpretation that already had
him grinning so evilly. She was not going to like it, he was certain. But that was the
whole point. He knew it was the very thing the perverted woman was counting on. In
her own self damning words she had opened the door to let him use the dungeon's
varied collection of monster dildoes and any other inanimate object that a female
mouth could be persuaded to ingurgitate.
His eyes roamed the racks of such devices lining the torture chamber walls.
Victoria was probably anticipating such a move and he would surely oblige her..,
again and again. But first, he preferred to surprise her a little. Surprises were always
more fun. They had a way of impressing on a slave just how impotent they were. He
knew Victoria had hoped to set a direction for her torments and wanted to quickly
disabuse her of any notion that she was in control of her fate. He was really going to
enjoy this.
"What do you say we take a stroll out to the stables, eh?" He cupped his
beautiful captive's delicate chin in his hand, running his fingers into her open mouth as
he spoke. Her talented tongue wrapped itself around the rough digits, making love to
them as she waited for him to pronounce her fate. Victoria had a queasy feeling she
knew what was coming. He laughed as he watched the expression of growing dismay
on her face as he told her what he had in store for her.
"You didn't say anything about limiting your oral chores to human anatomies,
did you, you dumb cunt?" He smiled at the wide eyed, half choked grunt this elicited
as he confirmed her foreboding. She shook her head vigorously but this only made
him grin even wider. He would have her eagerly nodding agreement soon enough.
She had seen to that herself.
Her tongue caressed his fingers even more delicately. She pressed her naked
form up against him, offering suddenly eager promise of the delightful distractions her
body was capable of providing. Nick smirked at the sudden change, relishing his
absolute power over this incredibly lascivious woman.
"That's right bitch, get in practice because you are going to suck off every
horse in the stables. And remember, every one you suck gets to visit your cute little
twat and asshole. I hope they're nice and stretchable."
Vicky's eyes were already wide with dismay at the thought. She made uh-uh
sounds as she shook her head again. Nick just nodded and leered.
"How you manage the performance is up to you. It ought to be an interesting
show," he said as his hands roamed down to her vagina and buttocks. She grunted as
his fingers rudely worked their way into the two orifices, testing their stretch-ability.
"Yes, mighty interesting indeed. It's also going to be fun watching you work the
chimp cage."
Victoria moaned again and shook her head more violently. Some of the
chimpanzees were full grown and vicious when they didn't get their way. They would
drag a woman around their cage like she was a rag doll, biting and mauling her flesh
with their powerful paws in between frequent rapes. Nick noticed that her moan was
not so pleasure filled as before though her cunt was wet just the same.
'Damn bitches can never make up their minds,' he thought.
Well, she might be more amenable when she got hungry and thirsty enough.
`Strict rations' meant that he did not have to give her food or water more than once
every forty-eight hours. And even then because of the `gag rule' she might have to lap
it up like a dog since he did not have to remove the gag at all if he did not feel like it.
But they both knew he would, just to hear her beg, and they both knew she would
eventually break down and beg.
Gone would be the proud, defiant bitch playing sadomasochistic games. By the
time he got around to removing the wire gag she would cry and beg with heartfelt
desperation at the first opportunity for release even though she knew it was hopeless.
Such an act of weakness would only garner her more debasement and even more
extravagant ordeals. Even though she knew that Nick was a merciless sadist she
would beg when, after being 'persuaded' to swallow gallons of horse cum, after hours
of his unrelenting tortures, she was finally given that first chance to speak. It was the
very hopelessness, the inevitability of the plight into which she had just placed herself
that now had her pussy wet and her nipples hardened with deviant desire.
Jane still hung before them, panting and heaving in pain, her feet arched once
again painfully across the sharp, pointed, posts.
"But first, begin by sucking this cunt, whore!" Nick ordered as he knocked the
auburn beauty's knees out from behind, forcing her into a kneeling position with her
face just inches from Jane's long unwashed twat. Victoria turned her head away from
the odor of stale sweat and great clots of rotting cum in the hanging girl's, crab and
flea infested bush, the product of countless rapes by several trained dogs, donkeys and
almost every other beast with a decent sized prick on the ranch. The thought made her
realize that Nick would not stop at the horses and chimps. Poor Jane had already been
at every crotch on the ranch numerous times over the past three years. Vicky
remembered how she had laughed at the hapless bitch's first introduction to the
ranch's varied menagerie.
While seeing such depraved acts being perpetrated on someone else had greatly
entertained her and fed her own warped fantasies, Victoria had never seriously
considered performing such acts of bestiality herself. Not for real. Somehow, she had
not thought that even Nick would stoop to forcing the owner of those animals to
perform the same services on them as the condemned murderess had done. Finding
herself in that fantasy for real at last, Victoria Denning was both appalled and
stimulated. Naked and handcuffed, the redhead trembled not with fear but with
growing excitement as she knelt before the long suffering Jane. What she had never
had the nerve to do he would * make * her do!
Nick left her contemplating this future while he stepped over to a bench. As
he stepped back Vicky heard the hiss of a cane switch. She screamed as it struck her
creamy white buttocks and started to climb to her feet only to be roughly shoved back
to her knees. That wasn't fair! The cane was a Level 2 instrument! Her outraged
protest came out as nothing more than an amusing squawk.
More blows rained down on her back and unshielded ass with machine-like
regularity. Vicky squirmed on her knees and squealed and panted through her wire
gag as she stared at Jane's cunt. The idea of shoving her face into that sweaty mass
was revolting, but at the same time, the idea of being * forced * to do it caused a heat
to grow in her loins even as the heat from the switch warmed her backside. She did
not think it would be long before she broke and eagerly lapped up that mess. She
wondered how long after that it would be before she tearfully asked to be taken to the
stables so that she could begin her oral obligations, including servicing the acrid nether
regions of her mares. What further 'encouragement' would be required there before
she eagerly slid her naked cunt onto the thick, turgid pricks of her stallions and
wriggled her pert ass onto those same monstrous members?
Finally, she wondered how long it would be before she ended up back at this
very spot, her own body mauled and brutally bruised, welted, and abraded like Jane's.
How long before she actually begged for the pleasure of being allowed to just hang
here in the dungeon by her mangled tits, quietly burning and squirming with the
unrelieved fire of her own 'hot' oil and left alone to suffer the agonies Jane was now
suffering rather than suck or fuck one more animal. Somehow, she knew Nick would
manage it.
Jane wailed as her aching feet fell from the posts and she dropped once more,
her transfixed breasts again forced into the unnatural task of supporting the weight of
her body. The wail ended in a wavering sigh as she surrendered to her cheerless fate,
and, echoing that sentiment with a sigh of her own, Victoria Denning buried her face
in the greasy, stinking, muff. Reveling in her degradation even as her gorge rose, she
orgasmed with the thought of the many agonies and depravities in store for her. Nick
continued to strike at her backside even as her tongue lapped out at the disgusting
groin and she howled into the infested fur in response. 'How long?' she thought again.
How long before she looked upon Jane's current plight as a merciful boon to be
desired?
***
As it turned out, it took just three weeks. Three weeks of hell and continuous
torture in the stables and elsewhere. Nick's first rule was that she had to swallow the
cum. Naturally, she often gagged on the thick wads of musky semen that shot from
the stallion's hot, mouth filling peckers and had to start all over. When she faltered or
hesitated from doing her chores in any way she was quickly punished. And if she
thought sucking the great, horsy dicks was difficult then sliding her well stretched cunt
over the massive members was literally hard work. She had laughed at Jane's antics
when she had forced the murdering little bitch to do such depraved acts. Now she
could only groan as she lay in the same sling under the same aroused stallions with her
legs up to her shoulders and spread so that her own dainty cunt and ass presented
themselves for the brutal bestial banging. The ass fucking was the worst and there
seemed no end to it. A dozen times for each animal she could be persuaded to suck
and she quickly found herself requiring ever more lengthy and brutal sessions of
torture to 'encourage' her to continue her self decreed ordeal.
Her naked body whipped and welted from her 'encouragement' sessions,
covered in cum and bitten by legions of flies, she worked the stables day and night,
sweltering in the heat, her own stinking sweat her only bath. She finally could not
bring herself to fuck another horse, so raw were her cunt and asshole.
As punishment, Nick chained her spread-eagled in a stall heaped with manure
and left her there with her horse cum and sweat slicked flesh crawling with green
horse flies and the lips of her cunt twitching with their bites. Her bare feet kept sliding
even farther apart in the stinking muck so that most of her weight was taken up by her
out-stretched arms. She would struggle back to the limits of the tethers binding her
ankles only to slide back again. The enforced split kept her snatch wide open and the
insects had her constantly writhing and tossing her hips in desperate efforts to drive
them off, but she could not. The same held true for her boobs which she constantly
flopped and jiggled about in the most vigorous and entertaining ways but all these
efforts were to no avail and she would howl and thresh her entire body in maddened
frustration.
Feigning sympathy, Nick dropped by with a few spiked weights attached to
saw-toothed clamps by short chains. Whistling a merry little tune, he cavalierly pulled
up her nipples and chomped the clamps down on her already bruised tit meat. Staring
into her watering, pain filled eyes with an expression of total indifference on his face,
he held up the weights so she could see them, then dropped them one at a time to the
full length of their chains. It was only a matter of inches but to Vicky it felt as though
the weights were going to tear her nipples clean off as they jerked and bounced to
equilibrium between the inexorable demand of gravity and the reluctant resistance of
her excruciated breast flesh. The crushed aureoles burned with unrelenting, throbbing
fire as every little movement caused the weights to swing, sawing the vicious clamps
back and forth, digging the wicked teeth ever deeper into her helpless, pain overloaded
titties.
Ignoring Victoria's cries of anguish and vigorous head shaking, he did the
same to the swollen lips of her pudenda. Once again he displayed the weights,
weighing more than a pound each and viciously spiked. Trapped in her bondage, she
could not swivel her hips away from his rough, groping hands as they pinched up and
drew out her already raw nether lips. She screamed in agony as the first clamp bit into
her supersensitive flesh, arching her whole body in response to this latest torment.
Nick dropped the weight, bigger than the tit weights and on a longer chain, and with a
fading scream his victim slumped into unconsciousness. Tisking in mock annoyance
he merely went on with his task.
When Victoria came to her tormentor was gone. She moaned as she realized
he had clamped the fourth weight to the other side of her vagina. Her nether lips felt
as though they were stretched halfway to the floor. A horse fly chowed down on her
ass and she yelped and jerked her body, unthinking of the catastrophic result. The
chained weights swung violently, the force of their swing tearing with agonizing result
at her tits and cunt. Then the four spiked maces that were the weights slammed into
her flesh, stabbing her thighs and ribs and she convulsed in helpless reaction once
more, setting the small maces once more into action against her defenseless body.
The weights hanging from her tits did the most damage, whipsawing back and
forth across her torso at the ends of their chains, lashing and gouging her chest as they
tugged her bleeding breasts violently back and forth. The treatment was particularly
fiendish in that it denied the captive even the small relief from the flies that shaking
and jiggling her delectable body had provided. Now each motion was a new torture in
itself. But so desperate did she become that, despite the pain, she eventually resorted
to deliberately flogging herself with these wicked chains, screaming at the torment
they caused that was every bit as bad as the stinging bites of the swarm of flies.
After nearly a day of this treatment she was ready to agree to anything. Instead
Nick simply brought in a trio of chimps and left them chained in the stall with her
despite her frantic (if unintelligible) efforts to get him spare her this particular ordeal.
She recognized the chimps. She had trained them to rape and abuse Jane. But had
been when they were young and pliable. She had not seen them in over a year and had
put them out of her mind, but not Nick. She was shocked to see them now; they were
full grown and dangerously powerful. And she was alone, naked, and chained
helplessly in the same stall with them. Victoria trembled at the thought of the things
they might do to her.
They proceeded to do everything she imagined, and more. They raped her
whenever the fancy took them, and it took them often. They climbed all over her
helpless body like it was a fucking tree, sticking their slick, rigid members into her
every orifice and demanding satisfaction. Vicky shuddered and howled in agony as the
chimps also played with the weighted chains, jerking on them in fits and starts until,
one by one, the clamps were dragged, with great and agonizing reluctance, free of her
suffering flesh. She bucked and heaved in her chains as they scoured great red gouges
in her most sensitive places as first one, then another of the saw-toothed clamps were
dragged free of her stretched and burning flesh without benefit of being squeezed open
first.
Then the real fun began. The apes had been trained for this sort of bestial gang
rape and Nick had obviously continued their education in Victoria's absence. They
knew all the ways a woman could be used to give them their violent pleasure and used
them all with vicious enthusiasm. When they didn't get full cooperation they would
bite her breasts and anywhere else that fancied them, hanging on like leeches to the
mindlessly screaming, writhing woman.
All this time, Nick never said a word, never asked a question or made a
demand. He would simply walk by, smiling and ignoring her desperate, inarticulate,
attempts to gain his attention. If only he would let her speak! Victoria would have
begged and groveled, gladly agreeing to any demand in order to end her vile ordeal in
the stall. Once he brought a small tape recorder and replayed Victoria's own words
from when they had established the conditions of the 'gag rule; "Make the bitch
desperate to a fever pitch and beyond to beg for mercy, then deny her even that pitiful
hope. The gag stays in.
"Let her perceive with absolute certainty that her doom is sealed. That no
appeal will be considered. That she must continue to suffer whatever torment has
driven her to this extreme state of despair even if it should drive her mad. Our victims
are deserving of their fate and ought to be reminded of that fact. The sadists for their
crimes, the masochists for their sins. The masochists especially, for they have truly
asked for it and we must oblige them. And-" there was an anticipatory pause. "if
that desperate, woeful bitch should one day turn out to be this particular
masochist-.well-, imagine the delicious irony of reminding me of this conversation.
It would only be fitting that the architect of the heinous ordeals conducted in these
chambers be made to endure even more extravagantly than her own victims, all the
while being reminded that she deserves every interminable minute - hmmm-?"
Victoria remembered how she had played with herself and orgasmed when she
had said those damning words. She had fantasized that if she got careless or carried
away with her masochistic urges she might one day actually find herself in such an
irrevocable predicament. It had been stimulating to plant such a personally explicit
condemnation in the gag rule. Now her words finally played for real on ears unready
to hear them. Her jaw ached as she worked it uselessly on the gag she had placed in
her own mouth. The words of denial as she sought to disown her earlier decree
remained trapped in the back of her throat. She whined and squirmed in her adamant
bondage as though each syllable of that earlier speech was a stroke from a brine
soaked lash.
That was not her! That was another woman who was free, her flesh pampered
and clean and unblemished. A haughty and cruel stranger dressed in fine clothes said
those awful things, not one whose naked skin crawled with insects as it bled and
trembled in pain! Victoria Denning hung her head and sobbed. She had finally done
it. She was truly doomed, condemned by her own words. Her wretched suffering
would never end. In that moment of supreme hopelessness, she came even as she was
raped by a chimp. And when a second ape roughly entered her ass she accepted her
fate and swung her hips in erotic response, stimulating the bestial sodomite to even
more energetic and painful efforts. After all, it was no more than she had asked for.
Finally she realized Nick was standing before her, hands on hips and head
cocked as he surveyed his handiwork: Bleeding, glistening with sweat, monkey, and
horse cum, she stood with arms and legs extended at chain's length, trembling with
pain and fatigue, her eyes sunken and red, her auburn hair hung down onto her
shoulders and over her face in wet straggles. The three chimps clung to her, one using
her tits as handholds as he pumped her vagina with his rampant tool. Another slung by
his long arms from her shoulders and rammed his throbbing member in and out of her
ass. The third hung from a trapeze Nick had set up above her and played with her hair,
pulling up tufts and yanking her head back and forth like a kid with a broken doll.
When she saw him tears ran down her cheeks and she mewled and whined
piteously. The training gag prevented anything more articulate. Gobs of monkey cum
gushed from the open mouth to dribble onto the bruised and chewed swell of her
heaving breasts. He knew then that he had broken her. He looked around the stables.
"Lots of work here for you yet," he observed casually. "But maybe we ought
to give you a little break before we get back to it. How would you like to hang around
the dungeon for a while? I have to go into town for a day or two. You'll have the
place all to yourself. Get cleaned up a bit and put something on those nasty bites
before they fester. Maybe I'll even let you demonstrate on me your latest technique
for fucking horses. What do you say to a little sack time, eh?"
Victoria hung her head in defeat. Even through her anguish she knew exactly
what Nick was talking about. She would be hung up in a leather sack with only her
head protruding and her wrists and ankles tied together behind her. There she would
be left to get some rest, if she didn't mind her sackmates; the hundred or more
cockroaches that would be dumped in with her. Then she would be brought out to the
tithanger that had so thrilled her with Jane's antics the first day she had arrived. She
would be given a choice; return to the barn and its many equine delights and
'enticements' such as this stall, or accept Jane's fate. She would accept it. Eagerly.
His agenda ought to have terrified her but she could not bear another minute in
the stables without going mad. She tried to nod her head in acquiescence but the third
chimp had other ideas. Just then he dropped down with his legs around her neck, his
erect pecker in her face. His intent was obvious and he would brook no delay.
Grabbing her hair even more tightly, he forced her head forward until her locked open
mouth engulfed his tumescent rod. She had no choice but to respond. Her tongue
ached with fatigue but it could not ignore the demanding presence in her mouth.
Nick watched the show as Vicky simultaneously serviced all three primates,
her naked form convulsing in the midst of their screaming, pistoning attentions.
"Well," he said in a mockingly miffed voice. "It looks like you are having
such a good time I guess it would be a shame to interrupt your fun. See you in a
couple of days."
"Ummmf..." A couple of days! She could not see Nick and her stuffed mouth
could not utter another sound. His only view of her nodding head was past the
monkey's pumping rump.
"Good head technique," he observed. Desperately she worked the chimp's
prick until it exploded with cum, nearly choking her. When the animal finally moved
Nick was gone. She whimpered like an abandoned puppy. Two days! To be so close
to relief from this torment only to be casually left to suffer for twice as long again!
She would go mad. Hunger and thirst also gnawed at her. She was surviving on a diet
of cum and shit already. The chimps had the darling habit of stuffing their shit into
her open mouth whenever they weren't raping it!
Out of her sight, Nick smiled at the soul damned wail of despair that filled the
stables. The wail quickly cut off as one of the chimps demanded her oral attentions
once more and she was forced to resume her three way bestial rape. He gunned the
engine of the pickup as he passed the barn a few minutes later just to rub it in. Inside,
Victoria Denning sucked monkey dick and whimpered as she listened to the
diminishing sounds of the retreating vehicle. The silence that followed was perhaps
the worst torture of all as she hung there in the stall and realized he wasn't coming
back.
***
He did not return to collect her until after noon the following day. Though it
was less than the two days he had threatened she was sure he had been gone even
longer. He found Vickie hanging exhausted in her bondage. Eyes closed, she
moaned from time to time, barely rolling her hips in response as one of the chimps
explored her cunt with his hairy paw, pushing his muscular arm well up into the
much violated cleft between her spread legs and working it around inside her. He
had been pumping her this way for over an hour and she had long since given up any
effort to dislodge him. It was another of the many "trick's" she had taught the beasts
when Jane had been the 'training dummy'.
She remembered how much fun she had had showing the animals how to fist
fuck the helpless, screaming woman, one after another until they learned to do it in
relentless rotation for hours on end. She had masturbated as she watched Jane suffer,
fantasizing about what it would be like to be in the murderesses place but never
seriously considering giving Nick the chance to put her there. But, to Vicki's horror,
with Nick away in town the chimps had remembered their lessons on their own.
Gagged and unable to command them to stop this latest debasement, Vicky had had
no choice but to endure the bizarre rape. With no human guidance she had no hope
of being spared a single minute of the dreadful performance.
Nick did nothing to interfere. For over an hour he watched as the apes took
turns ramming their forearms up into Vicki's bulging cunt, all the while smiling
indulgently at her for her eccentric sexual habits. He immensely enjoyed the mute
pleading of her eyes. They were most eloquent in their expression. He smiled as he
held up the little recorder and watched as the flicker of hope in them was crushed
once more when he hit 'play'.
"You deserve this fate, don't you bitch?," he demanded when the tape ended.
"You want suffer like this, don't you?
Without argument or denial, Victoria Denning meekly nodded mute
confirmation.
"Good. Then suffer for me. Perform for me. Already you are one of my
finest creations. Your agony becomes you, but we have only just begun. You are my
latest pain sculpture and there is much more to be done to mold you into a
masterpiece. Your suffering is performance art in its purest, simply watching you is
a most enjoyable way to pass an afternoon." He went back to the barrel on which he
had been sitting and resumed his observation. Vickie threw her head back and closed
her eyes. She hardly noticed when her mouth was crammed with a fistful of
horseshit and monkey dung, simply sucking at the mass and letting the brown juice
dribble down her chin and neck.
Nick watched her until she passed out, then, after caging the chimps he cut
her down. She collapsed bonelessly into the mess of horse and monkey shit filling
the stall, trembling and moaning as she weakly wriggled about in the stinking mass
of excrement. Watching her, Nick licked his lips. Tossing off his clothes, he dove
down on top of her, driving her even deeper into the filth as he raped her, ramming
his massive, rock hard boner into her raw, swollen, and cum dripping cunt. Her
screams became grunts in time to his thrusts as his body mashed itself down onto
hers again and again, the shit and slime smearing and lubricating the action of their
two bodies.
Afterwards, he carried her inside. Exhausted, she slumped her head against
his shit streaked chest, her arms wrapped around his neck, as though she were a
grateful maiden in the arms of her rescuing knight rather than a victim in the clutches
of her torturer. Inside Nick forced Jane to lick both of them clean from head to foot.
That was an interesting diversion in itself. Then, true to his word, he had Vicky ride
him. She bounced up and down on his dick while he groped at her chewed and
mauled breasts, eliciting an interesting ritornelle of gasps, wails, and cries of pain-
ecstasy. That last amazed him. Her cunt was so raw and swollen any action in it
ought to have been pure agony yet the warped bitch was still managing to transmute
some of that pain into pleasure. She finally collapsed and he gave her a rare
undisturbed night's rest in which to recuperate some of her strength. She was going
to need it. He would save 'the sack' for a night when she was conscious enough to
appreciate its exquisite torments.
The next morning Victoria was led into the torture chamber. To Nick's
satisfaction she quailed at the sight of what waited for her. "You agreed to 'hang
around' here," he reminded her. "Shall we get on with it or are you reneging in
which case we shall 'discuss' going to Level Seven?"
Vickie shuddered. Level Seven was the first fire level: Red hot needles and
some of the smaller branding irons. She had hoped it would have taken her much
longer to reach this level but Nick had exceeded himself in the ingenuity of his
tortures so far. She knew now that there was no way she was going to avoid the fire
and her flesh simultaneously crawled and tingled at the thought.
But not yet. Convinced now that there was no hope, she walked bleakly over
to the apparatus hanging from the ceiling and could not supress a little shuddery
moan of dread as she studied it. She had known for some days now that this moment
was inevitable. By now she had been convinced there was to be no reprieve or
escape for her. Her cringing flesh would be inexorably subjected to every torment in
Nick's baneful repertoire.
Her inventive ramrod was handy with tools, damn him, and had made some
changes since Victoria had seen Jane suffering so extravagantly in the cruel grasp of
this very device. The changes insured that Vickie would suffer even more
extravagantly. Mentally she cudgeled herself, She deserved every shrieking minute
that lay ahead. Angry with herself, she stepped up onto the two posts, wincing as the
points dug into the soles of her dainty feet. Throwing her head back she tossed her
auburn tresses over her shoulder and glared back at Nick in a momentary show of
defiance. "Do your worst,' her eyes challenged.
He did.
Hours later, (she had no idea how many), Vicki gurgled and moaned as she
slowly twisted in the air, her outstretched toes vainly seeking the pyramid topped
posts somewhere below her so they could once again torture her raw, delicate feet.
She would welcome that pain because it meant she could (at least, temporarily),
relieve the exorbitant agony in her breasts. Nick had been right, it was much more
difficult for the victim to support herself this way. Jane had had it easy in the fixed
tit clamps.
As with her foreboding comments about masochists, the bastard had taped her
reaction to Jane's plight that first day. As her naked body was introduced to its
newest afflictions, he replayed her suggestions. Laughing at her obvious dismay he
introduced her to each 'improvement' as the recorder faithfully reproduced her
original recommendations. She could only roll her eyes and moan as he showed her
the devices he had made in accordance with her own instructions. She had meant for
Jane to 'enjoy' these 'improvements'. Or had she?
As she had predicted and now learned first hand, with the tit clamps
suspended from a cable instead of being fixed the victim was free to turn and swing
in any direction, making the once difficult act of regaining the oppressive perch even
more formidable. Turning slowly this way and that, it was almost impossible to do.
Vicki tried to look down to spot the posts and immediately squealed as the spikes
arrayed along the edges of a stiff discipline collar stabbed at her throat and neck.
Another effective idea!
"-And a stiff discipline collar to force the cow's head back so she can't see
what is actually happening to her udders. That ought to keep her imagination lively
and help her concentrate on her penance." Her own words echoed in the torture
chamber, mocking her.
Trapped by the oppressive collar, she could only stare hopelessly up at the
ceiling and contemplate her own contributions to her present set of woes as the
beams above rotated in and out of her view. Her chest burned with the strain of her
weight and the cruel spiked boards clamping down on her poor breasts magnified her
every motion, translating the vibrations into shocks of purest agony.
But Vicki was getting used to even this distress in her perverted sort of way.
She could even contemplate the horrifying certainty of her next 'break', hanging like
so much meat in this dungeon. She knew it would happen. Several times more would
she hang here like this and she would welcome each opportunity with bitter tears of
relief. A 'dozen times' she had said. So easily, so blithely. A dozen times at each
cock, a dozen times at each cunt and a dozen times at each filthy, greasy asshole.
Even now, her mouth tasted like the living sewer it had become. Jane's crab infested
pussy would taste like vanilla pudding right now by comparison. Vicki writhed her
hips. Her own bush crawled with vermin, almost driving her mad at times because
she could not touch it. The claws on her fingers scratched painfully at her hips as
they made the useless effort anyway.
She concentrated instead on her other distractions. As she squirmed and
twisted in mid-air her slender legs slowly churned as though she were riding a
bicycle as they ceaselessly explored for the posts. This action in turn constantly
pumped the massive flanged and ridged cunt reamer in and out, around and back,
twisting and ramming it against the raw, bleeding membranes within. The fishhook-
ended "Hellraiser" chains clawed ever deeper into her labia, tearing at her nether lips
until they were sacs of blood. Her arms twisted helplessly in response. Cuffed hard
to her hips, they ground the short, spiked crossbar around against her buttocks and
drove its oversized, ridged hook deeper into the ruptured tissues of her rectum.
Again the claws on her fingers raked involuntarily at her hips and buttocks, drawing
blood.
She squalled and shook but this only rocked the massive spiked iron ball that
Nick had affixed to her navel with four large fish hooks. Here was another one of
her cruelly clever ideas turned against her! Again Nick had grinned as he replayed
the fateful scene-
Victoria heard the crack of her own hand smacking Jane's bare belly and
remembered the bright red hand print she had caused. Impaled and hanging
helplessly by her tits Vicky could only anticipate what was to come with a strange
mix of dread and anticipation. Nick let her wait for the blow she could not see
coming because of the collar. Despite herself she tried to look and once again was
painfully thwarted. Nick laughed and struck with a blow that set her swinging and
screaming. With much amusement he watched her resultant, desperate struggles.
When she finally settled back into some sort of trembling, mewling tranquillity, he
played the rest of the fateful scene on the tape: "-And see what you can come up
with for this too. It looks so ignored. Something nice and heavy, I should think, with
lots of prickly little spikes and things to keep the old blood circulating."
Each of the fish hooks was big enough to land a tuna and entered the center
of her aching belly button so that they pointed outward in a cross pattern. Then the
shanks of the heavy duty hooks had been bundled together and drawn up through a
small shaft in the iron ball where they were pulled tight and locked in place so that
the ball clung tightly to her firm belly. Whenever she moved, the heavy ball bobbed
and rocked about, the hooks tearing at her belly button, but the belly ball was deeply
moored; the curved points plunging through hefty chunks of her flesh before probing
painfully back up just under the skin. Though the flesh around her navel protested
with angry heat the massive ball did not tear loose, though in time the points worked
their agonizing way back to the surface. Simultaneously, the many spikes of the
heavy iron ball drove into her tender belly flesh again and again with delightful effect
as it bobbed and wobbled in time and counter time to her every motion. Even
through the agony Vicky regretted that she could not see the sight she presented. She
remembered vividly her anticipation of torturing Jane in just this fashion. Nick had
got the heinous device just as she had imagined it! Her belly screamed with pain.
That it was supposed to be Jane's belly and not her own was no longer important.
Only the image in her mind of female flesh under extreme duress filled her mind. In
fact, perhaps it was better this way. Cringing Jane might only have ruined the effect.
Drawing in her breath, Victoria deliberately lifted her feet from the posts they
had so earnestly sought and arched her back, stretching her legs behind her. Caught
up in her own self image of exotic anguish she ignored the many new and renewed
pains this pose created; the excruciating agony in her magnificent breasts, the fire in
her labia as her nether lips stretched taut, the wrenching in her gut as the rod in her
cunt shifted until it pressed against the inside of her abdomen. The arched pose
showed off her latest torment to her captor and she deliberately writhed her belly to
set the balling rolling about. Gasping and moaning, she soon had her entire body in
motion in a dance of pain and perverted pleasure. She wished in that gloriously
transcendent moment that she could speak just long enough to beg Nick- to remove
the posts! She wanted to hang there and experience this magnificent agony forever!
She knew the moment would pass but that was part of her twisted pleasure;
knowing that the agony would go on and on until she had paid for her perverted
gratification with massive interest. She thought of how she had felt out in the stable;
broken and hopeless, and creamed at the prospect of returning to that abject state of
mind that was the nadir if mental and physical despair.
Eventually, as she knew it would, the depraved mood wore off and she once
more found herself with too much pain to absorb and too much time to think about it.
But, as Nick had said, it was anticipation that was perhaps the worst torture of
all. Hanging there, staring at the ceiling, she could only suffer and wait for the next
horror that would be done to her. She waited, trying not to think of the incessant
agony constantly broadcast by her impaled, crushed and stretched breasts, the
burning ache in her belly, or the jabbing pains in her ass and hips.
She tried not to think about Jane either. Jane, who Nick had chained nearby,
returned again and again with her own set of claws to decorate the helpless torso
mewling and hanging like so much raw meat in the very dungeon it had designed.
Using only one or two fingers at a time she slowly scratched, scraped, and carved
thin, shallow slices of skin from the captive body, imprinting new patterns of pain on
the fevered flesh. Ignoring all her other torments, Vicky threshed and wriggled
violently as she tried desperately to put off this latest assault. It was no use.
Squalling with agony, writhing in response to each new cut, she could do nothing but
suffer under the merciless hands of her former victim. And that was as it should be.
A hand rose into view and casually plopped a lump of shit into her upturned mouth.
Victoria gurgled and accepted her degrading breakfast with resignation. After all,
had she not spent three years preparing Jane for this moment of revenge? Had she
not all the while secretly desired this just fate? Without further complaint Vicky
mashed the bitter lump with her tongue and swallowed her captor's excrement as she
accepted her wretched fate.
After carving each new set of bloody designs into Vicki's cringing flesh,
Jane would take the basting brush and the jar of 'salad dressing' and apply a fresh
coat of glistening, spicy oil to the scored and reddened meat, making it writhe and
howl mindlessly in even more pain just as it was beginning to think no more pain
was possible. Then Jane would remind the flailing Victoria that this was all her own
idea; playing the tape recorder Nick had given her, emphasizing that she was not yet
half done with her ordeal. The tables deliciously turned, Jane's victim had no choice
but to listen to every horrible promise of even greater torments to come. The
murderess gleefully basted her former mistress with the fiery spiced oil and reveled
in the resultant screams and howls as Victoria Denning writhed anew in futile effort
to alleviate the searing agony that blistered her naked body from neck to straining
toes. This time there was no pleasurable sensation, perverted or otherwise, only
unholy agony and retribution and woeful penitence as the prisoner hung by her tits
and waited for the next escalation of her travails.
Then Jane would leave, but not before mentioning that she would return with
some nice long needles to slowly force up under Victoria's toenails so she could all
the more easily find the posts. Such consideration.
Such anticipation.
Swinging back and forth, her gleaming, naked, body burning with agony and
torment as it constantly arched and twisted like a worm on a hook, Victoria Denning
stared up at her unbreakable chains where they anchored solidly in the heavy ceiling
beams of her prison and thought of her jaded California friends idly stretching their
unfettered bodies on windswept beaches and sunned themselves. Tears ran down her
face as she thought of her mindless, carefree, society friends and how they must be
chattering in envious tones about her mysterious vacation and how she must be
enjoying herself. Coming through the training gag her anguished, hopeless sobs
sounded almost like laughter.
****
A soft fade of lights as we close this scene.... The third and final (for now) excerpt
from Victoria's Secrets. A work in progress. Never fear, Victoria will return with
even more travails in store.
