"You little slut!" Mistress Xaviera exclaimed, staring haughtily at the nubile young nymphette that lay before her.
Becky stared back at the strange yet beautiful woman with horror dripping from her ruby red lips.
This leather-clad woman scared her so!
Yet she also made her pussy tingle and twitch with orgasmic delight!
Becky dearly wanted to run her moist, hot tongue up Mistress Xaviera's pink pussy lips.
But the cruel woman was not about to give her newest sex slave a taste of her dripping cunt without first teaching the girl a lesson.
Mistress Xaviera approached Becky wielding a terrifying torture device.
Becky gulped and instinctively crossed her legs.
That huge iron rod in Mistress Xaviera's slender hand did not look very appealing!
Especially since it had long, sharp metal spikes sticking out of the shaft!
"I'm going to clean your stinking, filthy pussy with this big metal cock!" Mistress Xaviera cackled. "And don't you try to stop me. Or you'll be dead!"
Becky gulped and tears welled up in her pretty blue eyes as the horrible, wicked creature waved the iron dildo in the air.
Mistree Xaivera grabbed the girl by her long, golden locks.
She thrust Becky's head back and the girl screamed in pain.
"You'll have much more to scream about when I get through with you, bitch!" Mistress Xaviera hissed.
And with those words, the fuck-hungry dominatrix brought the tip of the horrible, spiked dildo up to the trembling girl's quivering cunt lips.
She pushed forward.
Brutally.
CHAPTER ONE
Charlene moaned in anguish.
Mistress Vanessa had left her alone once again.
Alone.
Alone in that gloomy, fetid dungeon with nothing at all to do.
Except wallow in her own pain.
And at that moment, pain was the only physical sensation that the pretty blonde haired girl was feeling.
She had long ago gotten used to the icy cold stone slabs upon which her ravaged body had been thrown.
She was used to the darkness, to the noise of the rats as they scurried across the dungeon floor inches from her naked, trembling form.
Charlene tugged at the ropes that bound her body. She felt the shackles that dug into her wrists and legs. She could feel the huge, iron rod that her mistress had brutally shoved up her cunt.
That rod had sent spasms of pain coursing through the delicate tissues of Charlene's firm, young body.
That stiff iron pole had ravaged her moist pussy walls. Mistress Vanessa had not been kind. She had wanted to punish her sex slave as savagely as she could.
And the iron pole had been the perfect torture.
Charlene should have had a hot, throbbing cock shoved up her moist, pink cunt.
But instead, the little slut had an iron dildo lodged up her most private of areas.
An iron dildo with thick, pointed spikes gracing the tip.
When Mistress Vanessa had first approached her exhausted, battered young flesh with the heavy iron torture device, Charlene had screamed in horror.
"Please!! Oh, please!! Don't shove that thing in me, Mistress Vanessa!! I will do anything you want me to! Please!! I'll lick your nice, hot pussy if you want me to, Mistress Vanessa! I'll play with your tits, I'll suck on your behind! Please! Just spare me this pain! Oh! Oh! Oh!!!"
But Charlene's cries of protest had fallen on deaf ears. Mistress Vanessa was not pleased with the recent behavior of her young, pretty sex slave.
So she slapped Charlene brutally across the face with the back of her leather-clad hand.
"Shut up, bitch!" Mistress Vanessa demanded as Charlene fell to the hard, cold floor with a thud. "I will do whatever I want to you. You are my slave, now!"
Tears welled in Charlene's pretty blue eyes as she looked up at the cruel, beautiful woman who towered over her prostrate body.
Mistress Vanessa was waving the heavy iron dildo with the spikes menacingly.
"I want to shove this thing up your pretty little cunt, and there's nothing you can do to stop me, bitch!" the woman breathed. "For I am your Mistress Vanessa, and you must obey my every command. Or face your ultimate punishment."
"Death."
Charlene looked up at the woman's towering, shapely form.
Her mistress was so stunning, so sexy. And so dangerous.
Charlene knew she would be unable to resist the woman's advances. Already, her pussy juices were beginning to flow.
Perhaps Mistress Vanessa was going to pillage and rape her body with the torturous dildo, but wasn't that Charlene's ultimate goal, after all?
Hadn't she longed to submit herself to this gorgeous creature's every command? Obey her every whim?
Mistress Vanessa approached Charlene, a sardonic grin playing over her thick, sensuous lips.
"Spread that pussy, bitch!" the woman grunted. "I'm going to shove this big, black cock up your pussy. And I don't want to hear a scream of pain from you at all!"
Charlene whimpered in terror as the woman approached her shivering figure.
Mistress Vanessa knelt down and pulled the girl's outer pussy lips apart with bestial savagery.
"This is going to hurt, cunt," Mistress Vanessa growled. "But I'm sure you'll love every minute of it. I know I will!"
Charlene screamed in terror as the woman plunged deep up her pussy with the thick, iron rod.
It felt as if she had been impaled on a telephone pole.
Charlene longed to fight back, to stop the brutal violation of her tender pussy walls. But she knew it was no use.
Mistress Vanessa had total control of the girl down in her chamber of horrors.
And Charlene loved her mistress, anyway.
Why would she want to escape?
And now, Charlene lay on the cold stone floor of the dungeon. Her mistress had tied her and shackled her tightly. There was no way to escape from the woman's harrowing tortures.
And although Charlene dearly wanted the pain that had wracked her tender young body for so long to disappear, she also longed to hear her mistress' voice once again.
She longed to hear Mistress Vanessa whisper in her ear how much she loved her.
Right before she whipped Charlene's body with the hideous cat o'nine tails the woman hid in her cabinet of torture devices for bad little girls!.'!
Gertrude Greengates removed her pince-nez with a trembling hand.
Disgusting!
Pure, unadulterated smut! Straight from the gutter!
She glanced around the empty lecture hall nervously, hoping that no one had been spying on her reading so many of the typewritten pages.
What sick, sick individual had written this vulgar trash?
The young college professor looked at the title page.
"English Comp 101. Sept. 12, 1986. Ms. Green-gates. Harrison Young."
Harrison Young? Who was he?
The name didn't sound familiar, but since Gertrude Greengates' Beginning Composition class had only met three times so far during the school year, the perky, pretty English professor wasn't sure who any of her students were!
But Gertrude was sure of one thing.
She would confront this filthy pervert Harrison Young the very next day during her 9:00 AM class and give him a piece of her own mind!
How dare one of her students write such pornographic material for their first paper and expect to get away with it!
Gertrude Greengates gathered up the huge sheaf of papers that were scattered around the desk in front of the lecture hall.
The hall seated one hundred and fifty students, and had been practically filled to the rafters during her Beginning Composition class.
One hundred and fifty students.
One hundred and forty-nine compositions to correct.
And one filthy piece of pornographic smut that had already earned its author an F and probably a removal from her course.
Gertrude would not stand for such vulgarity in her class, especially from a first-semester student. Why, the person who wrote the paper must have only been eighteen!
Only eighteen and already perverted beyond belief!
Torture chambers!
Iron dildos with spikes!
Anguish and pain and lust-ridden punishments!
A shiver ran up Gertrude's spine as she ascended the stairs up the back of the lecture hall to the hallway of the first floor of the English Building.
The young professor decided to go to her office on the eighth floor and correct a few more of the papers.
She debated as to whether she should simply discard the offensive composition in the garbage can she passed in the hall.
She decided against it.
Perhaps she ought to show it to Professor Becker, the head of the English Department.
Gertrude decided to wait and see what occurred when she confronted the perverted, deranged student who had written the obscene story.
Thee English professor entered the elevator and pressed the button that would carry her to the eighth floor.
Her arms laden with piles of the first compositions of the semester that her students had been required to complete, Gertrude looked at herself in the shiny surface of the elevator doors.
-hardly the quintessential college professor."
In fact, Gertrude looked like she belonged more at home waltzing down the runway at some beauty pageant rather than traipsing through the halls of Southeastern University of Minnesota.
The young woman was, to put it bluntly, a hot piece of ass.
She had shoulder-length blonde hair that framed the peaches-and-cream complexion of her flawless facial features perfectly.
Her blue eyes shone with bright intensity and vigor behind her pince-nez, and her lips were soft and kissable. They seemed to drip with lust.
Gertrude's body was a modern wonder. It had sent many of her hot-blooded young male students running to the privacy of his bedsheets after class to pump on his dong as visions of his new English Composition teacher danced in his head.
She had been approached on more than one occasion by a fuck-hungry young stud who lingered behind in the lecture hall after the rest of the class had been dismissed, hoping to thrust upon his professor his cunt-craving, thick, hard cock.
That is why the lewd composition that had appeared in the pile this morning had not particularly shocked the woman.
She was used to immature freshmen, hot for sex, using all sorts of gimmicks to catch her attention.
The first few semesters, these young guys had really frightened her, but now Gertrude Greengates attacked them with the same vigor and intensity that they used on her.
Only Gertrude's line of fire was certainly less sexual and more civil in tone.
She threatened each and every would-be suitor, not matter how cute, with being dropping from her course, and perhaps removed from the school if he kept his advances up.
And some of these guys had been fine, young men with huge cocks who would have loved to treat Gertrude the way a woman loved to be treated.
But the English professor would have nothing to do with them.
She thought them a nuisance and didn't hesitate to call on Professor Becker if they didn't take the first hint she gave them.
Which, to her last fuck-hungry fan, had been a solid kick in his jock-strapped balls.
Yes, Gertrude was tough with these young, fresh guys who wanted to get their thick fingers up her Gloria Vanderbilt dresses.
For Gertrude had no time for these kids.
Sure, passion and lust burned in her rather shapely loins on a regualr basis. Sure, she hungered for a touch from a hot male desperate for sex. Sure, she wanted to get fucked good, long and hard just like any other woman.
But Gertrude didn't want a young boy.
She wanted a man.
A real man.
And there were no real men attending any of her English Composition classes.
Only coarse, obscene, snot-nosed brats like the unknown Harrison Young who had probably beat off over his typewriter while composing the disgusting piece of fiction she had just laid her nauseated eyes on.
The elevator door opened and Gertrude Green-gates stepped out into the hall.
She almost collided with a tall, virile gentleman in a pin-striped suit.
"Good day, Professor Naugles," Gertrude breathed.
Professor Roger Naugles stared at Gertrude with his deep, dark eyes.
"Hello, Professor Greengates," the man replied before continuing to swagger down the hall.
By their stilted, overly-polite relationship, no one in the English Department would have ever realized that Professor Naugles and Professor Greengates were in fact lovers.
They regularly met in one another's office, or in the staff room, for q quick roll on the sofa during their breaks between classes.
Roger Naugles was the type of man Gertrude longed to submit her maidenly pleasures to.
He had a thick, ten inch cock that ravaged her pussy like no man had ever done before.
And he thrilled and enthralled the prim yet sexy young lady with all the animal passion he could muster.
These bestial sex sessions behind the closed doors of the offices of the English Department kept Gertrude hungering for more hot cock.
Yet they had kept their relationship clandestine; Roger had a very rich wife and a baby on the way, and it was certainly to his advantage to keep the entire affair secret.
Gertrude stared longingly at her lover's ass as he swaggered down the hall.
She reminisced about how wonderful it was when Professor Naugles fucked her on the sofa in her office.
He was so forceful, so powerful, that the woman felt like she was being raped.
And she loved every second that passed with Roger's huge donkey dick plunging up her moist, hot pussy.
Their sex was almost animalistic in its simplicity. Pure, basic fucking.
Nothing at all like the sadistic lesbian passions that the perverted mind of Harrison Young had conjured up for his first essay in English Composition 101.
Gertrude sighed as her lover disappeared around the hall.
At moments like these, when she was once again confronted with a young, virile member of the student body who was hot after her splendid body with obscene thoughts floating through his foul little minds, she needed to feel Roger's firm, manly touch.
She longed to be held in his big, hairy arms and have him whisper sweet nothings in her ear.
But Gertrude supposed he must have a student conference to attend at that moment.
Otherwise, he would certainly have taken a detour to her office to "discuss depart mental issues."
Gertrude slinked sexily up to her office door, unlocked it, turned on her desk lamp, and sat down to correct some of the essays.
The graceful young woman moved like a feline. Her entire body seemed to exude an aura of unbridled, untamed sexuality.
But Gertrude's looks and mannerisms were the only things that hinted at sensuality.
Mentally, the woman was a prude.
And the pornographic essay that had been turned into her bothered the young professor.
It hinted at things she did not want to think about.
This Harrison Young, whoever he was, must have run home to his dorm room and wanked on his cock as he thought of his new English professor.
He had probably envisioned her in the place of Charlene: desperate for lust and pain, begging her mistresses to whip her and torment her for being such a bad little girl.
Gertrude shook her head in disgust and leafed through the next few typewritten essays.
A girl had told about her summer vacation to Florida with so many spelling and punctuation errors that Gertrude had no other choice but to mark the paper a D and scribble a note telling her to rewrite the entire thing with a dictionary close at hand.
Another girl had written about her pet dog called Nebuchadnezzar, and a boy had told about the fraternal feelings present in his high school football team.
Gertrude found she could not keep her mind on these mundane, trite matters.
Sitting alone in her office, the dim desk lamp casting an eerie glow over the papers, the petite college professor found her thoughts drifting back to the horrors that were befalling Charlene under the supervision of her mistress, Vanessa.
Gertrude suddenly tore through the essays, searching fanatically for the forbidden composition.
Something about the essay pulled her towards it, demanded her attention.
She was utterly repulsed, yet somewhat fascinated by the story it told.
She found it and uttered a little cry.
Furtively glancing around her office, Gertrude made her way over to the door, clutching the typewritten pages full of sordid obscenity in her slender, tiny fingers.
She locked the door.
Settling back down in her chair, a tiny droplet of sweat forming on her brow, she opened the essay to the first page and reread the initial passages with morbid fascination.
This essay was the work of a sick mind!
A young sick mind that quite probably had the hots for Professor Gertrude Greengates!
Gertrude turned the pages with trembling hands and continued reading where she had left off.
The door to Charlene's dungeon of torture slowly swung open. The girl lifted her pretty head in anticipation.
Had her mistress come back to terrorize her body some more?
Charlene was horrified to find that she desperately hoped so. Her battered body ached so much already. Mistress Vanessa had prodded and poked at her firm, creamy flesh with so many items of torture that the girl could barely envision a spot on her young body that was not tainted with bruises. But she lusted for more.
She was starved for more pain.
Charlene wanted Mistress Vanessa to teach her a lesson she might never forget!
Gertrude turned the page with trembling fingers. She lit a cigarette, dropping the matches twice between her fluttering fingers.
The prim but perky professor continued to read.
Mistress Vanessa stood at the threshold to the chamber of horrors, her voluptuous, nubile form silhouetted in the dim light that glowed in the hallway from when she had come.
Charlene wailed in delight.
"You little whore!" Vanessa spat out. "You want me to hurt you some more, don't you?"
Charlene was torn as to what to reply. The woman aroused such deep passions in her, emotions that sent the tepid pussy juices between her young thighs churning.
But the beautiful woman also terrified her. Charlene knew she would never get out of her mistress' lair alive. She was a prisoner. A sex slave to the end.
And Mistress Vanessa would enjoy each new torment, each new punishment, that she ravaged the young girl's body with.
Charlene struggled to break free from the ropes that bound her body. Mistress Vanessa had pierced the nipples of her firm, fleshy breasts and had attached tiny rings strung up with thin, coarse rope. The rope wound around the girls' body, digging into her delicate, tender flesh.
Every time Charlene moved, she could feel the ropes scraping against her skin.
"You want me to shove that big iron dildo up your foul little pussy, don't you?" Vanessa said, her eyes blazing with lust. "You want me to shove it all the way up your hole until the spikes dig into your pussy lips, don't you?" charlene stared at the gorgeous woman.
She felt heat rising between her thighs.
"DON'T YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH??.'!!!" Vanessa demanded to know.
And suddenly Charlene could handle her desires, her cunt-hungry passions no longer.
"Y-YESH YES, MISTRESS VANESSA!!!" the girl wailed, totally out of control of her senses. "PLEASE!! RAPE MY FILTHY TWAT WITH THAT BIG IRON ROD!! OH, PLEASE!! PLEASE!!! I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU!! JUST LET ME UCK YOUR PUSSY!! PLEASE!!"
Gertrude gasped, utterly repulsed.
Her cigarette, burning neglectedly in her trembling fingers, had burned down to the butt.
"You silly little cunt!" Vanessa growled. "You're NEVER going to be able to lick my pussy! My pussy is only for good little girls. And you, Charlene, have been a very, very BAD girl. And bad girls deserve only one thing. PUNISHMENT!!!"
Tears welled up in Charlene's young eyes.
"P-please?" the girl begged in a timid, pitiful voice. "Please?"
Mistress Vanessa threw back her head and shrieked with cruel laughter.
She ran towards the pleading girl, grabbed the handle of the huge iron dildo that had been lodged up Charlene's ravaged cunt, and thrust it in.
Charlene screamed in anguish.
The thick iron pole seared her flesh, raped her tender pussy tissues.
Mistress Vanessa paid no heed to the girls' wails of agony. She plunged the rod up to the hilt in the girl's sweaty cunt.
"That'll teach you to be a sniveling little whore!" the woman spat out.
Mistress Vanessa turned quickly and ran out of the dungeon, slamming the door behind her and leaving Charlene writhing on the floor in agony, her body bound, her pussy ravaged, and her mind reeling in torturous uncertainty.
Charlene had been abandoned by the only woman she loved.
And now she found herself battered, bruised and alone. Totally alone.
CHAPTER TWO
"So, I would have to say that the majority of you need a bit of work on basic grammatical skills. Anyone who needs remedial training should go see one of the tutors at the times and places listed on the blackboard," Gertrude said to the lecture hall full of freshmen. "Don't forget, you have to be able to pass this class in order to sign up for any other one hundred or two hundred level courses. And I don't see how some of you will be able to do it without some additional training that I, unfortunately, will not be able to give during a one hour a day class. You should have learned all of this in your high school English classes. Okay, class dismissed."
There was general activity in the lecture hall as the students gratefully ran out of their nine o'clock class.
"Oh, and may I please see Harrison Young at my desk?" Gertrude yelled above the din.
She had not really forgotten to call the boy a few moments earlier; his name had lingered in her mind and on the tip of her tongue all night and all morning long.
But she had chickened out for a second.
Gertrude Greengates didn't feel too secure about meeting the author of the disgusting tale between Charlene and her sadistic mistress.
But the young college professor knew she had to.
It was a duty that she, as an academic authority figure, was required to perform.
Throughout the hour-long class, she had nervously glanced amongst the sea of young, innocent, freshly-scrubbed faces that seemed typical of freshmen students.
Not a single one of them looked like a sordid, perverted writer of the vulgar pornographic material that had passed her desk.
Yet one of them must have been.
Gertrude tapped the corner of her desk in the front of the lecture hall uneasily.
Perhaps she should have arranged a meeting with Professor Naugles on hand after the class.
What if this deranged student decided to take her right then and there in the middle of the lecture hall!
One never knew with these perverted types!
But Gertrude Greengates almost heaved a sigh of relief when the entirety of her Beginning Composition class had exited the hall.
The mysterious Harrison Young had not stepped forward.
And suddenly, Professor Greengates realized that this was not a cause for relief.
It was, rather, a cause for alarm.
The writer of that vulgar, sadistic essay was not prepared to make himself known.
What if some student continually turned in revolting essays like the one he written for her class the day before, and never showed his face.
What if he lurked outside the lecture hall one day, just waiting to attack and maim her sexually?
Gertrude lingered behind her desk a while longer, staring forlornly at the completely empty lecture hall.
The pretty professor was shaking uncontrollably.
She gathered a few study materials she had brought with her and ran up the steps to the safety of the hallway.
Sweat broke out on her brow as she glided down the hallway to greet her 10.00 AM Writing and Reason class.
*****
The next morning, Gertrude Greengates sat in the empty lecture hall after her Beginning Composition class had been dismissed.
Her trembling hand hovered uncertainly over the pile of papers that had just been placed on her desk.
The class had turned in their second essay of the semester.
Would Harrison Young have written a follow up to the bizarre saga of Charlene and Mistress Vanessa?
Gertrude hoped not.
She desperately wished that the sick practical joker had had his laugh, and was now prepared to leave the college professor alone.
Gertrude had checked the class roster the afternoon before.
There was no Harrison Young listed in her class.
There was no Harrison Young even listed at the entire college of Southeastern University of Minnesota!
Gertrude thought the entire incident rather unsettling.
She had discarded the first story in the waste paper basket of her office the evening before.
But this morning, before she had taught her nine o'clock class, the young professor had torn through the collected waste, desperate to retrieve the offending material.
She justified her actions by telling herself that the paper could be used as evidence in case she was eventually confronted by the deranged author and harassed by him in any way.
But deep down inside, Gertrude realized that she desired to read the essay over and over again.
The characters fascinated her.
The pain that Mistress Vanessa inflicted on the young girl who lusted after the gorgeous domina-trix's voluptuous body sent emotional shivers down Gertrude's back.
Were they shivers of fear?
Or shivers of sexual excitement?
Gertrude's conscience told her the former.
But the woman secretly harbored half-formed fears that she had rummaged desperately through the garbage can for the paper because the contents of the story really did turn her on.
Mistress Vanessa had shoved the thick iron rod up Charlene's cunt!
And the girl had screamed for help!
Gertrude had been shocked and repulsed the first time she had read the story.
But by the third rereading, she had to admit that Harrison Young was quite a talented writer.
And that Mistress Vanessa was quite a lady.
Of course, Gertrude would never tell anyone what she really thought about the essay, not even the mythical Harrison Young himself.
In fact, the unknown author scared the woman the more she thought about him furtively pecking away at the keys on his typewriter in the dim light of his dorm room, his roommates fast asleep, on hand holding his bulging crotch, and a sardonic smile spreading over his youthful features.
She could almost envision him clamping his hand down around his throat to avoid giggling obscenely at the horrible scenes of torture and punishment he was painting.
Gertrude might have deemed the story mildly intriguing from a professional's point of view, then, but she had no desire to meet the disturbed young creature who had been its creator.
The alter ego of Harrison Young was a sick, sick man.
And he frightened the shit out of Gertrude Greengates.
The college professor stared blankly at the pile of essays on the lecture room desk.
She really should just pick them up and run to her ten o'clock class, Writing and Reason.
But curiosity had piqued Gertrude's attention, and the woman wondered over and over if another sordid little vignette of mutilation and lesbian erotica lurked amongst the awkward scribblings of typical teen-aged subjects: dating, cars and movies.
Was a tale of torture and terror, of bloodthirsty lust, lying in ambush between the crisp white pages covered with typewritten figures, just biding its time until Gertrude's prim little eyes gobbled up its lewd, obscene lines with fascinated disgust?
Gertrude just had to know!
She would never be able to conduct her ten o'clock class without knowing if Harrison Young's foul and filthy fingers had stuck again.
The papers would burn tauntingly in her hands as she carried them down the hall.
The pretty professor suddenly let out a low moan of frustration.
She tore through the stack of essays like a thing possessed.
Her mild demeanor was gone.
Her composure had entirely disappeared.
Page after page flipped by her staring eyes.
Name after name passed through her quivering fingers.
And suddenly, Gertrude gasped in shock.
There, close to the bottom of the pile, was a second essay from Harrison Young!
Forgetting for the moment all about the Writing and Reason class she had to lecture in a few minutes, Gertrude pounced on the essay, pulled it savagely out of the pile and turned to the opening page.
Her lips were trembling, her knees were weak.
What was coming over her?
She had never reacted to pornography in this manner before!
She placed her pince-nez on the end of her nose with shaking fingers.
Gertrude poured nervously over the first typewritten page.
She gasped as she read:
Becky was a young, nubile nymphette. She had nice big tits and a moist, hot cunt.
The things that this cute little girl enjoyed more than anything in the world were a good hard fuck and a brutal, flesh-shreading beating.
Becky loved for her cunt to be raped by a big, hard slab of fuckmeat.
And she hungered to feel her body being attacked and battered, bitten and scratched.
Becky needed a mistress.
A mistress who would teach her that bad little girls get the punishment they deserve.
Bad little girls who want hot, hard cock up their filthy pussies had to be beaten and whipped by their mistresses.
They needed to be disciplined.
And Becky definitely needed discipline.
Becky needed a mistress to teach her how to be a good little girl.
A good little girl who would not let a thick, throbbing fucktool enter her dirty, slimy pussy.
Becky needed Mistress Xaviera!
Gertrude thrust the papers from her hand.
The prim yet sexy college professor was intrigued, horrified and frightened at what she had just read.
She glanced around the lecture hall wildly.
It suddenly seemed to be too large, too empty.
Gertrude's whole body trembled uncontrollably.
She glanced at her watch and suddenly sprang from her chair with a moan of dismay.
It was five after ten.
She was late for her next class!
Grabbing the pile of essays from her Beginning Composition class, Gertrude Greengates ran up the steps and out of the lecture hall.
She would have to finish reading about Becky and Mistress Xaviera during her lunch break!
*****
Gertrude snuck into her office and turned on the light.
She locked the door.
The prim little college professor sat down at her desk and opened a container of strawberry yogurt.
She pulled the pile of compositions from her nine o'clock class closer to her and put on her pince-nez.
She picked out Harrison Young's essay, that offensive yet highly interesting composition.
Gertrude numbly let the yogurt fill her mouth as she continued to read:
Becky had often heard about the sordid, dark little sex clubs that had sprung up in the seedy section of town.
But the naive young girl had no idea what went on in these dens of lust. Her parents kept her sheltered from the horrors of modern society and forbade her to even go outside the security of their warm, loving, but infuriatingly boring happy home once darkness had descended upon the streets of their town.
Becky, being a curious young lass, always longed to see what lewd, vulgar acts were committed in these houses of sin.
She dreamed about it day and night, night and day.
Until one day, she could no longer stand being in the dark.
When her parents were slumbering deeply under their clean, warm sheets, Becky stole out her bedroom window dressed in her best Sunday dress and snuck her way to the unbridled pleasures of life downtown.
The streets were full of strange and obscene characters who stared at the young girl stumbling along the brashly-lit neon-lined sidewalks wearing nothing but a frilly white frock.
Downtown was crawling with life at this late hour of the evening, a time when Becky had thought that no one was stirring while she dozed in her bedroom at home, dreaming of the forbidden delights she would soon experience.
And, finally, the shy young girl reached her destination: Club Sex.
She had often heard its name whispered on the lips of the horrible, street-wise girls that littered her high school.
Club Sex was supposed to be tough.
It was supposed to be slimy and dirty and decadent.
But, most of all, it was supposed to be fun. Very fun.
And Becky needed some fun in her mundane, trite little life.
That evening she was going to receive it.
But the enjoyment she received that night was not going to be anything like laughing with her parents while playing a hot game of Scrabble, or giggling at some amusing clown at the circus.
This was going to be a type of fun the young girl had never experienced. A type of fun she had never known existed.
Becky was going to find fun of a sexual nature.
Strange, brutal, cruel fun.
Sadistic fun.
Becky was going to engage in sadistic fuck action, in sadistic lesbian submission that would teach the girl a lesson she would never forget.
But Becky had no realization of this as she handed the hulking black man at the door the fifteen dollars entry fee she had acquired after weeks of saving her allowance.
Becky just knew that she was going to have a better time than she had ever had at home. And she knew that her fifteen dollars would be well-spent.
The young girl in the virginal frilly dress walked through the doors of Club Sex, her eyes opened wide.
Becky gasped.
She had never seen such a sight in her life as the communal display of orgasmic delights that greeted her naive, blinking eyes.
Becky saw naked, firm young bodies everywhere.
They were fucking, sucking, licking, slurping ... all of which the girl had never engaged in her entire life.
And here were hot young bodies: firm, sweaty males pumping their loads deep up the cunts of wailing bitches; muscular, meaty men grabbing women's private parts and forcing them to suck their hard, blood-engorged cocks and swallow their hot, sticky loads; naked, fuck-hungry girls, begging for a taste of another girls' pussy juices, shoving their fingers deep up the twats of their neighbor, and yanking at the same time on the massive tool of the closest male.
It was all so weird, so wonderful, so bizarre! And so terrifying!
The little girl had never known such acts occurred between two humans!
Becky suddenly wondered, even as she stood rooted to the spot, fascinated, if she should just turn around and leave the horrible, stinking orgy behind.
She had had enough.
It repulsed her young, half-formed sensibilities.
Becky turned to leave, trembling in fear at the obscene acts ofpassionvnd lust that were displayed before her unbelieving eyes.
But, suddenly, her arm was being held in a vice-like grip by a strong hand that dug into her tender flesh like a claw.
"You're not going anywhere, dear. You're MY little sex slave for the evening!" insisted a deep, firm voice.
Becky spun around in fear to see who had suddenly held her captive. The young girl gasped.
The voice had been so deep, the grip so powerful, that the naive schoolgirl had assumed she had been seized by a man.
But it was not a man who had demanded that the girl be his sex slave.
It was a woman.
The most beautiful woman Becky had ever laid eyes on in her life.
"I am your Mistress Xaviera," the woman announced.
Becky stared.
Mistress Xaviera was decked out in black leather. The material clung to her shapely figure, outlining her firm, slender thighs; shapely, round ass; high, voluptuous tits crowned with hard, erect nipples.
The beautiful woman's dark eyes bored into Becky's.
The little girl groaned.
The woman's hand was clutching her slender arm so brutally, so savagely!
"L-let me go!" Becky protested timidly. Mistress Xaviera sneered at her nascent sex slave.
"You silly little bitch!" the woman spat out. "I have chosen you as my partner for the evening. There is no way you can escape!"
"B-but ... but...." Becky gasped, attempting to struggle free from the woman's tenacious grasp.
"WHORE!!" Mistress Xaviera screamed, suddenly lashing out with her free hand and smacking the girl brutally across the face.
Becky tumbled to the floor in her frilly white dress.
She yelped in terror and tried to scramble across the floor for refuge.
But she could not escape the omniscient sex mistress.
Xaviera kicked Becky's crawling body with her heavy, black boots.
The young girl shrieked in pain as the pointed toes of the boots lashed out at her tender skin again and again.
"Help me somebody!" Becky called out in pain.
But no one heeded the girl's cries for help.
They were too busy fucking and sucking and whipping to be concerned about a little girl in a white dress being kicked across the floor by her mistress.
Scenes like that occurred regularly at Club Sex and nobody gave them a second thought.
That is what made the club so hot, so sexy, so fun.
And Becky would just have to learn exactly what type of fun the club offered.
If she didn't enjoy it at the beginning, she would be forced to enjoy it by the end of the evening.
She really had no other choice.
Mistress Xaviera struck out at the girl's young body with her steel-tipped boots until there were angry red welts covering the entirety of her tender, creamy flesh.
Becky screamed in agony, wondering if the woman had broken any skin and is she was sending pools of blood dripping from her body.
But Mistress Xaviera was only beginning her torture of the newest of her sex slaves.
Blood would pour later.
Now it was only time for pain.
A lot of pain.
Excruciating pain that would punish Becky and teach the girl a few things about discipline and obedience that she would never, ever dare to for get.
Mistress Xaviera grabbed the girl by her long, blonde hair and brutally dragged her into a corner.
Becky screamed and kick, hollered and shouted as he felt her locks being torn from the roots.
Spasms of pain wracked her scalp, and her body throbbed and ached from the savage kicks she had received from Mistress Xaviera's heavy leather boots.
"You little cunt!" the woman screamed at the sobbing, terrified girl. "Get your ass in that corner and prepare for me to fuck you!"
Becky could not believe what she was hearing. How did this strange, terrifying woman think she was going to fuck her?
The girl hardly had time to ponder the dilemma, however, for Mistress Xaviera suddenly thrust Becky's struggling young body into a corner and reached out with her crawl-like hands.
The beautiful sex mistress tore the girl's dress from her nubile, virgin form.
Becky screamed and attempted to hide her tiny, pert tits and v-shaped forest of dense pubic hair from the woman's lecherous stares. ft was no use.
The shy little girl's trim, shapely body had been exposed for all to see.
Becky was mortified, terrified and humiliated.
And her poor body was wracked with pain.
"H-how are you going to ... to...." Becky began.
She could not bring herself to spit out the forbidden word.
"How am I going to FUCK you?" Mistress Xaviera asked, sneering lewdly.
The trembling girl nodded vigorously, tears streaming down her pretty face.
"With THIS!" Mistress Xaviera announced, suddenly pulling a thick, twelve inch iron rod covered with sharp, savage spikes.
Becky stared at the horrible, strange torture device and whimpered in terror.
"B-but you'll kk-kill me with that thing!" the girl gasped. "I-it'll rip my poor little hole to shreads!"
"It certainly will," Becky's mistress said, smiling in fuck-hungry glee. "And I'm going to make sure you enjoy every second of it!"
Becky stared at the massive, terrifying sex tool, quivering uncontrollably.
"You better enjoy it," Mistress Vanessa said. "Or I really WILL kill you!"
Becky sobbed in horror and clawed at the wall she had been thrown against in vain. There was no escape from the horrible, sex-starved woman and her thick, spiked dildo.
Becky's tender pussy tissues were going to be impaled on the brutal metal spikes, and there was not a single thing she could do to in defense!
CHAPTER THREE
Harrison Young's second essay ended at that point.
Gertrude removed her pince-nez with sweaty fingers and stared at the typewritten pages with a mixed feeling of fascination and repulsion.
Harrison Young must be a very sick individual.
And Gertrude was not altogether sure she would enjoy meeting him.
The pretty English professor had a feeling that she would have no choice in that matter.
The two pornographic essays suggested a disturbed, obsessive personality who enjoyed seeing women suffer.
A misogynist!
And Gertrude somehow felt that she played a very big part in this disturbed student's fantasies.
Why else would he have submitted the obscene compositions to her, and under a pseudonym at that!
A shiver ran down Gertrude's spine.
The perky little professor wrapped her sweater around her firm, taut breasts.
It had suddenly gotten very cold in her office, she felt.
Gertrude opened the middle drawer of her desk and pulled out the first essay Harrison Young had turned in.
It was still covered with coffee stains and cigarette ashes from its short visit to the garbage can.
The typewritten pages were crumpled.
But Gertrude ran her slender fingers over its surface, turned the title page, and began to read about the torments that were being inflicted on Charlene once again.
There was a loud rapping at the door and Gertrude almost screamed in fear.
She had no idea she had been so tense while reading the repulsive lines the unknown hand had put down on paper.
"W-who's there?" the woman called out nervously.
"Professor Naugles," came the reply. Gertrude reddened.
She hurriedly shoved the two offensive compositions in her desk drawer, straightened her shaggy blonde hair, and slunk to the door.
She unlocked it.
Roger stood there in the hallway.
Gertrude's heart melted.
She loved the hunky, handsome man so much!
"Do come in, Professor," Gertrude said, adopting the initial formal attitude the two kept up when in public.
"Why, I don't mind if I do," Professor Naugles replied. "I wanted to discuss the department's budget for next semester with you."
The door was closed behind him.
Gertrude locked it.
She threw herself into Roger's firm, hairy arms.
"Oh, Roger! I love you!" the woman breathed in a tone of fuck-hungry lust.
Gone was the prim, proper English professor with pince-nez perched at the end of her nose.
Gertrude had magically transformed into a hot, sex-crazed vixen in the arms of her brawny, swarthy lover.
Roger's lips pressed against Gertrude's moist, waiting mouth.
His tongue invaded her mouth, pushing her teeth apart and thrusting eagerly down the woman's throat.
Gertrude gasped in rapture as her lover's strong hands caressed her sweaty, firm body.
Moments before, she had been shivering in disgust and fear at the pornographic obscenities a perverted mind in her class had tainted her day with.
But Harrison Young and his tormented lesbian lovers were forgotten once Roger wrapped his virile arms around her.
Roger Naugles spread Gertrude's shapely legs apart with his foot.
His warm knee gently prodded the hot, moist area between her legs.
"Shit, Gertrude!" the man grunted. "We haven't fucked in quite a while! I've been hot all day long just thinking about you!"
"Oh, Roger! Me, too!" Gertrude breathed. "Fuck me! Fuck me with that big, hard cock of yours!"
With nobody else could the quiet, demure professor abandon herself with such bestial passion.
But Roger did things to Gertrude that no other man could.
He made her hot.
And after the terrors she had read about that day, all Gertrude wanted at that moment was a good, solid fuck from her towel of masculinity and virility.
Roger's firm fingers grasped at the buttons of Gertrude's blouse.
He tore the item of clothing from her shivering, young form.
He stared at Gertrude's voluptuous breasts that were held captive in the close confines of her bra.
He reached around and undid the snap, still plunging his tongue deeply down her throat.
Gertrude moaned in delight.
Blood had swarmed to the meaty shaft of Roger's thick cock, and it throbbed in his pants, begging to be set free.
Gertrude could feel the mighty fucklance pressing up against her creamy thighs.
She wanted to feel that massive cock gliding up her moist, cock-starved hole.
She reached down with trembling fingers and unzipped her lover's pants.
She ran her fingers along the elastic waist of Roger's underwear.
She thrust the obstructing item from her lover's waist and his pulsating shaft sprang forth in gratitude.
"Shit, baby! Let me rape you with my big, hard cock!" the professor grunted, pressing Gertrude's back against the office wall.
Gertrude moaned in rapture.
"Anything you want, my big hunk of manhood!" the woman groaned.
Her pussy juices were flowing like a waterfall.
Her dense bush of pubic hair was drenched beyond belief.
Gertrude Greengates sighed as Roger's hands crept up her stockinged thighs and fiddled with her frilly pink panties.
"Shit! You're nice and hot and wet!" the tall, dark man muttered.
"Just for you, my dear!" Gertrude panted.
She could feel Roger's thick fingers pulling at her panties.
In seconds, the lingerie had been stripped from her pelvic area.
His thumb rubbed up against her tiny, throbbing clit, sending spasms of delight coursing through the prim professor's young body.
"Lemme fuck you!" he whispered in her ear.
Gertrude certainly was not going to stop him!
"Yes! Yes!" she breathed like a thing possessed. "I want that thick slab of cock up my hot hole! Oh, yeah, Roger! Do it to me! Do it to me with your big, fat dick!"
And Roger did.
Still pressing the passion-filled professor against the office wall, he positioned his pulsating prick at the entrance of her trembling pussy.
He plunged in, and Gertrude's eyes rolled to the heavens.
She felt as if she had been impaled on the end of a thick, hot billy club.
Roger's cock was so big, so good!
Gertrude just couldn't get enough of that thick slab of fuckmeat!
Roger had plunged the entirety of his massive shaft deep up her pussy.
Her moist sugar walls wrapped around the plunging tool and gripped and grabbed at it with fuck-hungry lust.
And he began shoving his massive shaft deep up Gertrude's dripping hole.
He pounded into her as the woman's back was thrust into the wall.
He grunted with savage delight and sweat appeared on his laboring brow.
Gertrude's eyes reached for the heavens, and she moaned every time she felt her lover's meaty shaft filling her hole to the brim.
She loved the way Roger's heavy, hairy balls smacked against her pelvic bone.
She loved the way he thrust brutally into her, making sure she felt every inch of his amazingly long cock.
Roger Naugles was hung like a young bull! And Gertrude's dripping pussy was just tight and hot enough to be able to stand the thick girth of the mighty member, yet still be able to please Roger by gripping his cock with power and fury.
"Shit! I'm coming, baby!" the professor grunted.
And suddenly Gertrude moaned joyously as she felt Roger's back tense.
The woman could feel Roger's legs becoming taut.
He was going to come!
Her hot, hung lover was going to shoot his load deep up her tight, moist twat!
Gertrude longed to wail in ecstasy.
She wanted to scream in delight.
But the others in the English Department of the university would surely have heard them had she carried on that way.
So Gertrude swiveled her hips to meet Roger's powerful strokes and continued purring in rapture like the little sex kitten that she was.
Roger's hips thrust backwards and forwards with such intensity that Gertrude knew she would have been thrown to the ground had she not been impaled up against the office wall.
And suddenly, Professor Naugles could stand the feel of the woman's tight pussy walls no longer.
His sperm shot up from his balls and exploded into Gertrude's tight hole.
Gertrude clutched her lover's back in delight as she felt her hot, hungry pussy gulping down load after load of Roger's thick, creamy jism.
Gertrude gasped and panted.
She writhed against the wall in wild abandon.
Her body was wracked with wave after wave of shuddering orgasmic pleasure.
No one could make Gertrude forget the problems of a difficult day at the university like Roger.
Professor Roger Naugles and his whopper of a cock.
Gertrude hugged her handsome, hung lover with trembling hands.
"Oh, Roger, you're so good!!" the woman breathed.
"And you're damn hot and tight!" the man grunted.
His supply of fuck juice had been depleted.
Roger pulled his quickly-softening cock out of Gertrude's totally satisfied cunt.
He pulled up his underpants and trousers that had fallen to his ankles.
Gertrude fell from the wall and pulled up her panties. She rearranged her skirt and gazed lovingly at the tall, brawny man who had just fucked her.
"Wow!" she exclaimed. "This has been one heck of a lunchbreak!"
She glanced at her watch.
"Oh, my Lord! It's almost five to two! I better get ready for my English Composition Two class!"
"Okay, baby. I'll see you soon," Roger said, a sexy grin still planted on his handsome face.
Professor Naugles unlocked the door, winked at Gertrude, and swaggered out into the hallway.
Gertrude grabbed the essays from her nine o'clock composition class and threw them into a file cabinet.
She checked her lipstick out in the little mirror on her desk, locked the middle drawer that contained Harrison Young's two pornographic compositions, and ran out of the office to greet her two o'clock class.
*****
During her lunch break the next day, Gertrude Greengates was hidden in her office once again.
The door was tightly shut and securely locked.
The small lamp on her desk cast a dim glow on the sheafs of paper over which the perky, pretty professor poured.
Her nine o'clock class had turned in their third assignment.
As soon as the students had exited the lecture hall, she had torn through the pile of typewritten essays with almost fanatical haste, and pulled out the forbidden prose of Harrison Young.
She knew she wouldn't have time to read the paper between classes, so she had merely placed the composition on the bottom of the pile.
Just so she would know exactly where it was.
As soon as her morning classes were over, Gertrude had sprang to the elevator, her lips dry, her knees weak as she contemplated what new sexual endeavors the perverted mind of the phantom student had conjured up for her reading pleasure.
Gertrude knew that her fascination over the papers, and her hunger to find out who had been writing them was making her lax in other areas of her life.
She still had not corrected the half of the second essays that the nine o'clock class had turned in; now they were already on their third!
Gertrude knew she shouldn't be huddled over Harrison Young's paper at that moment.
She should really be correcting the other student's compositions.
But the young woman couldn't help it.
Something pulled her to the lewd scenes of violent, painful sex time and time again.
She had read and reread Harrison Young's first two papers time and time again.
Now, Gertrude had a third essay to add to her quickly-growing collection of sadistic, obscene pornography.
Pince-nez balanced on her nose, her head bent forward over the desk, Gertrude Greengates started to read the newest addition to her collection:
Juliette Jones was the Queen of her high school prom.
The bubbly, beautiful buxom blonde carried herself gracefully through the corridors of her school building, exuding an aura of glamour and vivaciousness.
Every hot-blooded guy in the school had one recurring wet dream: to fuck the living hell out of Juliette Jones.
They would lie in bed at night, pulling on their long, hard cocks, dreaming of tearing the clothes from the arrogant, gorgeous bitch's voluptuous body and shoving their cunt-hungry pricks deep up Juliette's hot, dripping twat.
But Juliette had no use for these little boys in her school.
For the high school queen needed a Real Man to satisfy her desires.
And Juliette Jones was definitely a young woman who had plenty of desires to fill.
She was as horny as a bitch-dog in heat, yet never succumbed to her classmate's advances.
Juliette deeply wanted to have her pussy ravaged by a thick, hard, solid cock.
But she also wanted something else.
She wanted pain.
Juliette Jones was a masochist who would go to any lengths to feel her skin tingling with the horrible sensations of agony and anguish.
Accidentally scalding her arm with boiling water turned her on. Slicing her finger open with a large butcher knife while chopping onions set her pussy juices flowing.
Juliette loved the sight of blood.
Especially if it was her own.
And what the girl loved most of all was for her ruby red blood to drain from her body while under the every command of a huge, hulking, hot and hung fuck-master.
Juliette wanted to be whipped by a master.
She wanted to be battered and abused.
She longed for some handsome, horrible stranger to rape her brutally with a coke bottle, spit in her face, call her a whore and whip and defile her body with the utmost severity.
All in the name of love.
Juliette licked her luscious lips in fuck-hungry anticipation of the day when she would meet her master.
How she longed to be forced to submit her nubile, young flesh to his every command!
How she lusted for his huge, strong hands to smack her tender pink ass, slap her pretty, child-like face and squeeze her tiny pink nipples until she wailed in anguish.
Juliette wanted to be attacked savagely by some big brute of a sadist!
She wanted he man to be draped in leather, to force her to undergo untold horrors and unending agony.
Before he impaled her on the end of his thick slab of pulsating fuckmeat!
These are the things Juliette wanted more than anything in the world.
And one day, the bubbly teenager's dream came true.
Juliette was strutting down the hallways of her school one day, shaking her firm little ass as she usually did.
The last class of the day had ended, and the rest of the students were running to their lockers to collect their books and jackets and escape from the boredom of their classrooms.
But Juliette Jones was not concerned about leaving the school building on time that day.
For she had received a note in her locker that had read: I WANT TO FUCK YOUR TIGHT, HOT PUSSY WITH MY BIG COCK. I WANT TO SEE YOUR CUNT TORN TO SHREADS AND DRIPPING WITH BLOOD. YOU ARE A SLUTTY, FILTHY WHORE AND DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED. I CAN HELP PUNISH YOU, YOU HATEFUL BITCH. AFTER SCHOOL, IN THE BOY'S ROOM. BE THERE. OR I'LL KILL YOU.
Whereas most school girls and virtually all prom queens would have screamed in terror upon finding a similar message in their locker, Juliette found that the nasty note sent shivers of sexual delight coursing up her spine.
Her cunt torn to shreads and dripping with blood!
The girl certainly liked the sound of that!
Punishment for a filthy whore and hateful bitch!
Well, Juliette had to admit she certainly fit into both categories! And she was damn good looking to top it all off!
She definitely needed punishment!
She certainly WANTED punishment!
And now some unknown, hot, hunky fuckstud was going to chastise her like the dirty cunt she really was!
Juliette simply couldn't wait for the school day to end!
She had squirmed in her chair all through Biology class, feeling her pussy juices flowing at the mere though of what tortures awaited her tender skin in the boy's room after class.
And if she didn't go, she would be brutally murdered!
Juliette thought that that death threat was pure icing on the cake.
A hot, young master ready to kill at any moment was about to punish Juliette for her whorish deeds in the mortifying surrounding of a public male pis-shouse!
Just what Juliette had always dreamed of!
When the corridor near the boy's room on the east wing of the school was almost empty, Juliette glanced around furtively to make sure no one was watching.
Then, her pussy quivering uncontrollably, her nipples erect with delight and her hands shivering with fear of the unknown, Juliette snuck through the threshold and into the boy's room.
Her footsteps echoed in the tiled room.
When she stood still, there was silence.
"Hello?" the girl whispered. "Is anyone there?"
"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" came a gruff, demanding voice from behind one of the stalls.
"Y-yes, sir," Juliette mumbled, feeling the simultaneous rising of passion and terror in her fuck-crazed loins.
Outside, the noise of her schoolmates vacating the building became less and less noticeable.
Juliette stood in the middle of the public bathroom, wondering what her sex master in the middle stall looked like.
Soon, silence permeated throughout the entirety of the empty building.
Juliette was alone with her master.
The stall door was kicked open and Juliette jumped in terror.
She stared.
A huge, muscular man with eyes that burned like red-hot embers and an evil, sardonic grin stood before her.
She fell to her knees on the tiled floor before her master.
Juliette had never seen such a fine specimen of manhood in her life.
The man was well over six feet tall, had thick, black hair and boasted a body bulging from head to toe with beefy muscles.
He could crush Juliette with his bare hands if he wanted to!
Juliette gasped as she gazed between the man's meaty, muscular legs.
The massive bulge that throbbed underneath the black leather pants could only mean one thing: her master was hung like a horse!
Juliette had to control herself from thrusting down her own tight jeans and plunging her fingers deep in her overflowing twat.
This man reeked of danger.
He reeked of sex.
And he reeked of death.
Juliette yearned to feel his strong hands smacking her across the face. She wanted that dark, sexy man to lash her back with a thousand whips, to feel the thick strands of leather digging into her skin and making her blood pour down her creamy back.
And Juliette wanted the man to fuck her.
She wanted to feel his massive, mighty fucktool ravaging her pussy, pounding deep up her cunt and sending spasms of agony and pain coursing through her body until she screamed for more.
And Juliette had a feeling she was going to get all this. And more.
"P-please, master," Julie stuttered, still bowing in supplication before her sex master. "Please let me see that big, hard cock of yours!"
The swarthy, dangerous man stared down at the pitiful figure of the trembling little schoolgirl that was to be his new sexslave.
He chuckled sardonically.
"You silly little cunt," the man growled.
Without warning, he struck out at the kneeling girl with the back of his strong, right hand.
Juliette screamed and went sprawling across the bathroom floor.
She touched the throbbing spot on her face where the man had smacked her.
It hurt.
But it hurt good.
And suddenly, Juliette found she had not ime to regain her senses as the man suddenly lashed out at her prone figure with his thick, black boots.
The powerful man kicked Juliette's young, tender body again and again.
The girl screamed in horror and pain as the boot hit her in the stomach, making her double over in pain.
He kicked her in the head, sending her flying across the cold tile floor once again.
He kicked her in the back, in the shin, in the tits.
Juliette was soon gasping in terror and spitting up bloody phlegm.
"Stop! Stop!" the tortured girl begged.
But her sex master continued kicking her as brutally as he could.
And Juliette loved very last kick.
Until she finally passed out.
When Juliette came to, she was stark naked.
Just as she had expected.
She was no longer in the boys' bathroom.
In fact, she was no longer in the school building.
She had been taken to some new, strange place that was totally bathed in darkness.
It was cold.
She had been thrown on a hard, iron table. Andfrom the table rose thick, sharp metal spikes. Juliette tried to move her bruised, battered body. She couldn't.
A large, splinter-filled wooden rod had been placed behind her back. Her arms were draped behind the rod at her elbows. The wood dug painfully into her skin, as did the ropes that secured the rod in place.
Juliette tried to struggle to her feet.
She screamed in anguish.
The young girl's foot had scraped up against one of the many metal spikes that littered the entire tabletop like a sea of sharp kitchen knives.
A door suddenly flew open, and her brawny sex master swaggered in.
"I see you have finally woken," the man said, his mouth curling to a cruel grin. "Perhaps it's time to finally do something with that pussy of yours. It's been hot and bothered for some time now. I think that perhaps we should cool it down."
"W-what are you talking about?" Juliette asked in a hushed whisper.
The young girl's body ached from the brutal kicking the man had wracked upon it. Her arms and back ached from the splinters that dug into her tender flesh. The ropes were digging savagely into her body.
Juliette was in total misery.
She had thought that perhaps she would have been able to handle any type of pain that her master would punish her with.
But she was already tired and tattered and torn. And she wanted to go home.
But the fun had only begun for her sex master. He was going to torture and torment his little sex slave for hours and hours before he would finally rape her ravaged pussy with his thick, hard bull-cock.
"I'm talking about giving your filthy pussy what it needs," the man snarled. "See these spikes on this table? I'm going to force you to sit on them, one by one. Your dirty, smelly cunt will feel their cold, harsh sharpness invading your moist, tender tissues. After about the third spike, your pussy will be so bloody and battered, you won't be able to feel much more. But there will still be about twenty or so to go. So this will be quite a trail for you. As a new sex slave. A few months from now when we play this game, your pussy will be so calloused and hard that you won't feel a thing! You'll find that you'll actually begin to enjoy it!" A few months?!
Juliette began to whimper in terror. She wanted to go home.
She had had no intention of being held prisoner to this mad sex maniac for months at a time!
She desperately had to escape!
But Juliette had a sinking feeling deep in her gut.
As her master roughly grabbed her and positioned her quivering, terrified cunt over the tip of the first shiny, sharp spike, Juliette knew that she was destined to be this cruel, hateful man's sex slave to the end....
The pretty prom queen screamed as the metal spike tore up her pussy walls....
And that was only the beginning....
Gertrude thrust the composition into the drawer with the other two.
"Disgusting!" the woman breathed, removing her pince-nez from her nose with trembling fingers.
The young college professor sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the pile of ungraded compositions that should have been finished the day before. A droplet of sweat ran from her brow. She wiped it off with a quivering hand. Gertrude sighed.
And opened the drawer to reread the third smut-filled essay once again.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Class! CLASS!" Professor Greengates called out.
These freshmen!
They still acted like they were in high school! It took ten-minutes just trying to get their attention!
Gertrude couldn't understand why they were so talkative, especially at nine o'clock on a Monday morning.
She stared apprehensively at the sea of young, bright faces that stared at her from the seats of the lecture hall.
One of those faces belonged to a deranged, sexual frustrated pervert.
A pervert who had been tormenting his English professor for the first week of the semester.
Now the second week had started, and Gertrude was determined to get to the bottom of the situation.
"Class, I absolutely DEMAND to know, which one of you is Harrison Young?" the young woman asked.
There was some general activity in the lecture hall as everyone stared at their neighbor, curious to know who the professor was talking about.
They were left in the dark.
No one admitted they were Harrison Young.
Gertrude sighed.
"I guess he must have dropped the course," Gertrude said aloud. "Okay, now we'll get back to our discussion on theme that we didn't finish on Friday. Get your notebooks out."
Gertrude continued conducting class, but the woman was barely aware of what she was saying.
All she could think about was the fact that one of the kids in that very room was probably at that very moment undressing her with his beady little eyes.
She was quite sure that Harrison Young had not, in fact, dropped the course.
She was certain that he was sitting in one of the many rows of the lecture hall, calling himself by his real name and taking notes from the blackboard.
Or was he?
Perhaps he was sitting in his seat scribbling down more violent scenes of sluttish sex to horrify and shock Gertrude with.
Gertrude began to stutter and finally dropped her chalk.
She picked it up and attempted to begin again.
But as she bent down to retrieve the chalk, she saw something sitting on the seat behind her desk that made her gasp in shock.
She had not sat in the chair that morning yet, and had had no reason to look behind the desk.
She wished she had before the class began.
Because suddenly she realized she was very possibly going to have a nervous breakdown in front of the one hundred and fifty students in her Beginning Composition class.
She stared at the seat of the chair in paralyzed horror.
Her face drained of blood.
She was locked in a state of near catatonic shock.
Her eyes bulged.
And suddenly she sprang for the item on the chair. Anger spread across her pretty features. Rage filled her voice as she held the object in the air with an outstretched hand and demanded to know:
"Who the hell put this vulgar, disgusting item on my chair?"
The students had been staring at their professor's strange behavior with a mixture of concern and amusement.
But when Professor Greengates held up a huge black dildo lined with heavy metal spikes, their young minds could only react in one manner.
They laughed.
It was nervous laughter, to be sure, but laughter nevertheless.
Gertrude gazed up at the offensive item she held in her hand.
And suddenly it repulsed her so much that she flung it to the ground in repulsion and burst into hysterical, uncontrollable tears.
Several students ran up to comfort her, other continued laughing, others began to whisper excitedly to one another.
The black iron dildo that had played a part in Harrison Young's composition about Becky and Mistress Xaviera had hit the back wall of the auditorium and rolled down the floor.
"A-are you alright, Professor Greengates?" one of the numerous students who surrounded the sobbing, terrified young lady asked.
Gertrude's entire body was a mass of jangled nerves. Her head bobbed up and down, her lips shivered, her hands were like jelly.
She burst into a fresh set of tears.
Suddenly, Professor Roger Naugles bounded through one of the doors of the lecture hall, ran down the stairs, and pushed the kids aside.
"All of you get out!" the swarthy, handsome professor ordered. "Class is over! Get out!"
The students were alternately puzzled, confused and frightened at what had just happened to their English professor.
But they quickly gathered their notebooks, textbooks, pen and pencils when Professor Naugles ordered them to leave the lecture hall.
In minutes, the two young lovers were alone.
Professor Naugles wrapped his big arms around Gertrude's trembling shoulders.
"Don't worry, everything's fine," he soothed, whispering gently in her ear.
Gertrude continued sobbing and shivering.
"What happened in here anyway?" Roger asked. "Did you get into a fight with one of the kids? I was just passing by and ... no?"
Gertrude had been shaking her head vigorously.
"What happened then?" Roger wanted to know.
Gertrude pointed at the spiked dildo with a quivering finger.
Roger gasped in horror when he saw the torture instrument.
"What the hell is that?" he wanted to know. He ran over to examine the item.
Gertrude's tears cascaded down her pretty face.
"Where did you find this?" he asked.
"O-on my chair," Gertrude sobbed. "I-it's a ... a ... Ohhhh!"
The woman couldn't being herself to spit out the word.
Her reeling mind wondered if perhaps she should tell Roger all about Harrison Young and his pornographic compositions.
But something held her back.
"Some of these kids are sick!" Professor Naugles said. "Goddamn fucking sickW"
He tossed the offending item into the wastepaper basket.
"Come on," he said. "I'm driving you home to get some rest. We'll have Professor Becker cancel the rest of your classes today."
And he wrapped his arms once again around Gertrude's shoulders as he picked the woman up off the floor and led her out of the lecture hall.
*****
Gertrude tossed and turned in her bed.
Roger had given her a sleeping pill, but it hadn't worked too well.
It only made the young professor's sleep more troubled, less in touch with reality.
As Gertrude's body flopped around uncomfortably, changing from position to position and droplets of sweat formed on her firm, young body, the woman drifted off into a bizarre, unexpected dreamland.
Gertrude was stark naked.
Her hands were bound together behind her back at the wrists with a thick, coarse wire.
Her nipples had been brutally pierced and two little hoops hung from the tiny pink paps.
The rope dug into her wrists. The hoops pinched her tits painfully.
Approaching Gertrude's naked figure was a woman.
A harsh, cruel woman with a strong, sinewy body almost muscular in its build.
She stared at Gertrude's fine, creamy thighs and firm, round tits with lust smoldering in her eyes.
Around her head she wore a black leather mask.
Around her waist hung a belt.
A belt that struck fear into Gertrude's little heart.
The woman's belt was made of steel. It hung down past her cunt like a bikini, and in fact looked like a bikini from behind.
But in the front, thick metal spikes poked out and curled up, forming a terrifying, tail-like structure that was just right for insertion.
For insertion into Gertrude's tender, pink pussy!
Gertrude imagined what those thick metal spikes would do to her delicate cunt walls.
She wailed in horror.
The woman was coming closer! And closer!
Soon, she would be right next to Gertrude! Although her feet were not bound, she found herself rooted to the spot. She couldn't move.
The woman was going to attack her beloved sugar walls with her garter belt of pain!
With her chastity belt of sin!
And there was nothing Gertrude could do to stop her!
She was stark naked and had absolutely no place to run to!
"Get your ass over here, cunt-sucker!" the terrible woman growled.
Gertrude was unable to move.
She could neither run to or run away from the woman.
"You silly bitch!" the amazon grunted. "Can't you even use your own two feet?"
The woman was now standing directly before Gertrude.
She pressed against the prim college professor with her ample tits.
Gertrude could feel the firm, hot flesh rubbing up against her own breasts.
"I'm gonna fuck you with my big metal dick," the woman breathed. "I'm gonna fucking tear your little cunt to shreads. You're gonna scream, but it'll be worth it, bitch."
Gertrude froze as the woman grappled her arms with strong hands covered with black leather gloves.
"First, let me feel those tits," the woman said.
Gertrude moaned as she felt her creamy jugs being manhandled by the bizarre young amazon who was going to attack her with the huge metal chastity belt.
The woman dug brutally into Gertrude's tits.
"Yeah, they feel good. Real good," the woman grunted.
Gertrude winced in pain as her captor pulled on the hoops that were attached to her nipples.
"Mmm! I like these!" the woman said, flashing Gertrude a lewd smile.
Gertrude begged, "Please! Please don't pull them off!"
"Silly bitch!" the woman laughed. "You think I'd ruin those marvelous tits of yours? Of course not! But I will ruin your twat. You've been very naughty lately. You've been letting Professor Naugles fuck your hot, tight pussy. But you shouldn't be. You've been a bad girl. A bad, bad girl!"
"N-no! Please!" Gertrude protested. "I promise, I won't let Professor Naugles near me again! Never! I promise! Please!"
"It's too late, my stupid little cunt!" the woman chuckled. "He's already made your pussy a stinking shithole of garbage. Your cunt is filthy and foul. It smells. I will have to take care of that. With my ... uh...."
The woman paused and glanced down at the metal belt that hung around her waist.
"With my iron dick," she chuckled, an evil grin playing on her thick, sensuous lips.
"NO! PLEASE!" begged Gertrude as the woman pulled her trembling, bound body closer to the upturned metal spikes.
"Too late, you filthy whore!" the amazon spat out.
And she thrust herself upon Gertrude's naked body.
Gertrude screamed in anguish as she felt the heavy metal spikes carving up her tender pussy walls, slicing through her skin and sending rivers of blood gushing out of her tender pussy lips and down her pale, trembling legs.
She was impaled on the woman's savagely spiked iron cock!
Gertrude opened her mouth and screamed and screamed and screamed.
And when she woke up, she was screaming, also.
The pretty college professor sprang up in bed, her body drenched in sweat, a fresh round of shrieking still lingering on her parched lips.
She was shuddering uncontrollably.
She lay her head back down on the pillow and sobbed herself into an uneasy, dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gertrude awoke suddenly and stared at the alarm clock that ticked slowly beside her on the nightstand next to the bed.
It was five minutes past six.
The young college professor jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom for a quick shower.
She threw on a fresh set of clothes, rearranged her hair a bit, glanced in the mirror to make sure she looked alright, then hopped in her car.
Although she had big black bags under her eyes, and her upper lip had been twitching nervously, Gertrude figured she looked presentable.
She didn't want to waste any time putting make up on her face.
Gertrude had a duty to perform.
It had just hit her the moment she woke up.
She really wasn't quite sure what was motivating her actions.
All she knew was that she had a burning desire to carry out the half-formed plan that had entered her troubled mind.
She zoomed through the streets that were still bathed in early-morning darkness.
Soon it would be light and another day of instruction would have begun at Southeastern University.
Gertrude had to arrive at the English building before any of the students got there.
She had to arrive before even any of the professors entered the building.
She felt the intense yearning to sneak into the lecture hall where her nine o'clock class met and rummage through the wastepaper basket.
She had to find the spiked iron dildo that Professor Naugles had discarded with such disgust.
She needed to find the horrible torture device.
She wanted it for her very own.
It was hers; Harrison Young had left it on her chair. He had talked about it in one of the morbid compositions his filthy little mind had lovingly created for his professor.
The horrible instrument of torture belonged to Gertrude Greengates, and the woman was going to claim her property if she had to break into the English building to do it!
Gertrude's car swung into the driveway, and the woman ran to the front door of the ten story building.
She was out of breath, her hair was a mess, and her eyes were blazing like a thing possessed.
But none of these things mattered to Gertrude in the least.
Something had snapped in her usually rational mind and she had been reduced to a desperate creature hungering for ... what?
Gertrude herself didn't know.
Her body was trembling, the blood seemed to pump through her veins more powerfully than ever before.
She felt a strange tingling sensation attacking her every limb.
And, oddly enough, it seemed to have its focal point in her ... vagina?
Gertrude couldn't understand what was happening to her.
She thought her behavior rather weird, also, but was unable to control herself.
She was acting under the influence of a force she couldn't comprehend.
The trembling professor tried the main door to the English building and gasped in uncontrollable delight.
It was unlocked!
She suddenly realized that the custodians must be in the building somewhere cleaning up. Panic struck her heart.
What if they had already collected the garbage from the wastepaper basket in the lecture hall!!
She crept through the deserted, unlit hallway stealthily.
Her quivering hand turned the knob to the lecture hall and she ran crept down the steps in pitch darkness towards the blackboard.
Her breathing was labored, her body a trembling mass of tensed muscle and bone.
She stubbed her toe against the side of the desk and cursed aloud.
Rubbing the injured big toe, Gertrude got on her hands and knees under the desk and her quivering fingers alighted on the rim of the wastepaper basket.
She plunged her hands inside with desperation.
The tips of her shuddering fingers touched crumpled pieces of paper.
Relief spread throughout her entire body.
Good!
The garbage hadn't been collected yet! Gertrude dug into the masses of wadded up paper until her hand brushed against something cold and hard and sharp.
Her heart skipped a beat.
It was the spiked iron dildo!
She had found it!
Gertrude lunged for the thick, heavy implement of torture and took it in her hands.
She removed the item from the confines of the wastepaper basket.
She sat under the desk, her breathing coming in short gasps, her limbs all a-quiver.
And her pussy tingling in unexpected delight.
In the pitch black, Gertrude ran her fingers up and down the length of the mighty iron rod.
Its surface was crude and rough.
The spikes were sharp and dangerous.
Gertrude thought of Becky and Mistress Xaviera and held the mushroom-shaped tip of the iron tool to her fervid cheek.
A low moan escaped her mouth.
Suddenly, the woman realized the custodians might be arriving in the lecture hall to clean up at any second.
She glanced at the hands of her watch, which glowed in the dark.
It was ten minutes after seven.
In fifty minutes, the professors would start invading the building to prepare for their classes that day.
Gertrude pulled a few spare sheets of paper out of the wastepaper basket and wrapped her morbid prize up tightly.
Wave after wave of shuddering heat wracked her body.
Her fingers shook uncontrollably.
But Gertrude got out from underneath the desk and stole up the steps of the lecture hall.
She furtively peered down the hall.
The custodians were nowhere in sight.
Charlene padded down the hallway as quietly and quickly as she could, and pressed the UP button of the elevator.
The door slid open immediately, and the hyped-up college professor quickly entered.
She pressed the button for the eighth floor and fondled the heavy iron sex device in her hand as they traveled up to the floor where her office was located.
The eighth floor was deserted, also.
Gertrude crept to the door of her office and put her key in the lock.
It swung open before she had time to turn the key.
Her office had been unlocked all night long!
How had that happened?
Gertrude shut the door quietly behind herself and locked it firmly.
She turned on the desk lamp.
And screamed in shock.
There, on the center of her otherwise empty desk, was an essay. In typewritten figures, the cover page read: SPECIAL CREDIT COMPOSITION, English Comp, Sept. 22, 1986. Ms. Greengates. Harrison Young.
How had that paper gotten into her office?
Had the deranged, unbalanced student broken the lock to her door?
Gertrude only took a second to ask herself how the paper had gotten there.
Still clutching the spiked rod in her sweat-drenched palm, she quickly turned the page and read with morbid fascination:
Kathy was a good little girl.
But she was also a bored little girl.
She would lie in her bed at night and dream of being kidnapped by a band of travelling gypsies that would force her to sell her young, firm body to strangers for a few silver coins every night. She dreamed of the grimy, fuck-starved men who would ravage her tiny pink hole with their big, hard cocks.
She longed to hear these men pant and groan as they pounded their meaty fucktools deep up her hole. She wanted them to turn her around and fuck her up the ass. She yearned for them to shoot their loads deep down her throat, to beat her, punch her, spank her.
And all at very affordable rates.
Yes, Kathy may have been a good little girl, but she had the desires and lustings of a well-fucked Times Square whore!
Kathy longed for her fantasies to become realities.
And one day, her dream came true.
The timid, bright little girl was sitting at a bus stop one day waiting for the local to take her back to her mundane, boring little home when a flashy car pulled up to the sidewalk.
A man stuck his head out of the window.
Kathy s eyes lit up.
The man was gorgeous! So virile and big and strong! Just like the male gypsies in the tribe that she had always dreamed would take her away and force her to live a life of decadence and sin!
"Hey, kid, wanna ride?" the man asked.
His voice was low and sexy.
Kathy's pussy juices began to flow.
In seconds she was with the man in his car.
"W-what are you doing?" Kathy asked, as the man suddenly pulled out a blindfold and covered her pretty face with it.
"I'm taking you away," he growled.
"To be my SEX SLAVE!" he continued, triumphantly.
Kathy was excited and aroused. She almost jumped for joy as the blindfold was placed over her eyes.
But she was also very scared.
What if the man didn't bring her back to her boring, but very safe, home?
What if he kept her a prisoner in his dungeon of torturous delights forever and ever?
The girl trembled. But she still did not know if it was with joy or fear.
They rode along for quite some time, with the virile, sexy man's hand planted firmly on Kathy's quivering quim.
The girl had never been touched like that before. And she had to admit that she liked it.
A lot.
Hell, she fucking LOVED it!
When the car stopped and the door opened, the man's attitude towards the little girl changed drastically.
He pulled her brutally by her long blonde hair and dragged her across the seat and out of the car.
Kathy screamed and yelled and begged for the man to stop.
He didn't.
Kathy fell with a thud to the gravel on the ground outside the car.
She squealed in pain.
The man threw back his handsome head and laughed.
"That's just for starters!" he said. "Just wait until you see what I have in store for you in my little chamber of horrors!!"
Kathy didn't like the sound of that one bit. She began to realize that perhaps her daydreams were a bit less painful than the realities she might soon be force to endure.
Tears spilled from her eyes and she desperately wished she had taken the bus and gone directly home.
Who knew what this sex-crazed maniac might do to her!
The man grabbed her savagely by the arm and dragged her screaming, struggling body along the gravel.
Kathy could feel her skin being torn and razed by the tiny, sharp pebbles. She tried to stand up, but the man was dragging her along with such speed and strength that it practically impossible to get on her own two feet.
That was probably what the cruel, sadistic creature who had just abducted her had been after.
The man picked her battered body up suddenly, and led her indoors. He then carried her down two flights of stairs.
Kathy kicked and punched at his massive chest and back, but her attempts to break free were useless. The man had her in his complete control, and he was going to make the dainty little girl his sex slave whether she wanted to be or not.
"Let me go! Let me GGGOOOOOH!" Kathy screamed.
But the hateful man only chuckled at the girl's timid protests.
When he had finished descending the two flights of stairs, Kathy was thrown off his shoulders and landed with a thump on a cold, hard floor.
"Let's see how that young body of yours is, cunt," the man grunted. "I bet you got some great tits under that pretty sweater of yours!"
Still blindfolded, Kathy was too afraid to run away from the man. Besides, seconds later she found that running would have been impossible, for the man had started groping her firm, supple flesh with his big, meaty hands.
"Oooh, yeah!" he groaned. "That feels nice. Real nice. It's a shame that you're such a filthy little slut. Otherwise I could fuck you nice and long and slow with my big, thick cock. But you're a little sleazy tramp who doesn't deserve my throbbing slab of fuckmeat...."
"W-well, what are you going to do to me then?" Kathy asked tearfully.
"Shut up, slut!!" the man bellowed, suddenly striking the girl with all his might on her pretty little face.
Kathy wailed in pain and fell to the floor.
"You will speak only when you are told to. And you shall address me as 'sir' from now on. Is that completely understood?" the man growled.
"Y-yes, sir," Kathy gasped, struggling to get up from the floor.
The man pulled her up so savagely that Kathy feared her slender, young arm would be wrenched from its socket.
He grabbed her sweater and pulled it off with one mighty thrust.
Kathy wailed as her boobs bounced out and almost hit her in the face. She hadn't worn a bra that day, and deeply regretted that decision.
The man's thick, hot fingers grabbed here nipples and squeezed them without mercy.
Kathy wriggled and cried and tried to break free from the man's tenacious grasp.
He then reached down and thrust her jeans and panties from her shivering, smooth hips. He removed her shoes and threw them in a corner. Kathy's jeans and panties were cast from her body with sex-crazed haste.
She stood before her master, blindfolded and totally naked, preparing for whatever tortures he deemed necessary to inflict on her tender, supple flesh.
He then tore off her blindfold.
Kathy blinked her eyes and gasped in disbelief.
Standing in front of her was the most horrible device she had ever laid eyes on in her life.
A huge, wooden box lined at the edges with a row of thick, sharp spikes met her eyes.
On the top of the box was a pulley that had a thick strand of rope attached to it.
On the side of the box was a huge, horizontal metal clamp. A heavy duty lock bound the two sides of the clamp together.
It looked as if it was just the right size to hold Kathy's lower leg comfortably. She had a sneaking suspicion that that was what the man was planning to lock up within its close confines.
"Yes, my little slut, the outside of this box is going to be your prison for the next few days. Don't worry, the spike won't hurt your delicate skin TOO much!"
Kathy stared at the swarthy man who had picked her up in his car.
His eyes were blazing with fuck-hungry lust.
"But before I hoist you onto the box, you're going to have to put this on. It's a special chastity belt I made just for sleazy whores like you."
Kathy stared at the device the man had pulled out of a closet close to where they stood.
Her parched lips trembled. Her knees were weak.
A thick metal bikini-type item would be strapped around her pelvic area. At the bottom of the item was a round, empty tube. Attached to the tube was a device to hold something in place. Kathy had no idea what would be shoved up that tube, and therefore shoved up her ... private parts ... but she had a sneaking suspicion it certainly wasn't going to be fun!
The man clamped the chastity belt around his sex slave.
Kathy shivered as the cold, metal surrounded her moist, warm pussy. Cold air blew up the tube, making her pubic hairs tingle.
After the horrible man had buckled her in so tightly that she could barely breathe, he told her to bend her head.
Kathy was helpless to disobey the man's commands.
At the top of the belt was a large ring attached to a few feet of chain. Another ring was at the end of the chain, which was attached to a sturdy stand of heavy wire.
Kathy's sex master put the wire around Kathy's neck as the girl stood naked before him, sobbing and shivering uncontrollably.
"Now you may raise your head," her master instructed.
Kathy found that the thick length of chain stretched from the chastity belt to the wire around her neck. It crossed between her ample breasts and down her firm, flat torso.
The young girl struggled to break free from her restraints, but her attempts were made in vain.
She was well and truly captured by this big, dark man who wanted to take complete advantage of her pristine pleasures!
"And now, the finishing touch," the man exclaimed, his eyes smoldering with anticipation.
"I'm sure you've been wondering exactly what is going to be placed up that tube on your chastity belt. Well, I'll let you know. This!!"
Kathy watched in disbelief as the man went to the closet and pulled out a thick, rubber dildo. It must have been about fifteen inches long, and as wide around as a gourd!!
"NO! NO!" the girl screamed. "You'll never be able to fit that huge thing in me without tearing my poor pussy to shreads!!"
The man threw back his head and guffawed with cruel laughter.
"But surely you realize, my little filthy slut, that that is exactly what you're here for!!" he said.
Kathy burst into tears of anguish and terror.
She knew she would never leave the man's chamber of horrors alive.
He approached her trembling body with the gargantuan dildo and, thrusting her legs apart, he reached under the chastity belt and plunged half of the thick, rubber dong deep up Kathy's quivering cunt.
The little girl screeched as she felt the massive girth of the thing invading her pussy, sending spasms of anguish through her loins and making her writhe uncomfortably before the horrible torturer who was only too prepared to teach the girl a lesson she would never forget!
"Now let's gag that mouth of yours and we'll be all set for your first few hours on the big white box!" the man said.
He rubbed his big hands together gleefully as he went to the closet once again. A simple white handkerchief was produced, and he bound the girl's mouth tightly.
Kathy's eyes grew large with terror as the man them picked her up and carried her exhausted body towards the big box with the spikes lining the edges.
He threw her down on the floor, unlocked the clamp, and picked her up again. He stuck the bottom part of her right leg into the clamp and locked it again.
Kathy wailed in anguish as best she could with the gag around her mouth. The metal bit into her skin. The spikes on the edge of the box dug into her side, already threatening to break her skin and send her blood coursing down the side of the freshly painted surface.
The man held Kathy in position on the side of the box with one hand, then reached up to the pulley with his free hand and unravelled the rope. He wound it twice around Kathy's right arm, then brutally pulled the girls' left leg behind her left arm and up over her head.
Kathy screamed and wailed and moaned in, anguish.
The man only laughed in delight.
He tied her left leg into place behind Kathy's head. The young girl could feel her tendons stretching and protesting at the horrible position into which they had been forced.
He finally secured the rope around Kathy's left wrist so that it was placed behind her left leg.
The girl was grateful she had taken gymnastics in school; otherwise, her limbs might have snapped off then and there!
The spikes on the box continued to dig into the right side of Kathy's body. The flesh was sore and ready to spurt forth pint after pint of blood at any moment.
The man finally pulled the half of the rubber dildo that had not been able to fit up Kathy's tight twat over to the top of the clamp and rested it there.
Kathy winced in anguish. The weight of her own body resting on the clamp was making the dildo shove farther and farther up her already-ravaged pussy!
She tried to lift her weight off the clamp, but found that if she did, the spikes dug into her side more brutally.
The man laughed at Kathy's attempts to alleviate the pain that was coursing through her young body.
"At the end of three hours," he said. "The weight of your own body will shove the entire fifteen inches of that huge rubber cock up your cunt. Don't bother trying to struggle, lt'sll only quicken the process."
Kathy's eyes swelled with tears and she gazed at the man imploringly.
WHY? she seemed to be asking.
"Why?" the man asked. "Because you're a dirty little whore, and you deserve to be punished in this way! Your pussy will soon be so large after this treatment that nobody in his right mid would want to fuck you again! You'll be so loose it'll make them sick. Just like you make ME sick!"
The swarthy, horrible man suddenly spit a load of yellowish phlegm at the girl. It landed on her right cheek.
Kathy moaned as the hot spittle struck her face.
The man glared at her, hate burning in his eyes.
"You little cunt!" he spat out.
He turned and left the room, leaving Kathy to suffer long and hard.
In private.
CHAPTER SIX
Gertrude finished the composition that had mysterious appeared on her desk.
The sexy college professor removed her pince-nez and stared for a second at the offensive document.
It was true that the trials of Kathy and her master were quite disgusting.
But it was also true that Gertrude Greengates had noticed that her loins had gotten mighty hot just reading the paper!
Gertrude felt shocked and ashamed at the fact that her pussy juices even started flowing when the tall, hung stranger had begun tying the little girl up to his big, white box.
She had even placed the huge iron dildo down on the desk and moved her slender, firm fingers to the creamy mound between her thighs and squeezed hard.
She had groaned in delight.
And turned the pages as quickly as she could.
Now that she had finished reading the essay, she contemplated what to do next.
The lamp bathed the office in a dim, eerie glow.
The typewritten pages stared here in the face.
So did the heavy iron rod covered with spikes.
Gertrude picked the torture item up.
She felt its rough, cold surface with trembling fingers.
What had compelled her to sneak into the lecture hall and retrieve the item from the wastepaper basket where Professor Roger Naugles had thrown it?
The svelte, young woman didn't know.
But she had a strange tingling sensation coursing through her entire body.
It had become even stronger when she had been reading the paper.
Now, droplets of sweat formed on her brow as she held the iron dildo in her hand.
She imagined what the thing would feel like ravaging the tender tissues of her pussy. Gertrude writhed in pain at the thought. It would not be a pleasant experience. Or would it?
In her mind's eye, Gertrude saw herself being held captive by a huge hunk of manhood.
Six foot five tall and bursting with hard, veined muscles.
His cock was twelve thick inches long and snugly held in place by a thin leather g-string.
His face was covered by a leather mask.
Her master had shackled her hands together with heavy metal handcuffs and attached them to an iron belt that had been tightly fastened around her trim waist.
A metal choker hung around her neck; a leather skull cap had been placed on her head, and her eyes were covered with round metal goggles that were attached by a thick iron rung around her chin. The most horrible thing of all, however, were the huge rings that her firm, ample breasts had been pierced by.
The rings were attached to the shackles around her hands, and Gertrude screamed in pain every time she tried to struggle free.
Her struggles only succeeded in tugging on her breasts, and sending spasms of anguish racing through her delicate flesh.
Gertrude's master was a horrible, mean man who beat her night and day without mercy.
But Gertrude had to admit, she really did love every bit of the pain her master inflicted on her tender, young body.
She never knew she could find such pleasure in such pain!
Gertrude tried to stop the bizarre, sluttish thoughts that were coursing through her over-excited brain. But she couldn't.
The images she created were turning her on too much.
Already, she could feel her pussy getting nice and warm once again.
She slowly pulled down the zipper to the jeans she had thrown on earlier that morning.
She fondled the thick forest of pubic hair that lurked under the taut material of her panties.
She groaned in delight, imagining her master's thick, hard cock inches away from her fuck-hungry mouth.
"Beat me! Beat me!" she imagined herself screaming.
The master would take out his big, heavy whip and lash down upon her back brutally.
Gertrude's skin would slice like paper under the thick leather whip.
Huge gashes would appear in her skin, and blood would pour out and drip down her creamy back.
She would beg her master for more abuse, more punishment.
Gertrude would undergo any torture, just to get a taste of that huge, beefy cock that hung like a giant hose between her master's muscular thighs.
Her tits would be drooping from the huge rings that had been pierced through her tiny pink nipples, her wrists would ache from the shackles that bound them tightly, her back would be a mass of coagulating blood from the savage lashes of the leather whip.
But Gertrude would be happy.
"FUCK ME!! FUCK ME!! FUCK ME!!" she would scream even while she squirmed in agony.
And her master would pick up a big black dildo similar to the one that Gertrude in reality had just picked up in her hand.
"I'll fuck you," her master growled. "But not with my cock. I' m going to fuck you with THIS!"
And Gertrude would gasp when she felt the huge iron dildo invading her tiny, tight pussy.
In her fantasy, she would not be able to see the item her master was raping her with, of course, because her eyes had been covered.
But she would be able to feel the thick metal spikes slicing her tender pussy walls, tearing her twat to shreads and sending rivers of blood spurting from her private hole and trickling down between her battered thighs.
It would hurt so much, but Gertrude would scream in ecstasy as she felt herself being disembowled by the huge, spiked iron rod.
In real life, Gertrude was not blindfolded and could look quite freely at the dildo.
She studied it as the morbid scenes of torturous, carnal delights danced through her head.
She reached down between her legs and thrust down her frilly pink panties.
She gently shoved a hot, firm finger between her outer pussy lips.
She sighed in delight and spread her long legs as far as they could go.
Gertrude brought the mushroom-shaped head of the heavy iron dildo closer and closer to her quivering pussy lips.
She removed her finger, and replaced it with the tip of the dildo.
She groaned.
It was so cold!
And so big!
But the tip felt mighty good lodged between the lips of her pussy!
Gertrude grabbed hold of the thick iron tool and began to slowly thrust it up her pussy.
She grunted as her pussy walls contracted to let the massive girth of the gargantuan torture device glide into her hot, moist hole.
The first row of spikes were centimeters away from plunging into her twat and slicing her tender pussy walls to shreads.
Gertrude sighed as she felt the icy cold head of the iron rod scraping up against her tight hole.
The woman shuddered uncontrollably as she imagined her brawny, muscular sex master attacking her with the dildo, impaling her on the thick, sharp spikes again and again.
In real life, the spikes moved closer and closer to the entrance to Gertrude's tunnel of love.
Gertrude arched her back in the chair and moaned in ecstasy.
She had to be careful so as not to make much noise; soon the other professors would be arriving and she didn't want to make a scene.
There Gertrude Greengates was in her office at seven in the morning, shoving a huge, iron dildo covered with spikes up her twat while her entire body shuddered in orgasmic delight.
It might be very difficult to explain!
And, suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Gertrude almost screamed in shock.
"W-who's there?" she asked.
"It's me, Professor Naugles," replied a voice outside the door.
Gertrude sprang to action.
She threw the dildo and composition into the middle drawer of her desk, silently pulled up her panties and jeans, rearranged her hair, and walked to the door.
She smiled sweetly at her handsome lover on the other side.
"What were you doing in here?" he asked, passing through the threshold.
"Oh, just correcting some papers," Gertrude replied.
"I see," Roger said. "Well, let's get going. Professor Becker might be here soon."
And without a word or warning, Roger shoved his tongue deeply into Gertrude's mouth.
He shoved it down her throat.
Gertrude moaned in delight, and envisioned herself in the arms of a cruel, muscular sex master who was going to rape her, then batter and bruise her tender flesh.
"Roger, fuck me good and hard!" the prim college professor moaned.
Roger thrust down Gertrude's jeans, then pulled his thick, hard cock out of his pants.
He reached over and pulled Gertrude's panties from her pelvic area.
Gertrude gasped as she suddenly found herself impaled on the end of Roger's mighty shaft.
The two professors fell to the sofa in one panting, sweating heap.
Roger's thick hand lewdly grabbed at Gertrude's tits as his hips thrust forward brutally.
Gertrude grunted in fuck-starved pleasure as her pussy walls were attacked by Roger's hot cock.
She imagined that his cock was the big, spiked dildo.
Gertrude writhed in delight.
Roger's throbbing member had never thrilled her this much before in her life!
But a nagging thought floated in the back of her mind.
Was it really Roger's brutal fuck-action that was making her so turned on?
Or was it the dark thoughts of pain and torture that were making her squeal like a mad bitch in heat?
Gertrude threw her arms around Roger's back, pretending her was the horrid sex master who would soon be whipping, kicking and spitting on her.
"Oh, YYYEEEAAHHHH!!!" the woman shrieked in cock-hungry lust. "Pound that big cock up my cunt! Yeah! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!!!"
Roger panted as he thrust into Gertrude's tight, dripping hole with s much bestial fury as he could muster.
He had never seen Gertrude fuck back like this before!
Her pussy lips were alive and kicking, her fingernails dug into his back, threatening to claw through his shirt and scratch the hell out of his skin!
What had gotten into the woman?
She was acting like a fuck-starved nymphette who had not tasted hot fuckmeat in weeks!
"FUCK ME!! FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF ME, YOU BRAWNY BASTARD!! OOOHHHH!! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!!" Gertrude wailed. And such language!
Professor Greengates had never spoken so crudely before!
Roger suddenly remember the iron dildo she had found on her chair the day before and wondered if the shock of finding such a vulgar torture item in her lecture hall had somehow deranged her.
Whatever the catalyst had been, Roger didn't really care.
He only wanted Gertrude for her body.
And at that moment, he had never been so happy to be her fuck partner!
She was goddamn fantastic!
"Yeah, baby! Grip my hot cock with that tight twat! That feels great! YYEEAAHH!!" Roger grunted.
His massive cock slid up her moist shaft of love. He pulled out. Shoved in.
All to the soundtrack of Gertrude's screams of delight.
Images of shackled breasts, naked, terrified little girls and fuck-hungry leather-clad lesbians danced in Gertrude's head as Roger fucked the living shit out of her ravaged pussy.
"Hell, baby, I'm gonna come!" Roger finally announced.
His balls swelled, his shaft throbbed and ached, and a thick stream of hot, creamy come spurt from his blood-engorged head and emptied deep into Gertrude's pussy.
The girl clawed into her lover's back with her long, sharp nails.
Roger grunted in pain, but continued pumping load after load of creamy jism up Gertrude's quivering, moist hole.
He collapsed on top of the college professor, her nails still digging into his back with animal desperation.
"Wow!" Gertrude breathed.
"You said it, baby!" Roger replied, still panting. "You were fucking fantastic!"
Gertrude looked up at her handsome lover and thought of the spiked iron rod hidden in her middle desk drawer.
Should she ask Roger to rape her pussy with it?
Gertrude decided against it.
Professor Roger Naugles might fuck like a seasoned Times Square rent boy, but he was still a very prudish person.
He would be horrified and shocked to hear the thoughts that had been floating through his lover's mind while he pumped her with his big, hard dick.
Roger glanced at his watch.
"Whoops!" he exclaimed, suddenly pulling his quickly-softening member out of Gertrude's warm cunt. "We better get a move on!"
Roger pulled on his underwear and socks and opened the door.
"See you at lunch time!" he said, winking at the sexy young woman who was still lying on the office sofa, her panties and jeans wrapped around her ankles.
Gertrude nodded and smiled. Roger closed the door and swaggered down the hall.
Gertrude pulled up her panties and jeans and walked over to the desk.
She opened the drawer, stared at the four essays Harrison Young had written and took out the dildo.
She rolled it between her hands for a few seconds, loving it heavy weight, loving the metal spikes that dug into her flesh.
She placed it carefully back in the drawer and locked it.
Gertrude glanced at her watch.
It was almost time for her nine o'clock class.
She couldn't wait to see if Harrison Young had turned in a fifth essay filled with torture and lust!
CHAPTER SEVEN
As her Beginning Composition class filed noisily out of the lecture hall, Gertrude sat demurely behind her desk, smiling pleasantly at the students who waved goodbye to her.
She eyed the pile of typewritten essays that had just been turned in with a mixture of anxiety and expectation.
When the last student had left, Gertrude sprang to life.
Gone was the prime, proper college professor. Gone was the demure pose, the polite smile.
Gertrude Greengates had been reduced to a sex-crazed, fuck-hungry slut lusting for a cruel, brutal master who would attack her bound, naked body with whatever horrible torture devices he had handy.
Ropes!
Chains!
Spikes!
Gertrude wanted to read about them all!
And lately she wanted to do more than read about them. She wanted to have them!
She wanted to feel her flesh being tightly bound with coarse, thick rope. She wanted to feel nipple clamps on here tiny pink paps. She wanted to be raped and battered, attacked and abused!
Gertrude Greengates had been transformed from a prim, pretty college professor into a desperate, cock-yearning slut!
And she knew that she had Harrison Young and his obscene essays to thank!
Gertrude tore through the pile of over one hundred essays.
Some went fluttering to the floor. The woman didn't care. She thrust essays right and left all over the desk. She didn't care if she destroyed half of them with her trembling, sharp fingernails.
She clawed at the papers, desperately searching for the essay that would make her day.
The essay that she would read upstairs in her office while she plunged the thick iron dildo deep into her moist, hot pussy!
Harrison Young's essay!
Gertrude froze when she reached the bottom of the pile.
Had she missed Harrison Young's latest essay?
Sweat formed on her brow as the dug through the disheveled pile of typewritten pages once again.
She flung her students' work all over the floor. The paper she hungered for was nowhere in sight.
Harrison Young had not turned in another essay!
Perhaps he had been unable to make the class that day and that was why he had snuck into her office and placed the composition for extra credit on her desk.
Gertrude tried to wrack her brains to see if she could remember any familiar face in the lecture hall that had been absent that morning.
It was impossible.
The lecture hall was too large and there were too many students to keep track of.
Gertrude realized she would be late for her ten o'clock Writing and Reason class again if she didn't gather the essays quickly.
Bundling them up in an untidy pile, the young college professor ran up the steps and out of the lecture hall.
*****
During her lunch break, Gertrude stole into her office with the large pile of essays.
She was about to fling them on the desk next to the other piles of as yet uncorrected compositions, but instead froze in horror.
The pile of papers fluttered to the floor.
In the center of her desk was a little white box.
Gertrude knew instinctively who it was from.
Harrison Young!
She grabbed the box and tore it open.
Gertrude stared with fascinated repulsion at the item that had been placed in the box with loving care.
She picked it up with two trembling fingers and examined it.
She had no idea what the strange thing was for.
Two thin parallel bars were attached at either end to round rings. Attached to the rings were thin chains. These, also, were attached to another set of rings.
The two metal rods could be pulled apart about a half an inch.
Gertrude supposed something was supposed to be stuck between the two rods. , But what?
A nipple?
No, that would never fit; it would slip right through. A toe?
No, the toe would be too big.
Would it fit anywhere on her pussy lips?
Possibly.
But then what would those two rings at the end of the chain be attached to? Her clit?
Gertrude peered into the box again.
A plain white card with writing had been placed at the bottom.
She took out the card, still clutching the strange metal item in her sweaty palm.
It read:
"THIS IS TO KEEP SLUTTY BITCHES LIKE YOU QUIET. LOVE AND HATE, YOUR MASTER, HARRISON YOUNG."
Gertrude let out a little scream.
She sank to her chair, her entire body wracked with nervous shivering.
So those two parallel bars were supposed to hold her tongue! And the rings on the end of the chains were supposed to go in her nose!
Gertrude picked up the card and read it again.
YOUR MASTER, HARRISON YOUNG.
Gertrude didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
This unknown creature had her under his command! He had led her cleverly down the path to adoration without her knowledge.
This nonexistent student frightened Gertrude so much. His essays were so horrible, so graphic, so repulsive.
Yet she had been drawn to them.
And in dreaming about them, thinking about them constantly, she had also been drawn to the mysterious, deranged Harrison Young.
How she longed to meet him!
How she longed to see his strong, manly body, to feel his hard, throbbing cock and to be denied the chance to have that massive member shoving deep in her tight, moist pussy!
How Gertrude longed for her sex master to appear resplendent in leather. How she longed for him to bind her limbs, whip her tender flesh and shove the thick, spiked dildo up her cunt!
If only....
There was a rap at the door and Gertrude screamed.
"No need for alarm, Professor Greengates. It's only me, Professor Becker," came a voice from the other side of the door.
Professor Becker!
He was the head of the English Department!
Gertrude threw the present her deranged, violent student had given her back into its box and flung it in the middle drawer of her desk next to the iron dildo.
Gertrude stepped across the pile of essays she had thrown in horror on the floor when she had noticed the box on her desk.
It didn't help make her office look very professional, but she didn't have time to pick them up.
Hopefully, she could get rid of the department head without having to let him in the office to view the mess.
"C-coming, Professor!" Gertrude called.
What could the man want?
Suddenly, Gertrude's blood froze. What if there had been complaints about the strange noises that had been coming from her office when she and Professor Naugles got together for one of their steamy fuck sessions!
Or what if one of the custodians had seen her lurking around the deserted lecture hall that morning!
Gertrude opened the door timidly and peered out. Professor Becker was glaring at her. Gertrude's heart sank.
She was in trouble about something, that was for sure!
What if these strange sexual practices she had been engaging in lately got her kicked off of the academic staff!
What would she do then?
"May I come in, please?" Professor Becker demanded.
Gertrude gulped and thought of the pile of essays she had thrown on the floor.
She could not refuse the head of the department entrance into her office.
"Y-yes, Professor Becker. Please do come in. And make yourself at home," Gertrude said.
"I'm afraid I am not here for a social visit," the brawny man said, pushing past her and slamming the door.
Gertrude was almost thrown across the room by the muscular man's brutal action.
"And lock that door," he demanded. "I don't want anyone else to hear what I have to discuss with you."
"Y-yes, sir, Professor Becker," Gertrude said, turning the lock on her door and feeling her knees getting weak.
Professor Becker sat down on the sofa Gertrude and Roger Naugles had fucked on earlier that day.
He peered around the office with an air of authority.
Professor Becker glanced down at the pile of papers on the floor.
"What the hell is the meaning of this mess, Gertrude?" the head of the English Department demanded to know.
"Well, I ... I...." Gertrude gulped, perching her prim form on the edge of her desk chair.
She thought of the two sex devices that lurked in the middle drawer of her desk. She was terrified that Professor Becker might ask her to open the desk for some reason.
"No reply, as per usual."
The man sighed.
He did not seem very pleased.
Gertrude shrank under his harsh glare.
"I'll tell you, Gertrude, I've been hearing quite a few complaints about you lately. You really have not been attentive to your duties as a member of the faculty of this university with the professionalism that we pride ourselves on. Look at that huge pile of uncorrected essays on your desk! Look at the pile scattered all over the floor!"
The man stuck his foot out and kicked a few of the essays into the air.
"A few of your Beginning Composition students have complained that they have not received a graded copy of the first essay of the semester that they turned in weeks ago. Is this true, Gertrude?" the man asked sternly.
"Well, uh ... yes, Professor Becker. B-but, I can easily explain that," Gertrude stuttered. "You see, I have about one hundred and fifty students in that class and...."
"SILENCE!" bellowed Professor Becker.
Gertrude jumped and gasped at the ferocity of the professor's shouted command.
Professor Becker cleared his throat, continued to glare at Gertrude and spoke up once again.
"And I have also been hearing complaints from other members of the English Department that they hear strange noises coming from your office early in the morning and during your lunch break."
Blood swarmed to Gertrude's delicate facial features, and she wriggled with discomfort on the edge of her chair.
Professor Becker spoke up once again, his eyes still boring into Gertrudes' with hate and fury.
"It is true, is it not, that you have been engaging in sexual activities with a member of the department. Correct?"
Professor Becker waited for an answer. Gertrude sat in her chair in uncomfortable silence.
"And, in fact, this person is a member of our department who has been joined in holy matrimony with another woman. It is true, is it not, that you have been fucking Roger Naugles? That you have been his little slutty mistress while his wife sits at home and contemplates her broken marriage and suicide!"
Gertrude's entire body was draped in pure terror and humiliation.
"N-no...." she protested weakly.
Perhaps she and Roger were having an affair behind his wife's back, but the woman knew nothing about it! She certainly couldn't envision Barbara Naugles contemplating suicide!
Professor Becker was making a big deal out of a rather innocent bit of sex!
"Oh? So you deny the fact that you are fucking Roger Naugles in the hallowed halls of our reputable institution? Shall I add "lying" to the already lengthy list of sins you commit daily, you slutty little bitch?"
"B-but, Professor Becker, we were just-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, CUNT!" Professor Becker hollered, his face turning red with anger and the veins bulging from his thick neck.
The tall, swarthy man sprang from the sofa and made his way over to the terrified young woman.
He placed his thick, firm hands around her shoulders and squeezed them. Hard.
Gertrude winced in pain under the professor's tenacious grasp.
She shuddered in fear.
What was this man doing?
Would she ever be able to leave her office in one piece?
Gertrude debated as to whether she should scream for help or not, but decided against it.
The English Department was usually empty at this time of day. That's why she and Roger had been able to have wild humping sessions during their lunch breaks.
But apparently someone had overheard them one day, and had run and told Professor Becker.
"Do you know what happens to filthy whores who run around fucking married men, Gertrude?" Professor Becker asked, his voice low and menacing.
"N-no," the young woman gasped.
"They get punished," the man announced, digging his thick fingers more deeply into Gertrude's tender shoulders.
"P-please, Professor, let go of my shoulders! You're hurting me!" Gertrude moaned.
"That's the idea, you fucking little twat!" Professor Becker bellowed. "Now, open that middle drawer of your desk!"
Gertrude gasped.
How had Professor Becker known that she had hidden the sexual torture items in her desk?
And then it suddenly dawned on the perky young professor that she was not only locked up in the office with Professor Naugles; she was also a prisoner of his alter ego Harrison Young!
Professor Roger Naugles was the deranged, sadistic Harrison Young!
Gertrude didn't even have time to wonder how the professor had arranged to have a newly-composed essay on her desk in the lecture hall every morning.
The professor wanted her to open the drawer. And she knew he wouldn't take no for an answer! Gertrude opened the middle drawer of her desk and the little white box, spiked iron dildo and Harrison Young's pornographic compositions were displayed before the two professors' eyes.
Professor Becker grabbed the box and tore it open.
He threw his head back and laughed sardonically as he pulled out the bizarre tongue trap that he was preparing to stick on the pretty college professor.
"You won't be able to lie anymore with this thing on your tongue, you dirty little whore!" the man grinned. "First, though, I'm going to have to pierce your nose with these rings. Too bad I don't have any anesthetic. Oh, well. It'll hurt quite a lot, but who cares! And if you scream the least bit, I'll make sure your punishment is more brutal than any of the things you read about in my stories!"
Gertrude tried to struggle, but the brawny professor held her captive in the chair.
"M-my two o'clock class!" she gasped.
"Shut up, bitch!" Professor Becker demanded, smacking Gertrude across the face.
The young woman wailed in anguish and her head shot over to the left.
"I put a note on the board that said you'll be absent today. Which means you'll be my sex slave all afternoon long!" Professor Becker announced.
Gertrude wriggled as the man approached her nostrils with the two rings.
"And don't think Roger Naugles will interrupt us looking for his afternoon piece of ass. I told him you went home early," Professor Becker said.
Tears welled up in Gertrude's eyes as the Professor cruelly grabbed the cartilage of her nostrils and snapped the two halves of the ring on her left side of her nose.
Two sharp wires dug into the skin on either side of Gertrude's left nostril.
The professor pushed hard and hard as Gertrude wailed in anguish.
SNAP!
He had broken her skin and pierced her nostril while she struggled and groaned in the desk chair!
Tiny droplets of blood trickled onto Gertrude's sweater.
"Please! Please, professor! Don't pierce my other nostril! It hurts so bad! OWWWWWW!!!"
Gertrude screamed as the professor paid no attention to her whispered wishes and clamped down on her right nostril until that ring, also, hung from her nose.
"Silly bitch!" the man snorted. "Of course I have to dig into your nose with both rings! How else am I going to shut your slutty trap up??!!"
And with these words, he thrust Gertrude's lips apart, grabbed her tongue and savagely pulled it out of her mouth.
Gertrude gasped and gagged and almost got sick all over the professor.
He was pulling so savagely on her tongue!
The sadistic, cruel man then shoved her tongue between the two parallel metal bars.
Gertrude wriggled her tongue uncomfortably as the two poles bit down on the tip of her tongue.
She tried to speak, but only garbled noise emitted from her throat.
Professor Becker looked at Gertrude and wailed with laughter.
"That'll teach you to be a lying, slutty cunt!" he guffawed.
Gertrude stared at the deranged, fuck-hungry man who stood before her. She shivered in terror.
And the young college professor realized that her journey down the road to lustful torture and passionate torment was only beginning....
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gertrude sat helpless in the desk before the brawny, cruel man who would soon become her sex master.
Although the prim college professor had been infatuated and even stimulated by the lewd, vulgar stories of sexual violence and human bondage that Professor Becker had been composing for her reading pleasure over the past few weeks, Gertrude was not quite sure she would be able to handle physical pain being inflicted on her tender flesh in the name of love.
The woman had been thrilled by the sight and feel of the iron dildo that Professor Becker had placed on her chair in the lecture hall, yet she had been unable to shove the heavy tool with the sharp spikes up her moist cunt, even at the height of fuck-hungry lust.
Gertrude was sure that she would not be a very good sex slave because of this.
She knew that the tormented bitches in the lewd essays that the head of the English Department had composed scream and wailed in anguish and pain, but she always had the feeling that they secretly enjoyed every bit of torture that their masters and mistresses wracked their bodies with.
Gertrude would never be able to enjoy pain.
Or would she?
Professor Becker threw back his head and guffawed with cruel glee when he took a good look at his new sex slave.
"Now that you can't open that filthy, lying mouth of yours any more," he said. "I must make sure that you won't be able to escape. Not that you would really want to, anyway. I'm sure those stories of mine got your little cunt hot. I'm sure they got your pussy juices flowing."
The man took a thick strand of rope from his back pocket.
"Let's get that sweater off of you. I want to take a good look at those fine tits of yours, Gertrude," Professor Becker said.
The young woman shrank down into the confines of the desk chair in terror as Professor Becker suddenly attacked her breasts with his grimy, thick fingers.
She tried to yell, but the two metal bars that held her tongue captive rendered any intelligent remark incomperable.
"Ooh, yeah! These really are nice, supple tits!" the man grinned, staring lewdly at the luscious mounds that graced Gertrude's breasts.
"And I bet they look as good as they feel!" Professor Becker exclaimed, suddenly pulling the sweater off of Gertrude's body.
Gertrude attempted to gasp.
Her boobs suddenly bounced forward with a resounding smack against her skin; Gertrude rarely wore a bra.
Professor Becker's fuck-crazy hands grabbed her tiny erect nipples and squeezed them. Tightly.
Gertrude winced in pain.
The man was squashing and pinching her nipples so brutally that she half-feared that they might fall off at any moment!
She struggled to jump up from the chair and out of the man's grasp.
Professor Becker slapped her savagely across the face.
Gertrude gave a tiny yelp and felt warm blood trickling out of her left, pierced nostril.
"You slutty whore!" the man bellowed. "If you won't keep your silly ass still, I'm going to have to tie you in place!"
He grabbed Gertrude's left arm and brought it down firmly on the left arm of the desk chair.
Taking the rope he had pulled out of his pocket moments earlier, the muscular, cruel man bound Gertrude's arm so tightly to the chair that blood almost stopped running to her hand immediately.
Gertrude attempted to struggle, but received yet another brutal smack across the face.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Professor Becker began to take of his belt.
Gertrude stared in horror.
Was the man about to expose himself?
Would he rape her right in the middle of her office?
But Professor Becker kept his trousers on. For the moment.
The man wanted to bind Gertrude's right arm to the chair with his belt.
He wound the belt tightly around the young woman's arm and the arm of the chair.
Gertrude wriggled in anguish.
"And now, you filthy, cunt-sucking bitch, I have a special treat for you," Professor Becker said.
The man sat on the desk before the trembling college professor.
He took a sheaf of papers out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and thrust them at Gertrude's pain-wracked face triumphantly.
"The final composition by Harrison Young!" the man exclaimed. "I hope you won't feel to uncomfortable. This last essay if much more violent and bloody than the other ones. Which makes it the best, obviously. And I think you know the main protagonist rather well. Her name is Gertrude Greengates!"
Gertrude would have moaned in dismay had her mouth not been indisposed.
She sat before the head of the English Department, her arms bound to the chair, her breasts exposed and covered with goose bumps, blood trickling out of her nose, and the strange contraption on her face.
And now Professor Becker was going to read her a story! The man was deranged! Well and truly mad! Insane!
Tears began to flow from Gertrude's eyes as Professor Becker cleared his throat and began to read aloud:
Everybody thought that Gertrude Greengates was a pretty, proper college professor. She was well-liked by her colleagues and treated with respect by her adoring students.
But nobody would have liked Gertrude Greengates one bit if they knew what a filthy, disgusting whore the young woman really was deep down inside.
Gertrude Greengates was a putrid, cock-sucking SLUT!
This slimy bitch would spread her legs for any type of fuckmeat she saw walking down the street. Stinking, homeless bums. Drunken, fuck-hungry niggers. Dogs in heat.
Gertrude Greengates had had them all.
Their vile, repulsive cocks had been shoved deep down her smelly, shriveled pussy and spurt their loads of yellow, fetid jism down her vulgar shaft.
And Gertrude had enjoyed every second of these odious, depraved rape sessions.
She lived for them.
Her fuck-lusting pussy couldn't survive without being violated at least two or three times a day.
This filthy whore didn't care where she dropped her drawers.
She would fuck anywhere.
Public shithouses, parking lots, behind the meat counter at supermarkets: all had been places where Gertrude had stripped the clothes from her infested, rotting body to receive the thick slabs of fuckmeat her sordid little mind couldn't survive without.
Gertrude Greengates would take those throbbing shafts of cockflesh everywhere and anywhere.
In her pussy.
In her mouth.
Up the ass.
Yes, Gertrude was a sick, disgusting nympho who couldn't exist without her daily dose of pulsating prickmeat.
And she had to be taught a lesson.
Her scabby pussy had to be purified.
Cleansed.
Defecated.
And the best person to put Gertrude Greengates through her moral and spiritual cleansing was Mistress Death.
Mistress Death was known in the underworld of Gertrude Greengates s hometown as the most vicious, violent, dominatrix around.
She was cold blooded.
She was pitiless.
And she was also the most gorgeous woman Gertrude had even laid eyes on.
When the slutty, degenerate tramp first laid eyes on Mistress Death at one of the most sleazy sex clubs in Minnesota, Gertrude forgot all about her disgusting lusting for hot, thick cock.
Gertrude wanted tight, smelly pussy.
She wanted Mistress Death's pussy.
And Mistress Death was only to happy to introduce the vile college professor to the wonders of filthy lesbian sex.
Mistress Death had heard all about Gertrude; who hadn't? She was the most infamous slut in town!
Gertrude Greengates intrigued the dominatrix greatly.
The college professor had to be taught a lesson. She had to learn that spreading her legs to every thick dick that appeared before her eyes was not right.
Mistress Death took Gertrude home to her dungeon of horrors that evening.
And bloody visions of cruel, inhuman tortures danced gleefully in Mistress Death's gore-craving mind.
Gertrude would learn her lesson, or she would not be able to leave her dungeon alive!
"W-where are you taking me?" Gertrude asked in her pitiful, timid voice when Mistress Death led her down three flights of stairs.
The passageways were cold and clammy and covered with mildew.
"You'll find out soon enough, bitch!" Mistress Death snapped, suddenly whirling around and smacking Gertrude roughly across her face.
Gertrude yelped in pain and caressed her cheek.
Mistress Death's long, sharp fingernails had almost dug into her delicate skin!
Gertrude followed her leather-clad dominatrix further and further down the seemingly endless spiral of stairs.
Her cheek was throbbing painfully and she was becoming a bit apprehensive as to exactly what would occur once they reached their ultimate destination.
The whore in Gertrude desperately wanted to run the tip of her moist, cunt-hungry tongue along the length of Mistress Death's trembling pussy lips.
But Gertrude was also a sniveling, pitiful coward who would have shied from any potentially dangerous situation.
Unless the promise of lewd, vulgar sex was in the air.
And at this moment, Gertrude's well-honed pussy was twitching in delight at the thought of a cheap fling in the sack with the beautiful Mistress Death, even while her heart was quickening with fear as she descended another step.
Gertrude was such a horny little cunt that she would have gladly stared death in the face if she knew she would be slurping down some stinky, slimy fuck juice as her reward.
Mistress Death took a large key out of her pocket and opened a forbidding oak door decorated with thick metal plates.
"Get your slutty little ass in there, you whore!" Mistress Death suddenly screamed with such fury that Gertrude uttered a shocked shriek.
The tall, handsome woman thrust Gertrude's well-fucked body into her sex chambers.
Gertrude stumbled and fell to the cobblestoned floor, yelping in terror and almost spraining her wrist with the force of the shove.
Mistress Death slammed the door shut with a resounding thud.
Gertrude struggled to get up from the floor, but was kicked in her ample but much-abused tits by the woman's well-polished leather boots.
Gertrude gasped and clutched at her boobs.
"Why did you do that?" she asked the cruel, angular woman who was standing over her with an air of authority.
Mistress Death gazed down hautily at Gertrude's pitiful form.
"Because you are a filthy, slutty bitch who needs to be taught a lesson! After I'm through with you this evening, your slimy pussy will be so battered and rotten that you won't be able to even THINK of fucking another man in your life! I will keep you for my very own! My own little slutty sex slave!"
Mistress Death threw back her powdered, painted face and screeched with cruel laughter.
She suddenly stopped mid-way through and her eyes bored into Gertrude's.
Mistress Death growled in a gruff, serious tone: "You will be my sex slave, BUT ONLY IF YOU SURVIVE THIS EVENING IN ONE PIECE! And believe me, many nights after I have had these ... sexual training sessions...! have had to clean up fetid bits of mangled flesh. I have had to air the room to rid it of the repulsive stench of ravaged skin. I hope that this will not be necessary with you, Gertrude. My whorish little cunt-sucking bitch."
Gertrude trembled on the damp floor in fear. What horrible situation had her sluttish lust for fuck action gotten her into this time?
As Mistress Death's deep-set eyes bored into her own, Gertrude seriously wondered if she would ever leave the dominatrix's torture chamber alive.
She glanced around the dungeon.
Shackles and chains hung from the walls.
An assortment of thick leather whips were displayed in the far corner.
A stretching rack, an iron maiden and a series of brands were situated in various sections of the cold, damp chamber.
Gertrude stared at the torture devices in horror.
But, little slut that she was. the young college professor had to admit that the idea of such a bizarre evening alone in Mistress Death's chamber of terror was making her pussy hot and dripping.
She might have to put up with a bit of pain, but if her reward for surviving a night full of torture would give her the chance to run her moist, cunthungry tongue along the sugar walls of Mistress Death's hairy pussy, Gertrude thought that the agony would be worth it.
Little did she realize, however, exactly how brutal Mistress Death would be to her.
The gorgeous dominatrix knew she had the upper hand as far as the fuck-lusting wench was concerned. Gertrude would be willing to do anything to taste her hot fuck hole!
Mistress Death grinned with evil delight at the girl she had just thrown to the cold, stone floor.
"You fucking slut!" she screamed, suddenly reaching down and clawing the flimsy white blouse that revealed Gertrude's much-sucked tits.
With one savage pull, Mistress Death had torn the blouse from Gertrude's chest.
The buttons were ripped from the delicate material and scattered all over the dungeon floor.
Gertrude gasped as her boobs bounded out of the blouse and bounced lusciously infront of Mistress Death's smoldering eyes.
The dominatrix had to admit that Gertrude had a fine set of tits.
They were creamy, firm and supple.
Their tips were graced by tiny, erect nipples.
But they were also the tits of a sleazy slut who had been fucked by whatever man would take her.
Mistress Death refused to touch them until she had cleansed Gertrude Greengates and taught the bitch a lesson she desperately needed to learn.
"Those tits have been groped by so many fetid, filthy hands," Mistress Death announced. "That I will NOT lay a finger on them until you have been taught not to be a slimy little whore!"
Gertrude hung her head in shame.
Mistress Death's fingers wrapped around the zipper that held Gertrude's skin-tight jeans in place.
The dominatrix thrust it down and swiftly removed the revealing pants.
She stared at the luscious but much-fucked pussy that lay between Gertrude's soft, smooth thighs.
"Hmm! That's nice, too!" the cruel woman cooed. "But once again, your filthy pussy needs to be cleaned and I am the only one who can do it!"
Gertrude had squirmed in discomfort when the woman had pulled her jeans off. The floor of the dungeon was so cold, and she was lying on top of the icy cobblestones with not a stitch of clothing on.
She did not feel very comfortable or ready for sex at that moment.
But Mistress Death cared nothing at all about how the dirty slut felt.
Her purification session was about to begin!
Mistress Death ran to the corner that held the assortment of whips and selected the thickest.
It was so large and bulky that the dominatrix almost had trouble lifting it over her head.
Gertrude trembled on the cold stone floor as the beautiful lady clad in leather approached her prone form wielding the heavy bullwhip.
And suddenly she was screaming in pain as Mistress Death lashed out with the whip and struck her tender flesh with the thick, leather strip.
Gertrude attempted to scramble across the stone floor.
She had had no idea that the woman would be so brutal!
The whip had struck her on her right tit and had dug into her tender skin, leaving a heavy red welt that seemed ready to trickle forth warm, red blood at any moment.
Mistress Death threw back her head and shrieked with laughter like a banshee.
She lashed out again and again at Gertrude's body as the filthy slut scrambled across the floor as quickly as she could.
But Mistress Death was a pro at whipping the shit out of these vulgar bitches.
The whip struck Gertrude on her back, on her legs, on her ass.
Huge gashes appeared on the terrified woman's creamy skin.
It was not long before blood was coursing down Gertrude's skin.
"Stop! Stop! Oh, please, stop!" the girl begged, jumping once again as the whip struck her on the head.
But for Mistress Death, the fun was only beginning!
The dominatrix continued wailing with mad, hysterical laughter as she whipped Gertrude's putrid body with powerful, professional strokes.
There was no where in the dungeon Gertrude could hide from the fuck-crazed woman's lustful strokes of the whip!
Soon, Mistress Death had backed Gertrude up into a corner.
Gertrude Greengates looked up at her nascent sex mistress with tears flooding her eyes.
"PLEASE!! PLEASE!! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME!! OH, STOP! STOP!!! STOP!!!!" Gertrude wailed as blood poured down her pillaged body.
"That's the idea, you little whore!" the dominatrix cackled. "They don't call me Mistress Death for nothing, you know!"
But the woman suddenly thrust the whip away.
Gertrude huddled in the corner, shivering and attempting to nurse the numerous wounds that covered her naked, bloody body.
"Now it's time to tie you up and have you meet the pussy masher!" Mistress Death announced.
Gertrude shivered.
Sex had never been like this before!
And the little whore was not so sure she would enjoy the rest of the activities Mistress Death had so carefully planned for her!
The pussy masher?
What on earth could that be?
Gertrude realized she would be finding out.
Much sooner than she really wanted to!
The vicious, cruel dominatrix strutted over to the stretching rack and suddenly thrust off her clothes.
Even thought Gertrude was still in agony over the brutal whipping she had received, the filthy little nympho still felt her pussy trembling in delight as Mistress Death's shapely body was revealed before her lusting eyes.
The woman's tits and ass were just as luscious as Gertrudes'!
But much cleaner, of course!
Mistress Death whirled around and presented her nubile, sexy figure to Gertrude's total rapture.
"See this, bitch?" she asked, lewdly shoving a firm, slender finger between her pink pussy lips.
Gertrude gasped and nodded eagerly, even as she wiped the tears from her face and the blood from her skin.
"I'll be damned it you're going to get a piece of it until you are totally purified!" Mistress Death cackled cruelly.
Gertrude was crushed.
The fuck-lusting slut was desperate for Mistress Death's steaming cunt hole!
"And this is the pussy masher that will help rid you of your filthy, sluttish habits!" Mistress Death proclaimed, Gertrude, still shuddering in the corner in a pool of her own blood, gaped at a strange contraption that the beautiful, wicked creature pulled out from underneath the stretching rack.
It looked like a huge, three feel hypodermic needle made of iron.
A thick tube had a large handle-like device at one end. At the other was a forbidding, rounded shaft of iron that looked as if it would have trouble fitting into Gertrude's much-abused yet very tight pussy.
And the college professor had a sneaking suspicion that Mistress Death was planning on strapping that bizarre contraption around her ass, positioning the tube over her pussy, and shove the thick, iron shaft between her ravaged rwat walls!
Gertrude had been fucked by some pretty big cocks in her very slutty life, but she had never had one as monstrous at that thick, iron shaft plunged up her pussy!
She winced as she imagined how awful it would feel being thrust up her cunt.
Yet the girl realized that nothing would stop Mistress Death from carrying out her sordid, violent plans of sexual purification!
Mistress Death's hands trembled in anticipation as she attached a thin rope to one side of the bottom of the tube. This rope was in turn attached to a ring.
Gertrude might have been a slut, but she was a clever slut.
Not only had she realized what Mistress Death was planning on doing with the strange contraption she held in her hands, Gertrude figured correctly that the ring on the end of the rope was going to be shoved up her nose!
Gertrude thought of the two pointed sides of the ring snapping through the cartilage between her nostrils, and suddenly begged the dominatrix to come to her senses and free her from the dungeon of horror.
"I'll do anything you want me to, just let me go! Don't shove that thing up my pussy! I'll never be able to handle it! Don't shove that ring in my nose! I'll bleed to death!" Gertrude groaned.
Mistress Death thought this comment highly amusing, especially since the girls' flesh was already covered with coagulating blood from the deep gashes the lashes of the whip had ravaged her skin with.
Once again, Mistress Death threw back her head and cackled with hysterical laughter.
"You fucking whore!" she laughed. "I can do what the hell I want to with your filthy body! You're a vulgar slut who DESERVES to bleed to death! You'll be lucky if I decide to let you out of here alive!"
And with this terrifying comment. Mistress Death approached the trembling bitch with her eyes ablaze.
In her hands was the pussy masher, and a thick strand of rope.
Mistress Death smacked Gertrude a few times for good measure.
Although the woman had stripped her clothes from her fine body. Mistress Death had left her pointed leather boots on.
She kicked Gertrude mercilessly as the young college professor screamed and clawed at the walls for refuge.
None was given.
Gertrude was well and truly a prisoner in the torture chamber of this beautiful, cruel sadist!
"Stop your sobbing, cunt!" Mistress Death sneered.
She reached down and swiftly wrapped the strand of rope around Gertrude's legs and arms.
Soon, Gertrude was on her back on the cobbles-toned floor.
Both her arms and her legs had been tied together, and she grunted in discomfort as the gashes in her back scraped against the icy cold floor.
"Let me strap this pussy masher on that filthy cunt of yours, bitch!" Mistress Death said. "First, though, I'm going to have to stick this ring in your nose!"
Gertrude had never wanted a pierced nose before, but the position Mistress Death had just bound her up in did not leave her much of a chance for protest.
Mistress Death shoved the two sides of the ring into each nostril of Gertrude's pug nose.
She snapped them together.
Gertrude screamed as she felt the delicate cartilage between her two nostrils suddenly crack as the ring was secured in place.
Blood dribbled out of her nose and trickled into her mouth.
Gertrude choked and attempted to spit out her own blood.
Mistress Death strapped the pussy masher into position before Gertrude's terrified twat.
She wrapped leather strips around Gertrude's legs and tied them securely into place.
Gertrude could feel the tip of the thick, iron shaft that would soon be thrust deeply up her pussy lingering at the entrance to her fuck tunnel.
That cold, iron rod was going to absolutely rip her insides out!
She would be torn to shreads!
Gertrude Greengates would never be able to fuck like the sleazy little whore she was ever again!
But why hadn't Mistress Death shoved the handle forward, and forced the thick iron shaft to violate her twat? Why was the dominatrix going back over to the stretching rack?
"That big metal cock is going to fuck the hell out of your filthy twat," Mistress Death said. "But it is going to rape you with MY help!"
Gertrude gasped in horror as Mistress Death suddenly pulled out a huge metal belt with a monstrous hammer attached at the crotch.
Mistress Death was going to hammer the thick iron shaft into Gertrude's pussy!
The slutty little college professor lay on the cobblestones of Mistress Death's chamber of torture, blood pouring from the wound of her body and dripping from her nose, her arms and legs bound together and a gargantuan, metal cock positioned in front of her pussy.
Mistress Death was going to rape her sex slave with that big iron cock and save Gertrude from her vulgar, whorish fucking!
For after the dominatrix had finished hammering the iron shaft up Gertrude's fetid twat, Gertrude Greengates would be too battered and ravaged to ever want a thick, hot cock sliding up her hole ever again!
CHAPTER NINE
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Gertrude shrieked like the cunt-sucking whore she was when Mistress Death began hammering the thick iron rod deep up her fetid pussy.
"Take THAT! And THAT! And THAT, you stupid little slut!" Mistress Death cackled, getting on her haunches before the girl and thrusting the mighty hammer into the handle of the pussy masher as forcefully as she could.
Gertrude screamed in anguish every time the dominatrix's hammer shoved the coarse metal up her cunt.
The delicate lips to her pussy stretched as far apart as they could to take the massive girth of the cold iron between their moist warmth.
As Mistress Death screamed with cruel laughter, her savage thrusts became more and more brutal.
Gertrude could feel the ring in her nose threatening to snap her cartilage and send a fresh river of blood flowing down her face.
The young, whorish college professor tried her best to balance her ravaged form every time the dominatrix hammered home, but the way the wicked woman had tied her up made any sort of self-mobilization quite impossible.
Gertrude was totally under the command of Mistress Death and her bizarre torture devices!
She grunted and panted as if she were a cow in labor as the iron shaft was hammered into her much-fucked pussy.
The blood that had escaped from the gashes on her back and legs began to trickle anew as Gertrude's body skirted across the cold cobblestones of the dungeon floor.
Tears streamed down Gertrude's face as spasm after spasm of the most intense pain she had even experienced wracked her body.
Mistress Death seemed to revel in each nascent tear that dripped down her sex slave's cheeks.
"I'll teach you never to fuck another big cock again, you hateful little whore!" the dominatrix shrieked, her eyes ablaze with delight as she tortured Gertrude's vile twat again and again with the pussy masher.
And Gertrude knew that her mistress had been right all along.
Never again would her steaming cunt be capable of holding another rock-hard cock once the woman had finished the penetration.
When Mistress Death finally pulled the gargantuan iron shaft out of Gertrude's bloody, stinking hole, the vile slut would never be able to fuck again!
Her cunt would be too battered and abused to ever relish the carnal delights that had been such a big part of the disgusting, filthy bitch's life.
Gertrude Greengates would then be Mistress Death's sex slave.
And her purified pussy would be offered only for Mistress Death's sexual satisfaction.
Mistress Death threw back her head and screeched with laughter once again.
"Your bloody cunt is MINE, ALL MINE, YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BITCH!!" the dominatrix laughed.
And Gertrude had no choice but to believe her.
Professor Becker stopped reading his final composition at this point.
He looked up at the young college professor who was still bound to the desk chair before him.
His eyes were smoldering with hate and lust.
"Well, Professor Greengates," he said in a gruff voice. "What do you think? Did I successfully pass your Beginning Composition class?"
Gertrude had listened to the story with horror and disgust.
She had never heard herself described in such a manner! A slut!
A fuck-hungry whore! A vile, disgusting bitch!
Why did Professor Becker choose to call her all these horrible things?
She had never been overtly sexual in her life before.
Sure, she and Professor Naugles had had sex quite a few times during their lunch breaks, but that was certainly no reason to call her such awful things!
Professor Becker obviously was a very sick man.
And he must have fantasized for hours a day about these cruel, violent punishments that his characters received in his essays!
And now Gertrude Greengates found herself at the mercy of this deranged, blood-thirsty pervert!
Now that he had had his little bit of fun and tormented Gertrude by reading her his final essay, the pretty professor had a sneaking suspicion that physical torture was about to follow mental torment.
Professor Becker's eyes were aglow with fuck-lusting emotion.
He threw the typewritten pages he had composed about Gertrude and Mistress Death on the office floor, then went over to Professor Greengates' desk.
To her total terror, Professor Becker picked up the spiked dildo that sat in the middle drawer of the desk.
He approached the bound, gagged woman with trembling hands dripping with sweaty anticipation.
"So much for Mistress Death," he grunted. "Now it's time for you to suffer under my commands. And, I'm sorry to say, Gertrude, but I'm not going to be quite as kind as Mistress Death was to you in the essay."
Gertrude tried to struggle against the rope and belt the professor had tied her in the chair with.
Her eyes were wide with terror.
What was Professor Becker going to do to her?
Why was he wielding the iron dildo with such delight?
Why was he staring at her breasts with such passion and hatred?
Professor Becker took a small item out of his pocket.
"But before I shove this big iron cock up your disgusting twat," he said. "I have a few other things I'd like to do to those big tits of yours."
Gertrude gasped as she looked at what Professor Becker had taken out of his pocket.
It was a clothespin.
And she had a very good idea where that clothespin was going to be put. On her nipple!
Just thinking about it made Gertrude wriggle with anguish.
Perhaps having a clothespin attached to her tiny pink pap wasn't as horrible as the tortures that the girls in the essays had been forced to endure, but those poor females had been tormented in fiction.
Gertrude Greengates was about to be tortured in reality!
Professor Becker snapped the clothespin open.
He stood next to the young woman's bound body.
Gertrude could smell the strong odor of sweat that lingered on the man's body.
She wrinkled her nose in distaste.
Professor Becker reached down and suddenly attached the clothespin on Gertrude's right nipple.
SNAP!
Gertrude opened her mouth and tried to scream in pain.
But the metal contraption that the professor had gagged her mouth with made any type of vocal protest impossible.
The professor cackled with glee, much the same way as Gertrude imagined Mistress Death might have.
He then got down on his knees before Gertrude's trembling thighs.
"Gertrude, you have got such a fine body," Professor Becker purred with a gentleness that was positively terrifying.
He ran his thick, strong fingers along the length of Gertrude's inner thighs.
Gertrude squirmed in protest.
The circulation to her hands had been cut off by the tight belt and rope. Her tongue was held captive between two iron rods. Rings had been pierced brutally in both her nostrils. A clothespin had been attached to her nipple.
And now Professor Becker was fondling her with his perverted hands!
Gertrude was writhing in discomfort.
She hated his repulsive man who had written such nasty things about her!
But for someone who supposedly hated her as much as he implied he did, Professor Becker certainly was getting rather excited about running his hands over her thighs!
Gertrude looked down and saw beads of sweat forming on Professor Becker's brow.
The deranged man pulled down the zipper to Gertrude's jeans.
He grabbed the waistband and pulled them over her hips. Gertrude blushed.
Only her frilly panties hid her trembling pussy lips from the demented glare of Professor Becker's sex-starved eyes.
And in seconds, the professor had pulled the panties down also.
Professor Becker stared lovingly at Gertrude's thick bush of pubic hair.
His fingers crept along her inner thighs until they finally rested atop her outer cunt lips.
Gertrude squirmed in the desk chair as Professor Becker fondled her clit.
It got hard under the feel of his sensitive touch.
Excitement blazed in the professor's eyes.
"Gertrude, you've got such a lovely pussy!" the professor moaned, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Why do you let it be abuse so much by that bastard Professor Naugles?"
Gertrude looked on in helpless horror as the tenderness in Professor Becker's eyes suddenly transformed in hatred.
He picked up the spiked iron dildo he had placed on the floor beside his knees.
"It's too bad you're such a slut," he said. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have to do this!"
Gertrude's mouth shot open and her entire body suddenly jumped in torturous agony as Professor Becker placed the heavy iron rod at the entrance to her tunnel of love and shoved it down as far as it would go.
The thick metal spikes carved gash after gash into Gertrude's delicate pussy walls as it was thrust deeper and deeper down her cunt.
Blood gushed out in warm, smelly rivulets.
Professor Becker screamed with cruel laughter as his hands were spattered with the ruby red liquid.
"TAKE THAT, YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!" he shrieked.
Spasm after painful spasm of agony coursed through Gertrude's inner thighs as she was impaled on the end of the thick iron cock.
Professor Becker plunged the torture device in and out of her pussy, squealing with laughter as he heard the squelching sounds of the spikes shreading Gertrude's delicate sugar walls to bits.
Load after load of thick, red blood pumped from between the hairy lips of Gertrude's ravaged cunt.
And the young college professor suddenly collapsed in the chair, totally unconscious.
CHAPTER TEN
Roger Naugles stared at Professor Becker. "Professor Greengates went where?' he asked in disbelief.
"To Kalamazoo. We had to send her to Western Michigan University to do some research for the English Department. She, unfortunately, won't be back for quite some time, I'm afraid," Professor Becker replied. "Now, you really must get back in your office, Roger. You've been falling behind in your work lately. Some of your students have been complaining."
"Wait just one minute," Professor Naugles argued. "I find it very strange that Professor Greengates didn't tell me anything at all about this 'research'."
He didn't trust the head of the English Department.
And he certainly did not like the smug smile with which Professor Becker was replying.
"Oh, it came up very suddenly, I can assure you," Professor Becker said.
"Well, surely it's rather strange to send a professor to do research right in the middle of the semester! What's going to happen to all of her classes?"
"It most certainly is not the 'middle of the semester', Roger. It is only the end of the second week. And we have hired another professor to take over Gertrude's duties here at the university while she is away," Professor Becker replied. "You might be interested in her, also. Quite a pretty young lady!"
"And just what the hell do you mean by that?"
"Professor Naugles asked, turning a bright shade of red.
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. But I really would advise you to keep your nose out of things that have no concern with your academic or private life. I'm sure your wife wouldn't approve. Good day, Professor Naugles."
Roger Naugles stormed out of the English head's office.
Gertrude's disappearance was damn peculiar.
But he couldn't appear to be overly interested in what had become of his little lover.
His colleagues might begin to talk.
And Roger didn't want to lose any of the thousands of dollars his wealthy wife lavished on him every month. She would not be understanding if word leaked out about his clandestine relationship with Gertrude Greengates.
As Roger swaggered down the hall, he suddenly bumped into a voluptuous redheaded woman with luscious red lips and a firm, trim butt.
"Excuse me!" he exclaimed, staring the gorgeous creature up and down.
"Oh, my!" the woman gasped. "You certainly did give me a turn!"
She glanced down at the thick bulge in the handsome professor's crotch.
"My name is Amy Berlin," the woman said, extending a graceful, slender hand. "I'm new on the staff. I just took the place of ... uh ... Professor Greengarten."
"You mean Gertrude Greengates," Roger corrected, feeling blood surging to his horny cockhead.
The woman giggled.
"Oh, yes! That's it!" she replied.
Roger was suddenly very glad that Gertrude had been sent to Kalamazoo for research.
"My name is Roger Naugles," he said. "And I would be most delighted if you would come to lunch with me today!"
"Oh, my!"
Amy Berlin looked down at the throbbing package between the professor's muscular thighs.
"The pleasure would be all mine!" she breathed.
Roger smiled to himself, and all thoughts of his former lover vanished into thin air.
*****
"WHO IS YOUR MASTER, BITCH?" Professor Becker barked.
"YOU ARE!! YOU ARE, MASTER BECKER, SIR!!!" screamed Gertrude.
Professor Becker looked at his sex slave in the dim light of his cold, clammy dungeon of tortures.
Gertrude Greengates was the best little whore he had made prisoner in quite a while.
He stared at her naked, trembling body that was lying spread eagle on the pride of his chamber of horrors: his original, fifteenth century stretching rack.
Gertrude's arms and legs were bound tightly with thick, coarse rope.
Her ankles and wrists were bloody and raw; rarely had a day gone by when her sex master did not tie her up as tightly as he possibly could.
Gertrude had hated the first few days in the dungeon.
But she had quickly been taught exactly how to enjoy every bit of pain that Master Becker wracked her fragile, quivering body with.
Master Becker himself never seemed to be out of his leather gear.
The death mask he placed on his head had frightened the prim little college professor the first few days of torment and terror.
But she had gotten used to it, and even though the tiny slits through which her master's crazed eyes stared eagerly were rather cute.
Master Becker turned the handle on the antique stretching rack one more notch.
The torture machine might have been old, but Master Becker kept it well-oiled.
Gertrude shrieked in pain as she felt her limbs being stretched further and further out of their sockets.
Master Becker had kept her a prisoner on this particular machine for quite a few days now.
The first few times he had tried to stretch her bones had been excruciating for Gertrude's not-too-limber limbs.
But the girl had learned how to take any type of torture her master wished to inflict on her body.
Master Becker looked down at Gertrude's young body stretched out on the rack.
He had put the young woman through quite a lot.
Her body was covered with scores of gashed from the brutal whippings he had subjected her to.
Her pussy, still recovering from the heavy spikes of the iron dildo, was a mass of mangled purple flesh.
Her face had prematurely aged after only two weeks under her master's frightening commands.
But Gertrude still retained an aura of beauty and sexual youth that kept Professor Becker coming back for more.
He knew he would tire of his latest sex slave; he always did.
But for the time being, he was quite content to torture Gertrude to his heart's content.
And Gertrude wasn't exactly protesting much any more!
In fact, Master Becker had seen his sex slave writhe with delight on more than one occasion during the numerous tortures he had inflicted her young flesh with!
"YOU SILLY LITTLE CUNT!" Master Becker shrieked behind his leather death mask. "I'M GONNA WHIP YOUR FILTHY, SLUTTY BODY IF YOU DON'T QUIT MOVING!!"
"YES, MASTER!! YES! YES!!! I WILL STAY PERFECTLY STILL!!" Gertrude wailed.
"That's better."
The man swaggered away from the stretching rack.
Gertrude stared at her master's receding form. He looked so sensual, so sexy in all his leather gear!
She loved his big, black engineer boots! She loved his chains!
And she loved his death mask most of all!
Master Becker returned to his trembling, naked sex slave wielding a thick cat o'nine tails.
"You're going to get whipped now, bitch!" Master Becker spat out.
"PLEASE!! YES!! WHIP ME!! WHIP ME!! I WANT TO FEEL MY BLOOD SPURTING OUT ALL OVER MY NAKED BODY!! PLEASE!! WHIP ME!! WHIP MY TITS!!!" Gertrude moaned.
"I'LL WHIP MORE THAN YOUR FILTHY, WHORISH TITTIES!" Master Becker screamed. "I'M GOING TO WHIP YOUR ENTIRE, SLEAZY BODY!!!"
And with this remark, Master Becker suddenly struck out with the cat o'nine tails, hitting Gertrude squarely on her stomach.
The nubile sex nymphette was stretched so tightly on the rack that her body was barely able to jump in agony when the thick leather strands attacked her tender flesh.
But Gertrude looked down and saw the blood-red welts that suddenly appeared on her trim torso.
Master Becker cackled with hideous, terrifying laughter.
He lashed forward with the cat o'nine tails again and again, loving the sound of Gertrude's wails for mercy.
But he would give that slutty whore-bitch no mercy!
She had to be taught her lesson! Even if it meant certain death! "WHIP ME!! WHIP ME!!!" Gertrude screamed. "Why? Why should I whip you?" Master Becker snarled.
"Because I'm a filthy, disgusting whore who needs to be punished!" Gertrude gasped.
"You certainly are!" Master Becker grunted, snapping the cat o'nine tails once again.
Gertrude's creamy, ample breasts were soon a mass of deep, red gashes.
Blood began to trickle down her battered, naked form.
Gertrude had grown to love the feel of the thick, warm liquid as it pumped out of her veins and onto her naked skin.
It had happened so often since she had become Master Becker's sex slave, she had feared she would loose consciousness.
But Gertrude was becoming an old hand at being Master Becker's sex slave!
She could take almost any punishment now!
Master Becker threw the whip to the stone dungeon floor.
"Time to get you up off of that thing, cunt!" he snarled.
Gertrude had been tied to the stretching rack for so long, she wondered if she would be able to walk once her master untied her.
But she felt safe in the fact that Master Becker didn't allow her to stay untied for long.
She was sure he had another torture machine to introduce her to!
She certainly couldn't wait!
What agonies would her master inflict on her body next?
Gertrude was enjoying this much more than her English Comp 101 class!
She gasped in delight as Master Becker finally undid her wrists and ankles.
She ran her fingers along the nascent gashes that her master had just inflicted on her flesh.
She sat up on the stretching rack.
"Oh, my gracious!" she gasped.
"Ready for more, you little whore?" Master Becker snarled.
"Y-yes, sir!" Gertrude stuttered.
She was always hot for more nowadays!
"Good! Because I've got plenty more in mind for you and your filthy little body!" Master Becker said.
Gertrude trembled with fear of the unknown.
But deep down inside, she knew that she would probably enjoy whatever torture Master Becker decided to inflict on her body next!
Master Becker grabbed her right arm with his strong, firm hands that were covered with leather gloves.
His fingers dug into Gertrude's flesh and she winced.
He pulled her bloody body across the floor, dragging her carelessly as if she were a sack of potatoes.
Gertrude moaned as her ass bumped across the floor.
Splinters had dug into her skin and tiny spasms of pain shot though her body as the slivers of wood were lodged deeper and deeper into her skin.
"Here, put this on!" Master Becker demanded.
Gertrude hungrily stared at the item of leather clothing that her master threw on the floor beside her.
She reached down and fondled the material.
Master Becker had never let her put clothes on before!
This was definitely a treat for the deprived, depraved slut who was deep in the middle of her subservience training.
She looked at what Master Becker had commanded her to put on.
It resembled a leather bathing suit, except that Gertrude's tits and twat would be required to stick forth from holes that had been cut into the leather.
She tried to .stand up to put the leather suit on, but her legs were so weak from being stretched on the rack for the past few days, that she collapsed on the cobblestones once again.
Master Becker smacked Gertrude on the head and his sex slave slid across the cold stone floor.
"You stupid cunt! Get your ass into that suit! Or I'll kill you!" he grunted.
Gertrude was quite aware that Master Becker did not make idle threats.
If she was unable to please her master, he would certainly take it upon himself to dispose of her immediately.
Gertrude desperately wanted to make her master happy!
She reached for the leather suit with a weak hand that had almost been severed at the wrist after days of being bound tightly by coarse ropes.
"Ooooh! I can't wait to get into my nice new leather suit, sir!" Gertrude mumbled.
Master Becker smacked Gertrude across the face once again.
"STUPID SLUT!! WHO SAID YOU COULD ENJOY YOURSELF??!!" he yelled, his eyes blazing underneath the tiny slits of the death mask he was wearing.
Gertrude gulped nervously as she felt her stinging cheek.
Master Becker was so unpredictable at times!
But the girl didn't delay a moment longer in sliding her bloody body into the leather suit.
She stood up on wobbly legs and felt the hot leather caressing her maimed flesh.
Gertrude's tits bounced over the top of the leather suit. Her battered pussy, still aching from the spiked dildo, was exposed through a large slit between her legs.
Master Becker approached his sex slave with a thick strand of rope.
"You look too comfortable in that!" he growled. "It's time for you to be bound and gagged once again!"
The fuck-crazed pervert wound the rope tightly around Gertrude's blood-covered form.
She screamed in anguish when her master brutally shoved the rope up her pussy lit and continued to wind it up her torso and around her breasts.
Her pussy had been so abuse by the sharp metal spikes, she had thought that she would never be able to use it again for months!
And Master Becker had steered clear of her cunt.
He still called it filthy and smelly.
But he had finally touched it.
With the thick strand of rope.
And Gertrude had screamed in pain.
Master Becker had merely grinned in delight.
He wound the rope around Gertrude's head, sticking the thick stand in her mouth and pulling hard.
Gertrude gasped.
She could hardly breathe!
But Master Becker had, fortunately, left her nose free, and even though coagulated blood from the numerous ring she had pierced her nose with still blocked her nasal packages, Gertrude found that if she held her head at a certain angle, breathing was actually rather easy.
"Now, get your slimy ass over in that corner and face the wall," Master Becker barked.
Gertrude nodded timidly and stumbled over to the corner.
It was rather hard to walk correctly with the rope digging into her tender, raw pussy flesh.
But somehow the perky college professor turned sex slave managed it.
She faced the wall as she was instructed.
Gertrude heard Master Becker's heavy leather boots plodding across the stone floor towards her.
She had no idea what torture her master was going to inflict her with next.
But she was waiting in suspense to find out!
Master Becker threw a circular piece of metal over Gertrude's head and thrust it down over her shoulders.
This piece of metal locked the girls' hands in place above her aching tits. The metal dug into her arms and wrists with excruciating severity, but Gertrude could not cry out in pain; the rope had been tied too tightly around her mouth.
Master Becker suddenly thrust down the back of the leather suit that hid Gertrude's firm, tight ass.
"Get ready, bitch. I'm going to shove this thick, hot poker up your ass!" the evil man grinned, kneading Gertrude's buttcheeks lewdly. "That'll clean out your filthy hole where so many men have fucked you before."
Gertrude had never engaged in anal sex with Roger Naugles, but that fact wouldn't have stopped Master Becker on his fanatical purging spree.
He wanted to cleanse his sex slave's entire body before he finally allowed her the pleasure of feeling his big, hard cock thrusting deeply up her hole.
Gertrude's entire body jumped forward into the wall as she suddenly felt the tip of a scalding poker invading the tiny, tight hole of her ass.
The pain was so intense, so horrible that she almost passed out immediately.
But Gertrude had been battered and beaten so much in the past few weeks, she found that unconsciousness could not come and rescue her from the excruciating agony that wracked her tender butthole.
The smell of burning flesh reached her nostrils as Master Becker dug into her ass with the red-hot poker.
He wailed with cruel laughter behind his death mask as his sex slave struggled against the wall to fend off the burning poker that was being shoved up her hole.
The odor of charred buttmeat drifted through the dungeon.
Gertrude bit down tightly on the rope that had been shoved in her mouth.
She desperately wanted to scream out in pain. Wail in agony. But it was useless.
This horrible, intense anguish had coursed through her body many times before, and would continue to wrack her tender flesh.
Until Master Becker tired of his sex slave.
And went back to the typewriter once again to compose a few new essays for the newest member of his department.
Amy Berlin.
And the first essay she received from her mysterious student Harrison Young would be about the terrible and torturous purging session that occurred between Gertrude Greengates and her sex mistress, Mistress Death.
Master Becker plunged the poker further up Gertrude's charred ass.
He threw back his head once again.
And laughed.
And laughed.
EPILOGUE
Amy Berlin had been thoroughly trained as a sex slave. The task, as it turned out, had been a hell of a lot easier that Master Becker thought it was going to be.
She would do anything for Master Becker. She would take any punishment from him. She would suffer any humiliation for him. Any degradation. Any debasement!
"I want you to get on my torture table, slave," the sex master said.
"Yes, master, anything you say," the sex slave said.
"I want you to stretch out on your tummy," the sex master said.
"Right. Am I to be bound?" the sex slave said.
"Yes, you are going to be bound stringently," the sex master said.
"Will I be spread-eagled, sex master?" the sex slave said.
"Yes, you are going to be rudely quartered," the sex master said.
"Will I be bound with rope, master," Amy Berlin asked.
"No."
"What am I going to be bound with?" the sex slave said.
"You will be bound with steel," the sex master said. "Cuffs?"
"That's right. Cuffs attached to thick-linked chains," the sex master said. "Oh my."
"What are you going to do after you bind me, master?" the sex slave said.
"I am going to whip you, sex slave," the sex master said.
"What are you going to whip me with, master?" the sex slave said.
"I am going to use my favorite whip on you," the sex master said.
"Which whip might that be, sex master?" the sex slave said.
"I am going to whip you with the cat," the sex master said.
"The cat of nine tails, sex master?" Amy Berlin inquired.
"That's right."
"Oh my. That will do serious damage to my body," the sex slave said.
"That, sweetheart, is the whole motherfucking idea," he said.
Amy Berlin stretched out on the wooden slab on her belly. Amy Berlin's tits were crushed against the wood. She had her arms back at her sides. Amy Berlin's legs were together and her knees were locked in the straight position.
Master Becker grabbed Amy Berlin by the left wrist after attaching the chains and steel cuffs to bolts in the four corners of the torture table. He gripped her wrist so hard that he hurt her. His fingertips dug into the tissues at the inside of her wrist and the inside of her forearm. Amy Berlin could tell that her flesh was being bruised where Master Becker was gripping. She felt as if she were caught in a bear-trap. The cruel man pulled her arm up over her head toward the appropriate corner of the torture table. She could feel her arm getting yanked so hard that she could not help but scream in pain.
"O WW WW WW WW."
Master Becker knew that this was just the first of many screams that would come from Amy Berlin's mouth before the sado-masochistic sex session was complete. Master Becker yanked at her arm so hard that she thought her bones were about to break. She thought that Master Becker was going to break her arm at either the wrist or the elbow. Master Becker yanked at Amy Berlin's left arm so hard that she thought her shoulder was going to be ripped right out of its socket. He pulled her arm so that it was locked in the straight position.
*****
Master Becker clamped the steel cuff around the woman's left wrist and locked it in place. Master Becker made sure that the cuff was as tight as possible around her wrist. Amy Berlin learned at the last second that there were steel teeth on the inside of the cuff, and those teeth were biting into the flesh around her wrist. She correctly assumed that the other three cuffs were toothed as well. She could tell that the cuff was gripping at her wrist so tightly that the circulation of blood to her hand was completely cut off.
Amy Berlin could tell without looking that the tips of her left fingers were turning a deep purple color. She could tell that the tips of her fingers were turning the same color as the sexual dominant's cock head when he had a full-fledged boner. She could feel pins and needles in the tips of her fingers and she correctly assumed that she was not going to be able to feel those pins and needles for long-no, not for very long at all.
She could tell that it was not going to be long before she wouldn't be able to feel anything at all in the tips of her fingers. She could tell that her fingertips and her fingers-and her entire left hand, for that matter-were soon going to be rendered unadulteratedly feelingless by the brutal steel bondage Master Becker was cruelly administering. Amy Berlin tried to wiggle her fingers at the knuckles and discovered to her dismay that she could only do this with an ever-increasing amount of difficulty. Amy Berlin could feel her knuckles getting stiffer and stiffer. Amy Berlin could tell that soon she wasn't going to be able to wiggle her fingers at all. Her fingers were going to be rendered both feelingless and motionless by the bondage.
The man circled around the torture table. He caressed her ass cheeks.
"Your skin is so smooth, so sweet-now. But soon-" Master Becker laughed.
Master Becker knew that he did not have to complete the sentence.
"There is no point in denying it. You know I WANT to be whipped," she said.
"You have learned your lessons well, my pretty," Master Becker said.
"I can feel my whole body TINGLING IN ANTICIPATION!"
"Yes."
"I want you to hold nothing back, master," Amy Berlin said. "I never do."
"I want to feel the skin ripped off of my body," she said. "Good."
"I want to feel myself getting MUTILATED!" Amy Berlin said.
"Perhaps we will get to mutilation later," Master Becker said.
"I want you to pluck my eyes out of my head!" she exclaimed.
"Perhaps."
"I want you to rip my tongue out by the roots," she said. "I'll think about it."
"I want you to cut off my limbs slowly with a saw," Amy Berlin said. "We'll see."
"I want you to cut off my nipples and drink my milk from my coconuts," the sex slave said. "What interesting imagery, sex slave," Master Becker commented.
The man repeated the bondage process with the other arm.
"I can no longer feel anything in either of my hands."
Master Becker moved down to the foot of the torture table.
"I am going to OPEN YOU UP WIDE, CUNT!" Master Becker said.
"Yes, please."
The man pulled her legs open as if he were making a wish with a human wishbone. He laughed with a laugh that dripped evil.
Amy Berlin drooled from the cunt and the mouth at the same time.
"Now I will bind your ankles in place," Master Becker said.
This was quickly done.
"I cannot move a muscle, master," Amy Berlin said hysterically.
She could tense and relax her muscles, but she could not move them.
"Give me the whip, master, give me the whip!" Amy Berlin said.
"Okay."
He fetched the cat of nine tails and laid into her creamy ass. SMACK! WHACK!
CRACK! SMACK!
"OWWWWWWWW, OWWWWWWWW, YOU ARE HURTING ME SO BAD, SEX MASTER, YOU ARE HURTING ME SO BAD. I CAN FEEL THE CAT OF NINE TAILS TEARING THE FLESH FROM MY BONES. I CAN FEEL THE CAT OF NINE TAILS TEARING THE FLESH FROM MY BONES, SEX MASTER," the sex slave said.
*****
He released her. Flipped her. Bound her again.
"Now I am going to fuck you, sex slave," Master Becker said. "But-"
"But what?"
"Your cock is soft."
"I said nothing of fucking you with my cock," the sex master said.
"What are you going to fuck me with?" the sex slave said.
"I am going to fuck you with my fist, sex slave," the sex master said. "Nooooooooo," the sex slave said. "Oh yes." And he did!
*****
Master Becker punched his fist and some of his forearm right up into the beautiful woman's belly. Master Becker twisted his fist inside Amy Berlin's soft underbelly. He had his fist clenched so tight that his knuckles were whitened.
"Take it!"
He pulled out.
Punched inside.
Twisted.
Pulled out.
Punched inside.
Twisted.
He pulled his bloody fist out of her cunt for the final time.
The beautiful female subservient was no fun to play with anymore. The shapely and masochistic sex slave had lost her charm.
Master Becker, once again, was going to have to find himself a new playmate.
