Author: Priapus

Title: Busting a Nut

Part: 7 Epilogue

Summary: A man is lured out of a strip club to a palatial estate
and finds himself the guest of honor at an orgiastic celebration.

Keywords: MF, MM, M+F+, Fdom, cbt, fist, cast, rape, tort, nc,
snuff, rim, scat, piss, vore

Universe: Scythian Sisterhood

Busting a Nut

Priapus <priapic_wonder@yahoo.com>


http://castrisecret.tumblr.com/


After the ceremony was completed, and the crowd had dispersed
back into the mansion to work off the intense erotic tension
generated by the elaborate rituals they had witness, the prisoner
was slowly lowered the ground onto a stretcher, and toted to the
recovery room.  He may have been conscious, but the ordeal he had
suffered had drained all resistance from his body, so restraints
were unnecessary.

Dr. Orchimedes tended to his maimed scrotum.  The experienced
surgeon was surprised at how long the prisoner’s drug-induced
tumescence lasted.  Even after he was all stitched up--a smooth,
bruised patch of skin where his balls had once hung proudly--the
man still had a thick meaty cock. Not stiff enough for
penetration, but with a little more stimulation it might be able
to produce a workable erection. The doctor toyed with the
impressive phallus idly as he waited for the call from Pandora,
considering what sorts of wonderful tortures lay in store for the
sensitive, but reproductively useless, bit of male flesh.

 Hours later, after most of the guests had dispersed; the doctor
declared John fit enough to be presented to Pandora for
assignment.  Two burly consorts dragged the naked, wilted man by
the arms from the recovery room to her private suite and launched
him into the middle of her Persian carpet.

She was sitting behind her desk, naked, on the back of a
similarly naked servant.  John looked up from the floor, and
could see the other man’s naked form clearly below the open frame
of the writing desk.  His crotch was completely smooth, no cock,
no balls.  The man wore nothing but a blindfold.

On his back, he saw the now familiar sight of his tormentor’s
naked pussy.  She sat with her legs spread, to give him the best
view of that which he could never possess.

“Thank you for joining me.” Her voice was sweet, caring almost.
She stood and walked toward him.  He could hardly roll over, much
less carry out the drive he had to tackle her and choke the life
out of her.  He lay on his back and stared up at her, into her.

“You’re not so different from the other men who have come through
here, John.  You think you are, but you are the same sort of scum
we are all too familiar with here in the Sisterhood.  There was a
knock at the door.  ‘Come in,” she called.

“Mark, good to see you again.  I have to compliment you on your
appetizer tonight.  What don’t you come join me here?  Let John
see how devoted you are to the Sisterhood.  Let him see what a
devoted servant is willing to do to impress us.”

The servant was naked as he straddled the prone form of the
exhausted prisoner.  John didn’t know it but the servants only
wore their leather “humility” straps in the presence of men and
women who would otherwise be shocked to see the mangled male
parts that hung between their legs.

“Mark is one of the lucky ones,” Pandora explained as she reached
between his legs.  “We allowed him to keep his testicles intact,
mostly because he in turn agreed to serve us unconditionally, and
proved his devotion by cutting the head off of his own erection,
sautéing it, and serving it to me as a symbol of his love for our
severe discipline.  It was delicious, and even more so when he
whipped up a frappe of his tasty semen as a topping.”

Mark squatted down and showed John his cock, or what was left of
it.  It was a stump, the charred end tinged with black. Mark
seemed proud of it.  “Did you enjoy the flavor?” he asked of the
writhing prisoner.  I sliced paper thing pieces off for that
Carpaccio you had tonight, made a nice glaze with my cum.  Then
burnt the end in the frying pan to make it stop bleeding.”  He
had a manic look, and John didn’t react…he was in shock at the
idea of having eaten a portion of another man, willingly offered.


“It doesn’t matter if you liked it, Mistress Pandora said she
did.  That’s all that matters.”  The servant looked back at her.
“Will you take my balls soon Mistress?  Please?  I’ll cut them
off and serve them myself!”

“Not yet, Mark, not until we’ve eaten all the rest of your
delicious cock.”  She looked down at the charred stump.  “It
doesn’t look like it will be long now, dear.”

Mark left, happy and hopeful.

Pandora looked down at John.  She called over the two burly
consorts that had dragged him into the room.  “Hold him down, I
want to introduce him to his new duties here at the estate.”

The consorts complied, pinning the weak man easily.

“Hold his mouth open,” she said, squatting over his face,
hovering an inch above him.  They pressed his cheeks open with
strong thumbs, forcing him to open wide as the mistress released
her hot, bitter yellow stream of urine into his mouth.  He choked
and spit, trying to avoid it, but she peed longer than he could
hold out, and he had to swallow some.  He saw her rectum pulse
and twitch, and feared the worst, but after a minute or so of
trying she stood up.

“I apologize for not being able to take a crap down your
ungrateful throat, but alas, I just don’t have it in me.”  She
laughed at her own joke.  “No worries.  Because of the amount of
my golden fluid you have ungratefully spilled, I have decided
that you need to learn how to properly drink before you eat.”

She looked at the guards.  “Take him to the servant’s urinal, and
lock his head in the bowl.  If he doesn’t learn to drink, he will
drown.  If he drowns, dispose of him, if he doesn’t, then make
sure he does a turn in the stalls until he learns to eat.  Once
he has learned all that he needs to know, you can bring him to
the Sister’s washroom for a couple months of servitude. Make sure
that he gets no food or drink except that which he willingly
consumes during this time.”

The consorts began to drag the man away.  Stunned by the
terrifying knowledge of his fate, to serve as a human toilet for
the men and women of the estate, he finally rebelled, weakly, one
last time.  “You’ll not get away with this!  People will miss me,
they’ll find me!  You’ll be sent to prison!”

She stepped up to him, imperious, unbowed, and gloriously naked.
“Oh John, were you hoping to scare the shit out of me? Really? 
Lucky for you I’m unable to give a shit about you right now.” 
She laughed haughtily and continued.  “Right now, the Sisterhood
is staging the scene of your official death.  Your car is being
smeared with the leftover gore of your castration, and will be
plunged off the peak of the Skyway at an opportune moment, when
the only witnesses are those who will convincingly testify that
you drove off the top of the bridge, out of control.  You’re body
will never be found, but there will be enough of your blood to
convince investigators of your death, and with the tide going
out, it will be assumed that your remains were consumed by
sharks.  After a very short mourning period, Joy will collect the
$3 million dollar insurance policy that she is entitled to, and
she will be free to live her life as she desires, as you remain
here with us, to eat shit, and eventually, to die.”