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From: exdaedalus@aol.com (ExDaedalus)
Subject: Elizabeth's Story - Part One (MF/F N/C)
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Here is Part One of Elizabeth's Story.


All the usual caveats apply.  This material is not intended for minors.



- Elizabeth's Story -


i


Elizabeth was thirty-two years old, tall and slim.  Short, auburn curls framed
an attractive face, her breasts were not large but still nicely shaped, and
long, tapering legs promised an enticing picture when helped by high-heeled
shoes and stockings.  She had two children; one ten and one eight, and so there
had been ample time for her body to recover some of its pre-pregnancy
qualities.  The family was watched for two weeks leading up to the abduction: 
Her husband left for  work at seven-o'clock in the morning.  At eight-thirty
Elizabeth took the children to school, then picked up groceries before
returning home.  At four-o'clock she returned to the school to collect the
children.  Her kidnappers broke into the house one morning while she was out. 
When she returned, they were waiting for her and she stood no chance against
the three men.


They toyed with her for an hour before driving her away.  They took her
upstairs to her bedroom and made her fetch out all of her lingerie.  Elizabeth
was ordered to undress and when she had done so, her attackers took turns in
choosing items of clothing for her to wear.  She was made to parade around the
bedroom in skimpy underwear that concealed nothing, but titillated her
audience.  Ransacking the bedroom, the men discovered Elizabeth's vibrator. 
Humiliating her utterly, they forced her to use it on herself, and were not
satisfied until she had brought herself to a climax.  Then, selecting a
brassiere, pantyhose, and a dress and shoes from her closet, the kidnappers
ordered Elizabeth to get dressed.  Finally, she was drugged and, before she
lost consciousness, hurried to a waiting van.


Elizabeth waited in a dark cell for two days before she was taken to the place
where the torture-films were made.  Her dress and brassiere were removed, and
she stood semi-naked, her attractive breasts pouting, in front of several men
and women.  Two men took her by the arms and Elizabeth watched a narrow belt
being placed about her waist.

"W-what are you going to do?" asked the terrified woman, as the men fastened a
buckle and placed her wrists in cuffs attached to the sides of the belt. 
Suddenly, powerful overhead lights came on, bathing Elizabeth in their
illumination.  A woman stepped into the light and stood in front of Elizabeth.

"We are going to make a movie - several movies, in fact - of you being
tortured in a number of different ways.  Extremely unpleasant ways for you, but
very enjoyable for those who buy the films.  And for some of us who make them."

The woman, who was older then Elizabeth, smiled grimly. 

"Oh, my god!" gasped Elizabeth.  "Please!  No!  I don't want to be h-hurt ..."



"Of course you don't," agreed the woman.  "That's one of the entertaining
aspects of what we do here.  The market for scenes of consensual torture is
tiny compared with that for those staring unwilling victims."  As she spoke,
cameras on large dollies were being wheeled up and arranged about the spot
where Elizabeth stood.

"Wha-what is g-going to happen?" stammered Elizabeth. 

"You'll see," said the woman.  Reaching out, she took Elizabeth's left breast
in one hand.  The nipple stood large and erect.  Elizabeth tried to back off,
but the men at her sides held her secure.  The woman produced a cord in her
free hand.  The cord ended in a small noose which the woman deftly slipped over
the delicate, enticing tip of the breast.  The woman tugged the cord and the
noose tightened, causing Elizabeth to suck in her breath.  "Now give me the
other one," the woman said, and moments later she was leading her unfortunate
victim forward, into the focus of the lights, by both nipples.


A smooth, round, horizontal bar pressed against Elizabeth's belly.  The bar
was too high for her to step over and she was obliged to bend forward as the
woman holding the cords continued to move back.  She let out a groan, then a
plea to be released, as her breasts and nipples became extended.  She was bent
almost horizontally when she saw what the woman intended for her.  Then she
cried out aloud for the first time.   The woman threaded the cords under metal
hoops, like inverted 'U's, set into the top of a wooden stock.  The hoops,
large enough only for a finger or thumb to pass through, were about as far
apart as Elizabeth's breasts, and when the stock was pushed forward until it
rested beneath her inclined torso, her nipples were drawn through.  The woman
pulled on the cords, eliciting cries of pain from Elizabeth, until the tan
haloes were squeezed through the small openings.  Out of the dimness came a man
with a mallet.  With two swift, accurately gauged blows he drove the hoops of
metal into the stock, trapping the tips of Elizabeth's breasts and causing her
to shriek in pain.


Elizabeth bucked, and screamed, but her breasts were held secure and she only
managed to hurt them more by moving.  Her head had been drawn back, so that her
face looked up, and fastened in that position by tying off her hair to the band
around her waist.  The bar over which she was bent had been raised until her
feet came off the floor, and her ankles secured so that her legs were straight
but wide apart.  She bucked again and another agonized sound escaped her
throat.  In fact, each time the man standing behind her pressed the tip of the
electrically-heated needle into her clitoris, Elizabeth's body made a vain
attempt to convulse, and the restrained paroxysm was accompanied by a
resounding scream.  And every moment of this torment was being captured by the
cameras that stared without emotion upon the scene. 


The man lowered the instrument and rested.  The muscles controlling
Elizabeth's abdomen and genital region were quivering.  A dozen times the
needle had been used on her and she had no reason to assume that more were not
forthcoming.  The pain in her clitoris was agonizing, and she sobbed
continually, choking out entreaties to the people who stood watching her.  The
woman who had bound Elizabeth's nipples appeared from among the audience.  She
was carrying a clip- board.  The sounds of the cameras had stopped. 

"That was interesting," the woman remarked in an amused tone.  "I haven't seen
that before ..."

"Please!  Don't hurt me any more," Elizabeth managed to beg in a coherent
voice.  "Let me go, for god's sake."

The woman chuckled softly. "Let you go?  Of course we're not going to let you
go - not yet anyway.  The woman studied her clip-board.  "That was an excellent
ten-minute short!  We have you scheduled for another half-dozen scenes," she
added casually, patting Elizabeth's cheek and walking around the fastened
figure to where the man with the needle stood.  As she did so, a desperate wail
emanated from Elizabeth.


The woman stood holding the device the man had used to induce the intense pain
in Elizabeth's clitoris.  A long, fine, silver needle protruded from the
pistol-grip in her hand.  She was surprised when she pressed the trigger and
saw nothing happen.  The man saw the quizzical expression.

"You were expecting to it glow?"

"Well, yes," the woman replied.

"If it were that hot, it would have destroyed the nerve-endings.  Not much
fun.  Just a short-lived burn.  Right now, all of the nerve tissue is very much
alive," he added smugly.  The woman moved close to Elizabeth, so that she could
inspect what had been done.


The gusset of Elizabeth's pantyhose had been cut away.  The entrance to her
vagina was closed, still guarded by the two pairs of lips, but the small fold
of fleshy tissue normally covering her clitoris was pushed back and seemed to
be held like that by something resembling a peculiarly bent paper-clip. 
Exposed was the swollen organ, the twelve angry marks on its surface showing
where the heated metal point had entered.  The woman pressed the tip of a
finger against it, and a scream filled place.

"See what I mean," said the man.  "She wouldn't have felt a thing if I'd
charred it."



                                                       ii 



The woman directed the crew, having them shift lights and cameras into place
for the next scene.

Elizabeth was still in severe pain and she moaned softly all the time, but,
when a lamp was maneuvered into position above her fastened breasts, she began
to whimper.

"Not there," she pleaded to nobody in particular.  "Please, not there.  I
couldn't stand that ..."  Her voice trailed off and she watched, her terror
growing, while a camera was pushed next to the stock, and a man focused the
camera's lens on her right breast.


The woman had wheeled a cart up to the stock, and then pulled a low bench next
to Elizabeth.  She sat on the bench, stroking the large nipple at the tip of
Elizabeth's right breast with her fingers.  From a tray on the cart, she
retrieved a small bowl of clear liquid and a cotton-ball.  She swabbed the
nipple with the liquid.

Moments later Elizabeth's eyes widened and she drew in a long, sibilant breath
before allowing a gurgling noise to leave her throat.   The nipple grew torrid,
and the volume of Elizabeth's screaming increased.  After a few minutes
Elizabeth's nipple had swollen to twice its normal size and the skin covering
it was as tight as a drum-skin.  Elizabeth's shrieks had become maniacal.  For
a further five minutes she thrashed in a fit of agony - as much as her bonds
would permit, screaming at the top of her voice.  Perspiration covered her
naked torso, and her bare skin shone in the camera lights.  The pain climaxed
and Elizabeth's voice became mute for a few seconds before her lips formed a
near-perfect circle and she began to emit a drawn-out 'Oh'. The sound came to
and end finally in a hoarse rattle.

Elizabeth's agony subsided as rapidly as it had mounted, and she collapsed
suddenly; draped over the metal bar, hanging limply by her imprisoned breasts.
She cried pitifully, her words hardly audible or intelligible,  begging her
torturers to release her.


It was the needle-man's turn to express surprise.

"What is this stuff?" he asked, picking up the bowl and carefully,
suspiciously, holding it under his nose.

"Carbon tetrachloride," the woman informed him.  "It's a de-greasing agent.  I
removed all of the natural oils from her skin, leaving the tissue unprotected
from the air."

"I didn't know the air was that dangerous," the man replied, quickly putting
the bowl back on the cart.

"The oxygen is.  It burns."

"Without doubt," the man concurred.

He studied Elizabeth, who was breathing heavily but still limp, still uttering
her almost silent entreaties.  He looked at her right nipple.  The swelling had
not subsided; the skin was still smooth and shiny and taught.  He watched the
woman take a scalpel from the tray, then carefully apply the blade to the very
tip of the nipple.  The skin split with an audible pop, and a second later, the
air was rent by the last sound Elizabeth made before fainting.

"Cut the cameras!" the woman ordered.  "Take five, and start running again
when you see her regaining consciousness."  She stood and, with a fingernail,
touched Elizabeth's ruptured nipple, flipping back a piece of loose skin that
still clung to it.  Turning to the needle-man, she said:  "I'll wait until then
before peeling this off.  The effect will hold your interest for a while, I
promise."


The needle-man was not disappointed.  Elizabeth's eyes rolled back in their
sockets and the veins in her neck bulged while her nipple and the surrounding
halo were decorticated with dreadful slowness.  As the viable dermis beneath
the outer layers of skin was exposed, the pain became so excruciating that
Elizabeth fainted for a second time. She had to be revived with ammonium salts.

When the woman had finished, and Elizabeth's pleas for mercy were no longer
understandable, the needle-man asked:

"Do you have any more tricks like that one?"

"Of course," the woman told him.  She gently placed a fingertip against
Elizabeth's intact, left nipple and went on:  "This one will end up just like
its mate, but not in the same fashion.  There's more than one way to skin a
cat, you know" she grinned.

"Or a nipple," the man suggested.



                                                    iii  


   The man carefully prepared Elizabeth's labia; going through a
well-practiced procedure developed to expose the two pairs of delicate lips
protecting his victim's vagina.

Elizabeth's pubic hair had been removed, leaving her voluptuous mounds and
hollows (which, the man noticed, had been untouched by the Sun's tanning rays)
as clean and as smooth as polished alabaster.  Onto the delicate, depilated
skin he painted adhesive.  Then, working with one pair of lips at a time, he
peeled the pliant tissue open, folded it back and held it like that for a
minute or so; until the adhesive had bonded.  When he had done this to both
pairs of lips, the textured, rosy inner surfaces were revealed like the petals
of a flower.  The entrance to Elizabeth's vaginal canal was presented to him
unobstructed.

Moving two fingers into the passage, he pressed the coruscated wall and felt
the strong muscle tighten as Elizabeth reacted to the unwelcome intrusion.  For
a few moments he allowed himself the pleasure of exploring the cloister,
receiving some enjoyment from the resistance Elizabeth put up in her vain
attempt to prevent him from delving further into her.

While his fingers groped indelicately, he dropped his gaze to the shapely,
elegant legs that were pinned open, allowing him the access he needed.  His
free hand moved over the alluring curves of Elizabeth's calf and thigh,
stroking the shimmering material of her pantyhose and delighting in the sensual
feel of it.


Elizabeth moaned; the tone of her voice betraying her knowledge that the
torture was about to be resumed.  At last, the man withdrew his fingers, though
only partially satisfied that Elizabeth was cognizant enough to understand what
was happening to her.  He had been astonished by the amount of pain she had
sustained from the simple excoriation of one of her nipples.  But he had also
been concerned that his victim may have become numbed to any further,
protracted agony.  In order to repudiate his concern, he pressed a fingernail
against Elizabeth's clitoris.

The immediate, convulsive response, accompanied by a gasped shriek, convinced
him that Elizabeth's senses were fully operating.  He reached down; his right
hand grasping a dentist's drill attached to the end of an articulated arm; the
other picking up a cloth that had been soaking in a pan.   Bracing his right
arm against Elizabeth's thigh, he started the drill.

The tiny, surgically engineered bit turned two thousand times every second,
and carried a little brass-wire brush in its jaw.  The raw ends of the bristles
kissed the inner surface of Elizabeth's major lip for only an instant, but
during that fraction of a second, they stripped a tiny piece of flesh, the
diameter of a pencil and the thickness of a pencil-lead, from the sensitive
tissue.  The man removed his drill, then quickly pressed the saturated cloth
against the flayed area.  The astringent aroma of a styptic caught in his
nostrils.  However, the impact the strong odor on his senses was overwhelmed a
moment later as Elizabeth dredged from her lungs a frenzied, frenetic shriek
that assaulted his ears.


The man kept Elizabeth screaming for twenty minutes before what he was doing
to her made her lapse into unconsciousness. He had been able to extend his
torture much longer than the woman had managed. And he reckoned that the cries
he had elicited from Elizabeth had been louder and more drawn out than those
she had offered before, in trade for mercy, while her nipple was being peeled. 
He examined the results of his efforts.  In twenty minutes, the drill had made
its brief encounter with Elizabeth's skin twenty times; both of Elizabeth's
large lips bore half-a-dozen wounds, while the remainder of the scour marks
from the wire-brush were shared between the two smaller, more sanguineous - and
more sensitive - lips

The woman admired what she saw.  Each of the score of tiny injuries, now
flecked with pin-points of blood - but not bleeding, had drawn an animal scream
from Elizabeth.  The woman glanced upwards and noted how the lights and camera
had been situated.  A satisfied smile crossed her lips;  both the cause of
Elizabeth's agony and the effect it had had upon her had been well captured on
celluloid.  She bent in order to inspect the mutilated labia more closely, then

drew away suddenly, wrinkling her nose.

"Vinegar?" she said in a startled tone.  The man smiled. 

"Sort of," he replied.  "Dilute acetic acid, actually.  In addition to
contracting the blood vessels, the styptic solution has a mild anaesthetic
effect.  The acid overcomes that and heightens the pain."

"You don't say," the woman chuckled.


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