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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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