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From: "Hal" <hconte@globalnet.co.uk>
Subject: new story: Anita
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Anita
Chapter one

The woman was rich, very rich. In fact she was rich enough to indulge
herself in her one consuming passion, and more to the point, to be able to
do so with impunity. Not for her the passion of chocolate, drugs or alcohol.
Not for her the passion of fast cars or a rich life style, although truth to
tell she had both. No, her real passion was pain. Oh not hers of course, but
that of other much less fortunate individuals who from time to time fell
into her grasp. Nothing stirred her more than the screams, moans and
whimpers of the young body she was working on in unbelievably cruel and
sadistic ways.

A doctor of medicine in her own right, she had first met her late husband
when called upon to patch up a member of his private army who had managed to
get himself shot. Two things had come from that chance encounter. An
operation in field conditions without the benefit of any sort of anaesthetic
had impressed on her that causing pain was very pleasurable, erotic and even
sexually gratifying. The second was that having come to the notice of one of
the richest drug barons in Columbia, he became infatuated by her, and seeing
her chance she was only too happy to become his life partner for all the
luxury it could bring her. His eventual and untimely death left her in
control of vast income not only from drugs, but also the sale of videos of
her torture victims.

The mansion she resided in was old, large and very secluded. High in the
mountain ranges above the surrounding jungle, it was far from any other
residence, and all but inaccessible by any other means than it’s own
airstrip. The interior however belied its age. Efficient air conditioning of
the most modern type kept the house at a very comfortable temperature
through out the year, and very discrete servants saw to all of madam’s
needs, although their real work load was light and mainly one of
supervision. A small but very efficient and loyal private army also meant
complete safety from any outside force.

Madam Anita was about forty years old, but she still had a very beautiful
figure. Full breasts although large were not out of proportion to her 5’ 10”
of height in her unshod feet. Long black hair shone with health and framed a
beautiful but stern hard face. The most noticeable thing about her though
was the look in her eyes. Cold and heartless they could drive fear into even
the strongest of men unlucky enough to displease her.

She was sitting in a luxurious lounge watching a large television set. The
soft leather of the sofa and chairs glistened in the subdued light, their
lustre, as was the shine on all of madam’s boots, provided by the hard work
of many a slave’s tongue. Four videos lay near her, all depicting scenes
from the lives of her past victims and leaving her feeling the need for new
tender flesh to feed her sadistic pleasure. She drew deeply on her cigarette
then flicked the ash into the mouth of the bound and helpless young girl
kneeling at the side of the sofa whose mouth was held wide open by a metal
ring. A cruel grin was on her mouth as she looked at the video of a young
boy. A close up showed in great detail his hairless, bound testicles
separated and pulled painfully down and out while a large needle pierced the
head of his penis prior to a large ring being inserted. His screams echoed
around the room causing madam’s vagina to lubricate in her excitement. Well
she remembered how he practically pulled his arms out of their sockets when
she poured the medical alcohol over the new wound she’d just inflicted on
that very tender part of his anatomy.

She pressed the remote sending a jolt of electricity deep into the bowels of
her video slave who quickly crawled to insert a new video. This one was
especially pleasing to madam. The young girl had been the seventeen year old
daughter of an American diplomat who had done his utmost to persuade the
Colombian government to deal harshly with the drug suppliers. It had been
amazingly easy to kidnap her even from within the USA, and madam had taken
great delight in providing her family with videos of her intense torture.
What a fool the man was, thinking that backing off from his actions would
return his daughter to him. The cane crashed into the soles of the girls
feet held available by the simple means of having her calves tied tightly to
her thighs, while her toes were also tied to keep her foot from curling. The
camera panned up past her tightly tied breasts to show the agony in her
face. The view widened then to show the agony was not just caused by the
cane but the cruel way the girl had been suspended by her young but well
developed breasts, with the tips of her knees just touching the cold floor.
The slightest movement made the girl feel as if her breasts would be ripped
from her body, but the intense sting of the cane on her now swollen feet did
not allow her to remain still. Unfortunately there was little noise from the
girl now, several hours of torture had left her with little voice to scream
with, and bubbling moans were the best she could manage.

Casually stubbing her cigarette out on her ashtray’s tongue she flicked her
remote once again. Her video slave struggled to reach the video and replace
it with the next one. A spreader bar behind his knees forced them widely
apart making crawling very difficult, and to add to his discomfort his feet
were also tied up to his thighs. Clips on his nipples were fastened to his
wrists as well, so that any forward movement of his hands pulled them
tightly and making it look as though he had the breasts of a woman. Finally
elasticised string attached to madam’s sofa and pulling hard on his
testicles vied with the electrical impulses shooting through his rectum.

Ah yes. Her matched pair in the pony races. Blond twins harnessed to a
buggy, and they had done well that year winning her the cup for the fourth
year running. Not that it surprised anyone of course, her training methods
practically guaranteed a win, and she was an expert judge of pony flesh. The
welts on their rumps however bore witness to how hard the race had been, as
did the sweat on their bodies. Vicious clips attached tightly to their
nipples, and trailing reigns indicated that madam did not rely on bits in
their mouths to negotiate the bends in the course. Unlike some owners
though, madam did not provide her ponies with false tails, preferring  the
only hair to be on their heads thus showing off their other charms to the
whip with which she was an expert.

With a cruel grin madam placed her foot firmly on the elastic cord and
pressed the remote once again. In his agony the video slave struggled to
crawl forward, a task made even more difficult by the other restraints on
his body. He only made it half way before he was stopped by the increased
pulling of his testicles caused by madam’s foot on the cord. He started to
sweat. The shocks in his rectum would not only continue, but also become
stronger the longer he took to reach the switch by the video. He strained
forward pushed on by the electric shocks, only to be overcome by the feeling
that his very tender balls would be ripped from his body. Finally, with the
shocks almost strong enough to have him curling into a foetal position madam
released the cord from under her feet allowing some respite to his
testicles, and he shot forward, quickly changed the video and pressed the
switch. Exhausted he slowly backed his way up to the sofa once again
wondering if one day madam really would carry out her threat to rip his
balls from his body with her bare hands. He was sure that if she wished to
do so, she was quite capable of it.

It is a well known engineering principle that the more simple a machine,
generally the more effective it is. Torture implements are certainly no
different and nothing could be more simple that the one seen on the last
video. Known either as the wooden horse, or simply the plank, this
particular one was a one inch wide by four inch deep piece of wood, shaped
to an inverted V at the top. It was fixed at one end to a bracket on the
wall, while a vertical leg supported it at the other end. Balanced on top of
this sharpened ridge of wood was a young woman of about thirty years of age.
The lips of her vagina parted over the side of the plank and it could be
seen that she was pressed tightly down just by her own body weight. Her legs
were desperately reaching for the floor to relieve the agonising pressure on
that very tender part of her body, but the best she could do was to slightly
flatten her toes as she pressed down. Although her arms were roped above her
head in such a way that she could pull herself upwards, she had already been
riding the wooden horse for several hours and had no strength left even with
the intense pain to goad her on. The camera panned in for a close up showing
her swollen tender cunt, then cut around to her rear to show that her anus
had faired no better as she was now restricted to rocking either forward or
backwards to ease the pressure first on one hole then the next. There was no
doubt that madam’s guest would enjoy raping both those holes later in the
day, and would be rewarded by plenty of screaming despite his small member.

Having viewed some of her latest videos, madam needed some more physical
relief, and pressing another button on her remote had a young girl crawling
towards her as rapidly as she could to bury her face between madam’s thighs.
Unlike a majority of her acquisitions this was not one of those pampered
Americans, but a local girl sold to her by her parents who probably used the
money to buy a goat, which was much more useful to them. The girl had learnt
both quickly and well, needing little in the way of pain to perform her
duties to madam’s satisfaction. Not that she escaped completely of course.
Madam’s sharp heels dug into the girl’s back as her tongue worked on all of
madam’s sensitive places, now twirling and pushing into her anus before
moving back to the wet folds of madam’s labia. The heels digging painfully
into the girl’s small breasts indicated her mouth should now concentrate on
madam’s clitoris and she was soon rewarded with a loud moan and a deluge of
juices which she lapped up greedily.

Yes madam needed new flesh. Breaking the new ones was where she really had
her fun. Watching them fight her until they finally realised there would
never be any hope of escape, that was where the real challenge lay, and
although her slaves could still be made to scream long and loud after they
submitted to her completely, it was not quite the same somehow. She picked
up her satellite phone and punched in the number that would put her in touch
with the American end of her operation. Very shortly some unfortunate victim
’s life was going to change forever.

----------------------------------

Comments most welcome directly by email. This is a story I started because
of a request by someone to help them write one. Unfortunately I had little
actual input from them and then nothing, so the work is really all mine.
Should I continue? It's the first story I've posted so constructive
criticism would be welcome.





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