From sd@magenta.com Sat Mar 29 11:30:51 1997
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From: "Steven S. Davis" <sd@magenta.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Subject: "Options" (mf, NC, torture, femdom)
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Date: 29 Mar 1997 16:30:51 GMT
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WARNING:  The following is a story of erotic horror.  It is
nonconsensual, and as such has nothing in common with the
practices of the BDSM community.  It probably isn't even
representive of the fantasies of very many people in the
community.  And I can't even claim it to be an exploration of
evil, injustice, betrayal, and helplessness in the face of a
malign fate, as I intend some of my other work to be (in addition
to something to inspire lust and/or fear), this is a fantasy
purely..eh, solely intended to inspire lust and/or fear).

Anyway, it involves unwilling abduction and nonconsensual torture,
and unless you wish to read of such things, read no further.






I really mean that.







Trust me, it's really rough.










Still here ?  Well, you were warned.




Last chance to press "n", or the appropriate key for your system.





Options
by
SD


I'm strapped naked to a bench in a stone cell.  I don't know where I am,
why I'm there, or how long I've been there.  The cell is totally dark, and
I've drifted off to sleep when the clanging of the heavy steel door opening
awakens me.  The lights come on, unbearably bright for my eyes, and I can
see nothing.  I hear some clicks on the stone floor and hear a chair creak
as someone sits down.

"Light a bit much for your eyes ?  I'll wait.  I want you to see this",
a woman's voice says.  Slowly my eyes adjust, and I see a woman in an
elegant lavender suit, silk blouse, dark stockings, and black pumps with
high stilletto heels, with a small black purse, sitting with her legs
crossed and observing me carefully.  She looks like she just got back from
the office, or maybe is taking a midday break.  As she sees that I can see
her she smiles and gets up, pulling the chair over to where I am lying, and
sitting down again.

"You will not question, demand, request, plead, protest, or otherwise
attempt to communicate", she tells me as she extracts a small bottle from
her purse, and squirts a little on my left foot, and I scream as the acid
burns into the flesh, "or the next time you feel this it will be on your
eyes".  She goes back to the desk and returns with something that looks
a bit like a wrench.  "I rather like the expressions of pain, but I don't
want your screams disturbing my other guests, so we need to tone you down
a bit, she says as she pushes one end of the device, the end with two sharp
forks, into my chin, and then pushes the end with a blunt metal rectangle
into my sternum.  "That will muffle you a little", she says. She gets up
again, and carefully removes and neatly hangs up her jacket, blouse, skirt,
and slip, and takes off her bra and panties and places them on a desk.  She
then walks back to me in her garter belt, stockings, and pumps, and begins
alternately running her fingers softly over my flesh, and digging her nails
into my flesh.  The alternation of pleasure and pain gets me aroused, and
as my penis begin to come erect she keeps one hand playing with my left
nipple, finding it very amusing to note the way my penis responds to her
touch, letting it droop a little, then stroking my nipple again to make it
pump up again, then, becoming bored with this game, she puts her index
finger at the base of the underside of my penis, and then she slowly raises
her finger along its length, giggling a bit as it elongates and hardens in
response to her touch.

"You men have *such* control over your bodies", she says, laughingly.
She then takes a cord from her purse and ties my penis tightly, first at
the base, then just below the head.  She slaps it a few times, then saunters
over to the desk, slowly, arrogantly, her hips swinging provocatively as she
walks, and takes something from a drawer, and as she saunters back, smiling
broadly, I can see she has a vise in her hand.  When she reaches me, she
graps my scrotum and feels about for a testicle, and getting a grip on one,
puts the vise on it, and tightens the vise until it has an uncomfortably
firm hold on the testicle.

"I quite enjoy crushing a man's testicle", she says.  "I know that will
make me come.  But only twice.  I'd prefer to get more orgasms than that
from you.  Under the circumstances, I think you want to give them to me.
So you're going to get the chance to please me.  But remember, if you fail
I'll still have my fun", she said, tightening the vise enough to move the
sensation from discomfort to pain.

Now she staddles the bench and stands over my face, her pussy right over my
mouth, and I stick my tongue out as far as I can with the heretic's fork in
place, and begin licking her.  After a a few moments she spreads her labia
and my tongue searches out her clit, and strokes it, and, recognizing my
limited mobility, she begins slight movements of her hips to move herself
about on the wiggling tip of my tongue.  Fortunately, she's already pretty
excited, and despite my limited repertoire, she soon becomes wet, her
moisture coating my mouth and cheeks and chin, then she rises from my face
and straddles my crotch, and slides my erect member into herself.  At first
she uses it like a dildo, holding it and pulling upwards to push it into
herself, smiling at the little gasps of pain that come from me as she pulls
at it, but then it's completely within her tight vagina and she's first
riding me, moving it in and out, then slowly moving her hips forward and
back and then side to side and then riding me again, and even with my penis
numbed by the cords tightly binding it, the sensation is wonderful, as is
the sight of her bouncing breasts and the glow of pleasure and need on her
face, but I can do nothing to relieve my own growing need, and as she
begins to orgasm, her own moans and cries echoing off the walls of the cell
as she comes, and comes again, and keeps riding and rotating, my own need
becomes intense, but I can do nothing, and she comes and comes again,
screaming now, until sheer exhaustion overtakes her and she at last slumps
forward, her shoulder driving the fork even deeper into my chin.

She lays on me for a long while with my stiff penis still within her,
pulling her legs up on top of mine, jarring the vise holding my aching
testicle as she does so, and lays with her head on my shoulder as I feel
her breath slow and her heartbeat return to normal.  A few minutes later,
she raises her head, and looks at me.  "That was fun", she says, and rises
off of me.  Mussing my hair, she says, "I think I'll keep you", and as she
loosens the vise, says "so you can keep this, for now".  She gently hefts
and squeezes my balls, then strokes my penis.  "Would you like some relief
now ?", she asks, and I whisper "Yes" as loudly as the fork permits, at
which she smiles, and raising one leg, jabs me her the ribs with her heel.
"I told you not to try to communicate", she says, then smiles again and
bends down, her breasts hanging delightfully, as she unties the cord at the
base of my penis, and strokes it some more, and now I'm absolutely ready to
explode, and she looks at me, smiling naughtily, and says "And now I just
undo this knot, and you can come.  Is that what you want ?  Well ?  It
would be only fair, wouldn't it ?", she says.  I say nothing, and she says,
"Well, if you don't want it", and starts to walk away, at which I gasp out
"please", and she turns and comes back and kicks my knee and says "I *told*
you not to talk", then takes my penis and fondles it some more, and moves
her fingers to the knot and says, "Well, it is only fair, and it can't do
me any harm to let you have your release".  Then she looks at me and smiles
and says "But it doesn't do me *good*, either, and I don't give a damn what
you want or need", and releases my penis and slaps it a few times, then
puts her clothes back on, slowly, making sure that I see all that there is
to see, and starts to leave, but then comes back to me and I have a brief
moment of hope that perhaps I'll get the release I so need, but instead she
reties the cord at the base of my penis, saying "You may start to weaken by
tomorrow, and I don't want to have to waste any time restoring your
erection".  Then she walks away again, and I watch her back as she walks
away, praying that she'll come back and loosen these cords, and as she
reaches the door, then turns, my heart leaps, but she just says "See you
tomorrow; try to make yourself available", and laughs as she turns out the
lights, and pulls the door shut behind her, and the lock turns, loudly, as
she leaves me bound in the dark with my hard, throbbing penis; my aching,
desperate need; and my bleak future.


I lay bound in the dark for what seems like eternity.  Eventually, my
sexual need subsides, but it's replaced by a need to urinate that I'm
also unable to satisfy.  At times I'm grateful that I've gone so long
with only my captor's pussy juices for moisture.  When I have the energy
I struggle with the straps, but they haven't given an inch and all I've
accomplished is to add lacerated wrists and ankles to my list of injuries.
The bleeding ankles, wrists, and chin don't worry me nearly as much as the
acid burn on my foot and my now numb penis, and as I wonder how long it
can be bound so tightly before the tissue dies, I realize that my captor
may only plan to let me live for a short time.  She'll probably find my
death from gangrene of the penis most amusing.

I keep imagining that I hear a key in the lock of the door, but it never
opens.  I've lost track of how long I've been here, or how long it's been
since the visit.  It seems so long, I'd be stunned to find that I've only
lain here 28 hours.

Now I definitely do hear the lock turning, and the door opens.  The lights
come on, even more blinding now than they were before, and I shut my eyes
tightly against the light.  I hear the slow approach of a person in high
heels, and hear *her* voice say, "Now we can't have this, can we ?", and
hear her scamper to the desk and back, then feel my left eyelid being pulled
back and clamped open, and then my right.  The blinding bright light surges
into my eyes.  I can't believe how much light can hurt.  My eyes fill
with tears, which my captor quickly dries with a what feels like a
handkerchief, keeping my eyes exposed to the light.  "I do love to see a
man cry", she says.

When my eyes get sufficiently adjusted to the light, I see that my captor
is more informal today, jeans, a tight black knit top, and black high
heels.  "You don't smell very nice today", she says, and after taking off
all her clothes she runs some water from a sink in the corner into a
bucket, adds some soap, peroxide and a little bleach, and approaches me
with the bucket and a stiff brush, and proceeds to dip the brush into the
bucket and scrub my bare flesh, hard and quickly.  It feels like she's
scraping off a layer of skin, though she draws no blood, and the bleach
on my raw skin and dribbling into my lacerations burns.  When she gets to
my feet, she observes how much I squirm as the brush scrapes across
the soles of my bare feet, and she goes over them again and again until
they do begin to bleed.

"And, of course, we mustn't forget your most important part", she says as
she starts brushing my penis and scrotum.  "Good to see I don't have to
worry about your eyes drying out just yet", she says, laughing, as she
observes tears coming to my eyes as she moves the stiff brush over the head
of my penis, a process she continues for quite some time, her eyes locked
on mine as my tears flow.

"I think that will do, she says, and dumps the bucket and comes back with
a hose with which she squirts me with very hot water to clear away the
soap and chemicals.  When she gets to my head, which she hadn't used the
brush on, she jams a cloth into my mouth before squirting my face and hair,
and when she's done she dries my face and hair with a towel, and when she
pulls the cloth from my mouth, not a drop of moisture has reached it, or
will.  She then towels off the rest of my body, and between towelings she
strokes and pinches and claws my now extremely sensitive skin.  She's very
skilled, and though the memory of the last session is all too clear, I
find myself aroused by her ministrations.  Though the most obvious physical
manifestion of arousal is unaffected, she clearly knows the effect she's
having.  "Did you think yesterday was bad, dear ?  I'm going to make
you suffer much more today.  Much, much more".

At this she takes a pair of pliers and forces them into my mouth and pulls
my tongue out as far as it will come, then takes two long pins and pierces
my tongue with each, then slides caps over the exposed ends of the pins,
and squeezes the caps with the plier, so that the ends of the pins are now
locked into smooth caps with large round ends, that remove any chance that
the pins might cut anyone else, or that they might come out of my tongue,
which I now cannot pull back into my mouth.  The salty blood is dripping
back into my mouth, and laying on my back I have to swallow it or choke.

Now she takes a cord, and grabs my balls and ties them very tightly, then
says "I bet you need to piss real bad, and I want you thinking about just
one use for Willy" while she unties the cord beneath the head of my cock.
She then takes a catheter tube and pushes it, not at all gently, into my
urethra. "All that squirming is just going to make it hurt more, so please
do squirm", she says.  After she has the catheter well into my penis, she
unties the cord at it's base, and the sudden resumption of blood flow
brings an unbearable wave of pain.  She stops for a moment to unjoy my
discomfort, and when she notices it subsiding, she says "Does he hurt ?
Let me make it better", and takes it in her hand and begins jerking me off,
which between the tingling of the new blood flow and the tenderness of my
skin after it's encounter with the brush, does *not* make it any better.
She then pushes the catheter further until it's in my bladder, puts the
other end in a bottle, and unlocks the catheter tube, then, to hurry things
along, puts her foot on my abdomen, over my bladder, and presses down,
hard.  When the flow stops, she says, "This will hurt, I hope", and yanks
the tube out. "Oh, dear, it did hurt, didn't it ?  But we do need to keep
those eyes moist, don't we ?".  Sliding one end of the catheter tube deep
into my mouth, she brings a stand alongside my head, hooks the other end
of the tube to a large funnel hanging from the stand, and empties half
the bottle of urine into it.  "You must be thirsty.  Would you like
something to drink ?  I'm sure you would.  Don't be shy, tell me want you
want", she coos at me, but since I see the bottle of acid in her hand, I
make no attempt to respond.  "Well, you must be thirsty, so I'm going to
let you drink this, unless you ask me not to ?  Anything to say ?  No ?
OK, dear", she says, then unlocks the tube and lets the urine flow through
it until it empties into my mouth, and I gag, and try to shake my head
and spit out the piss, but with my tongue fastened as it is I can't spit
it out, and she seizes my hair to try to keep my head facing upwards so I
can't let it run out the side of my mouth, laughing "Hold still, dear, you
don't want to waste any" as she twists and tugs at it, and while some runs
out the side, most doesn't, and the only way I can keep breathing is to
swallow, and I swallow many times before the funnel is empty.  "Would you
like the rest now ?  Still nothing to say ?  I think we'll save this for
later", she tells me as I lay there gagging, "Oh, dear, I wouldn't throw
up if I were you, unless you want to choke to death on your own vomit".

I'd probably be better off if I did, but I'm not brave enough to end it
like that, and I fight back the waves of nausea, and eventually the need
to vomit subsides.  "So you're going to stay with me a little longer,"
she says while she strokes my penis, keeping it hard.  "Good.  There's so
much more pain I want to give you before you die.  But right now I want you
to give me some pleasure".   She ties my penis again, tightly, this time
covering the whole shaft of my penis with a smooth cord, then running her
fingers over it.  "This texture is so interesting, don't you think ?"  It's
wasn't doing much for me.  "I suppose we can do without these", she said
as she removed the clamps from my eyelids.  "I don't want you blind just
yet, and I don't want to be distracted by the need to keep your eyes
watered".

"You think I made you hot yesterday ?", she asked.  "Poor thing, you wanted
it so bad and couldn't do anything about it.  You suffered so much.  And
today, it's going to be worse", she says, running her fingers and nails
over my body much as she did before, with similar results, but then she
leans down and begins kissing and licking and biting me, her lips and tongue
and teeth working their way down from my neck, across my chest and stomach
and ending at with the exposed head of my penis, which she alternately
teased by running the tip of her marvelously skilled tongue tongue over it,
then nippling on it and scraping her teeth across the already sore flesh,
all while gently manipulating my balls, then she slid my penis into her
vagina, which was fortunately quite wet, and humped me for some time,
giving me a nice view of her bouncing breasts, then learned forward to
kiss, lick, suck, and nipple on my nipples while she slowly moved her hips
from side to side.  Though it was clear from her flushed, glowing face
that she was enjoying herself, this was not the passionate abandon of
yesterday, when she was primarily seeking her own release,  Today she was
holding back, seeing how long she could prolong the act, how terrible she
could make my need.  I would have come already were I able, but there was
nothing I could do as she drove me more and more mad with desire and my
heart bounded and my blood pressure rose and I could hear each pulse
echo in my ears and somewhere far away I could hear my own moans and
unintelligible pleas and my last thought before any semblence of coherence
faded was that she might well kill me like this, and after that I no longer
retained any real awareness of what was happening, just waves of sensation
washing over me.

So disconnected did I become that I have no idea when she got off me, but
at some point I realized that she was sitting next to me intently watching
me squirm and listening to my moans and pleas with a wicked grin and a
demonic glare.  A little later the thought broke through that I might have
earned a hydrochloric eyebath with my moans and pleas, but there was
nothing I could do about that now, though as I regained some control I
suppressed the audibilizations.  When I had enough control to still
everything but my still madly pounding heart, she lost interest in watching
me any longer, and got up to put her clothes on.  She was quite right,
she was leaving me in even worse condition than she had left me last time.

"You were a very bad boy, making all those silly noises.  I'd punish you
for that, but I don't want anything to distract you thinking about how
badly you need to come.  But tomorrow, I'm going to have to punish you
quite severely.  If you're a real man I'll find you choked to death on your
own vomit tomorrow, if not, I'll have to assume you want to be tortured,
and you will be.  You won't be much good to me after that, so you'll die
tomorrow, but since you find death so frightening, I'll be merciful, and I
won't kill you before you want to die.  Actually, I imagine it will occur
long after you wish you were dead".  After this announcement, she cut off
the lights, and closed the door and left me deal with my lust and to
contemplate my options.

END


************************************************************************
Steven S. Davis                                           sd@magenta.com 
Homepage, vanilla:    http://links.magenta.com/~sd
Homepage, pistachio:  http://links.magenta.com/lmnop/users/sd.html

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