tagBDSMMissy Likes It Ch. 05

Missy Likes It Ch. 05


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I stayed in my workroom until just before midnight, but I didn't get anything done. I was too distracted by the video from the barn. I kept checking to see that Missy was all right. I knew that she wasn't truly "all right," but I had to be sure that at least she wasn't destroying herself.

I walked back down to the barn in time to watch Missy as the clock struck twelve. She was covered in sweat and wailing continuously even before the chimes began. She yelped with each bing of the chime and screamed loudly with each of the twelve strikes of the clock. I shouldn't have let her talk me into allowing her to stay on the pendulum.

As soon as the clock finished striking twelve, I flipped the switch to shut down the pendulum. It normally takes a few moments to come to rest, but I slowed it with my hands so that it stopped in just a few swings. I removed the butterfly clips from Missy's nipples and she sucked in air between her teeth as the new pain hit her.

I released her hands from the wrist cuffs and she immediately began massaging her breasts to relieve the sting of restored circulation. I released the straps holding her thighs in the leg holders and removed the leg cuffs from her ankles. It had taken all my strength, with her helping, to raise her up so that she could impale herself on the dildos which stuck up from the pendulum's rail. I wasn't sure I could remove her in her current state.

I straddled the rail and stood close behind her. Grasping her by the waist, I lifted up and heard her moan as first the anal plug and then the pussy dildo came out of her. I pulled her back into my arms and lifted her over the rail. I was about to pick her up and carry her back up to the house when she said, "No, no, no, not yet."

She was almost dead weight in my arms. She turned her head to look at me and said, "Fuck me. Fuck me now. Lay me over this thing and fuck me in the ass. I need to complete this. Sharon has to know I completed this."

She squirmed away from my arms and pulled herself over the pendulum rail so that her hands and feet were on the ground with her ass held high by where her pubic bone rested on the rounded steel bar. Her body was glistening with sweat; her pussy was sopping wet from hours of stimulation and orgasm; and her asshole was open slightly from the prolonged penetration of the butt plug. I took a deep breath. If there was ever an "I'm going to hate myself in the morning" moment, this was it.

After so carefully restraining myself for so long, how could I take advantage of her now? She was a physical and emotional wreck.

But her body was reeking of pheromones... and her ass was gaping slightly above her dripping cunt... and she was pleading desperately, "Please! Please! Do it! Now! Fuck me in the ass!"

My mind said I shouldn't, but there are times when your body just acts on its own - especially when your prick is starting to do the thinking for you. Ignoring the warnings in my head, I dropped my pants and leaned against her. I slid easily in and she moaned, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

I pumped into her for several minutes. She was writhing and moaning beneath me. Suddenly her ass clamped tight on my prick and I spurted. She arched her back and wrapped her legs around my thighs. Her upper body raised up above the level of the rail on which she rested. Every muscle in her body was flexed tight as she quivered and vibrated and wailed through a tremendous final orgasm. Then she relaxed completely and fell limp across the metal rail.

"Are you all right?" I asked. That question after sex was a first for me.

"Just take me up to the house and put me to bed," she answered in a horse whisper. "I will tell you everything in the morning."

I carried her to the house and tucked her into my bed. It wasn't that I was lusting after her body, I was worried and wanted her close until she was truly awake the next morning. I left the bed only to make one quick telephone call and once to reset the alarm to the front door. I think I finally fell asleep around four in the morning.

I woke suddenly with sunlight streaming in my eyes. The bed was empty except for me. I quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and an old shirt and almost ran downstairs, fearing the worst. Missy was standing in the kitchen in another of my old shirts. She was cooking steak and eggs.

"Heard you get out of bed," she said with a rather flat, emotionless voice. "Coffee's in your cup. This will be ready in just a moment."

There were a million things I wanted to ask her, but we ate in silence. After we were both finished and had sat for several minutes sipping our coffee, she said, "I guess its time," and got up and walked into the living room.

There was a leather covered wooden box on the coffee table about the size of the one on the shelf by the fireplace that held my antique Colt Peacemaker. The leather was a very light shade of tan and there was a large, emerald green dragon with bright yellow and orange flames coming from its mouth imprinted in some fashion on the leather on the top.

Missy slowly opened the case. The inside was trimmed out in black satin and held a single DVD style disk. "Put it in the machine," she said in a voice husky with emotion.

I did. The video started by itself. It began with a panorama of a desolate dessert area. There was nothing visible but sand, sand, and more sand. Then a nude young woman, perhaps four or five years older than Missy stepped into the picture. "Hello, my little naked slave girl," she said. There was a lopsided grin on her face.

"That's Sharon," Missy sobbed quietly.

The video panned away from Sharon to four heavily bearded men in Arab dessert clothing, and then moved in for a closeup of four large wooden stakes driven into the sand. Leather thongs were wound tightly around the stakes with two or three feet of leather lying on the ground.

Sharon walked into the middle of the stakes. "This isn't a challenge, Missy. There is no way you can top this anyway. Someday, your time might come to do something like this. It looks crazy, but there are reasons, and I want it that way."

A voice from off camera said something I couldn't quite hear and Sharon nodded her head. The four bearded men rushed back into the scene and grabbed her by the arms and legs. In one swift motion they lifted her up and laid her on her back on the ground with her arms and legs tied tightly by the leather thongs. Then they stepped away.

"You don't need to see this part," said Missy quietly and clicked the remote.

The scene changed twice and then stopped to show Sharon's body lying on a tall funeral pyre. Timbers the size of 4X4's had been stacked up crossways to form a coffin-sized box about six feet high. Four timbers stacked the long way at the top formed a shelf on which the body lay. There were smaller pieces of wood and other material piled in the center of the box. An arm belonging to someone outside the image boundary poured something over the body and the wood. A moment later a torch was touched to the base of the box.

Everything erupted in flame. The video at this point must have been time-lapse edited because in just a few moments there was nothing on the ground but a pile of ash. It ended with the four men raking sand over the ashes so that there was nothing left to see but the barren landscape.

"She trusted them." Missy yelled. "I don't care if she wanted it, they should have protected her. Her mother and her sister and her brother were there. You can see them in the video. How can I trust them knowing that they did this to her!?"

"Any chance the video is faked?" I asked.

Missy looked up at me with vacant eyes and said in a flat, emotionless tone, "I've watched it - all of it - many times. The video is not a fake."

There is very little one can say in a time like that, but for once I think my instincts had been right. "Missy," I said. "There is someone who wants to talk to you."

I gave a short whistle and Chrissy walked down from upstairs.

"You!" Missy screamed. "I don't want to hear from you. You did this! You betrayed her!"

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way," began Chrissy. "I was supposed to bring the box to you and explain everything before you saw it. Darren, however, reported everything - except his involvement - to the military police and Mom and I were arrested."

Chrissy came and stood in front of Missy. "We got word to our Arab friends to get the video out of the country and back here, but with the language barrier and having to go though intermediaries they misunderstood where it was supposed to be shipped. It should have gone to Mom's office, but they sent it directly to you instead because they knew that it was intended eventually for you."

Missy sat in stony silence.

"How did you get out of custody?" I asked - mainly to give Missy a chance to digest what she had just heard.

"A lack of evidence and an abundance of money will work wonders in any country," replied Chrissy with a wry smile. "But by the time we got back, Missy already had the video and had disappeared. When you called Mom last night and reported what was going on, I knew I had to come and explain."

"Explain what!?" Missy screamed, "You killed her! You let them do it! You and your mom and Darren let her die! How do you explain that!?"

"It's what she wanted, Missy. It was exactly what she wanted. She was very explicit about exactly how everything was to happen, even to the funeral pyre and the ashes buried beneath the sand."

Missy broke down in heavy sobs.

Chrissy sat down next to her and put her hands on her shoulders. "Sharon was dying, Missy. She had a rare form of cancer that invades the brain and spinal column with thousands of very tiny tumors. There is no way to treat it. It is excruciatingly painful and drugs won't help. But the worst part is that it takes away your mind long before your body dies a very slow, very painful death."

"Sharon decided that if fate had given her a early death, she was going out on her terms. She researched things thoroughly and decided that when the time was right she would make use of a nomadic Arab tribe we sometimes do business with. She said that she would either experience the greatest orgasm in history or would finally experience pain as pain. So we made some arrangements and traveled to a remote location in the middle of their territory. They were very good at their craft. Sharon got everything that she wanted."

Chrissy swallowed hard several times and then took a deep breath and continued. "She died saying, 'Yes, yes,' so I guess she got her wish for the history books. From the very beginning, she wanted you to know what she did and why. That's why she had us make the video. I'm sorry this worked out this way and caused you so much pain when you saw it."

"That wasn't the problem," said Missy softly. Chrissy opened her mouth as if to say something, but instead remained silent.

For several minutes, Missy stared at Chrissy with what could only be described as a look of terror in her eyes. "I didn't feel pain when I saw it. I know I should have. I should have, but I didn't. As I watched that video, I creamed myself. I got off on it! I imagined it was me tied to the stakes in the sand."

Missy shook with sobs as she blubbered, "And I knew that you wouldn't stop me."

Suddenly Missy's remarks about not wanting to die but to just find pleasure in her pain made sense. She knew that her addiction had no bounds. Without a Master she could trust to control her, she would eventually be in Sharon's place."

"Don't worry, Missy." Chrissy said in a very soothing voice. "If the time should ever come where you are in the same situation as Sharon, we will look up our Arab friends. Until then I will protect you and control you. I will give you pain when you need it and pleasure when you deserve it and you will serve me and give me pleasure in return. Next summer at camp we will even make it official with a collaring ceremony. Remember, in the Curie Clan, gender is irrelevant, so we will be fully accepted as bonded Mistress and slave. If you want, we can even make it legal and go to one of the states that allow same gender marriages."

Missy was crying even more heavily now. Her face was buried on Chrissy's shoulder. Chrissy was also weeping softly. I walked silently into the kitchen to leave them alone together.

It was nearly an hour later when Chrissy came into the kitchen. "Missy is upstairs packing. I will take her home with me. I think she will be OK now. Thank you for coming to her rescue in her time of need. I am sure that Mom will be appropriately appreciative sometime in the near future."

"Tell her thanks for me in advance." I replied, and Chrissy pulled something out of her purse and handed it to me. It was a pre-paid burner phone. "Tell her yourself. Mom will be calling in a little while. She has some special equipment that she would like to order."

About then Missy came down from upstairs with her bags. She came over to me and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "You gave me what I needed and helped me not go insane. I don't know how you found Chrissy and got her here, but you saved my sanity... and my life. Thank you."

Another peck on the cheek and she and Chrissy walked out the door. As I stood out front watching them drive away, the cell phone in my pocket began to ring.

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by Anonymous

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by Anonymous03/13/14

Great story...

but I didn't care for the ending, so gave this chapter a 3.

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by Anonymous06/03/13

5 Stars!!

I loved this series and I wish there was more!

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by Anonymous05/15/13

Thanks for a great story. It explains a lot abour S/M that has, otherwise, been murky.

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by wolfgirlbites04/28/13


That was an incredible story from start to finish. Thank you for the ride.

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