BUNSNUB: Another Love Story Ch. 15

Chapter Fifteen: Screech

Today I found a strange woman waiting along with the secretary. At least I thought it was a woman and under the circumstances I imagined little else. She was a rough looking individual with almost no physique, no tits or ass, all legs, arms and a head, the thinnest creature I had ever seen. She had a short bob of black hair, more black then the secretary's. The secretary's black hair reflected both light and life, because it was both vibrant and vital. This woman's hair absorbed the light from everything, sucked it up in long waves that raced before my eyes on a journey to oblivion. Where they disappeared to was beyond me, another world altogether, another dimension. She had almost no lips, but they were painted matte black. She stared at me through large piercing orbs that provided me the illusion of staring back through holes into a black unlit area. In sharp contrast, she had a pale, washed out, unpainted, almost snow-white complexion. She wore a skin-tight black leotard style body suit, that left nothing to an imagination I didn't need with a being so wiry, and I don't mean thin. She was fitted into a pair of contoured chrome-silver boots. They were knee high and had medium heels. She wore a pair of elbow length gloves that matched the boots. The gloves and boots were virtually mirrors that reflected everything, while sparkling and gleaning from what ever light source. What a paradoxical being. She absorbed and reflected light in magnitudes that were almost painful to those around her.

No words were exchanged, both women simply watched me as I nervously disrobed and hung my clothes on the tree. Soon I was naked as if for the very first time in my life, more nervous than on my first day of work, and I turned to face them. I stood with my eyes lowered, unable to look at either of them while awaiting permission to move. There seemed to be some murmuring between the ladies, maybe about my excitement, which was always so damn evident.

Today the secretary was dressed in a sharp three piece gabardine suit the color of white sand, over a dark blue blouse that seemed uncharacteristically rumpled. The blouse was opened enough to reveal her small cleavage. I could tell that she was without bra and surprised to see a pretty blue one crumpled on the seat of her chair. Both ladies stood and came around the desk, moving to another opened carton. I stopped my knees from knocking sometime after the fiftieth bounce and stood trembling. It was the stranger who took over. She reached into the carton and pulled out a silver metal band.

"Give me your wrist male," she ordered in a high pitched screech that made me grind my teeth. I noticed too that it bothered the secretary. I did as instructed and stood waiting as she placed the band around my left wrist. She simply bent the metal strip around my wrist and brought the two ends together. Like magic it formed into a perfect band.

I couldn't turn my wrist in it, yet it wasn't cumbersome and didn't bother. She reached into the carton for another band and I obediently had my right wrist waiting. She then slipped one around my neck, which was most ominous, because I could feel the metal so well, or at least I thought so. I swore it adhered to my skin like the glued area of a bandage. It was two inches wide and moved with my every pulse.

The secretary had a smile on her face when the strange lady's hand emerged with a silver fan collar, and I frowned. I sensed a certain respect being shown this strange lady by the secretary, but I couldn't understand it. I think both the secretary and I were happy that the lady said nothing while placing the collar around my neck. It fit around my throat just above my new collar, leaving my entire neck covered. It had a one foot radius and a reflective surface so intense I almost couldn't see through the light. My head was a glowing lamp bulb and once secure, the women stepped back to survey their accomplishment.

They stood side by side looking me over. I had the edge of my fan conveniently lowered and could see them appraising me. The secretary seemed somewhat frightened of this woman, I could tell by the way her eyes kept stealing glances and then looking away quickly. She seemed unusually nervous and her old spark was not there. Well maybe the spark was there, but it was being kept under control for some reason. Suddenly the stranger spoke and I winced to the screeching sounds, as did the secretary.

"You will keep your feet six inches apart on the floor," she squealed in a frightening voice that caused me to spring into position. "I'm here to prepare you for a new trainer. Ms. Handlesmen has recommended you for advanced training. From the little I've seen so far, I can understand why. Once you begin this phase of your training there can be no turning back, you will belong to Pi Loda Cum forever and Ms. Handlesmen of course. Therefore I am obliged, under universal law, to be sure you wish to belong to the sorority, and that you wish to continue with your training. Remember there will be no turning back." The secretary stepped up to me with a clip board, on which forms rested. She handed me a pen and held the board so I could sign. There were almost a dozen legal documents and I signed each and every one without flinching, or being able to see them.

'Belong to Ms. Handlesmen? Hell yes! Was I crazy or what, there was no one I'd rather belong to' I screamed to myself over and over again. The stranger made my commitment sound more permanent then marriage, God, if that could only be true.

"Turn around," the stranger screeched. I obeyed, not wanting to hear her utter another sound. She used yet another metal band to cinch my elbows together, after connecting my wrist bands.

"Yes, ma'am," I stammered for some reason, failing to be as bold and sure as intended. The stranger circled me slowly, while screeching.

"Ms. Handlesmen told you that you wouldn't be going home for awhile?" I shook my head in accent. "Good, then there's no reason not to begin." She came to stand before me, with a smaller version of the other bands I already wore. "Eyes front," she screeched.

I stood in a familiar stance, at attention, while she caught my balls in the shiny band. She then cinched it tight until I cried out in alarm and my eyes bulged from their sockets. It formed to my organs girth and locked in place. Then she picked up a short chain leash and fastened its end to an eye of the small band, keeping the other end looped in her hand.

Fortunately nothing more was said, the lady simply headed to the door hauling me along behind her. I could feel my organ lift, stretch and bob in the air. The metal strap was so tight my balls felt swollen to twice their normal size. I could picture the leash and the way it pulled on me, the way it strained and altered my shape. She pulled me along without saying a word and for some uncanny reason the corridor was unusually empty, void of my regular crowd. Missing, were my female admirers, the gawkers, hecklers and grabbers; but they were there. I saw them in offices, through slightly opened doors. The usually rambunctious ladies were there, but they were unusually subdued. I brushed it off as something I yet didn't understand about this strange company.

Where was Ms. Handlesmen, my cruel lover, why wasn't she here this morning to see me off? Would I see her again before the day was up? Did that matter, now that I was going to belong to her? Where was I being taken, what would happen to me and what business was that of mine? And who the hell cared as long as I belonged to Ms. Handlesmen. Why was it so quiet, where were the snickers, slurs and vulgar comments? Ms. Handlesmen was all that mattered. We were rapidly approaching a waiting elevator, its doors open. It was an odd elevator located at the very end of the corridor, a single elevator which I'd never noticed before. I was ushered into a bright cube of polished metal, the same metal as my bands and my guide's accouterments. There were no buttons or lights and when the door closed, they disappeared without leaving a seam. I guessed we were moving but I couldn't tell in what direction.

We could have been traveling up, down, or in any number of directions for all I could tell. I was mesmerized by the metal, how strange it felt to my feet. It was almost as if it wasn't really there and when I closed my eyes, I could imagine I was floating, standing in mid air. When we reached our destination, I was led from the elevator and up to a curious piece of furniture. I looked up at an orb.

It was a metal sphere about two feet in diameter. It was the same metal as everything else, except for the strange lady and me. It was head high and connected to a metal pole that jutted out a foot and elbowed down, to the floor. The pole was connected to a metal tile situated near the floor. The only reason I could see the tile was because it was above the floor, but it was very thin and I couldn't say what it rested upon. Maybe it had legs, rollers, or nothing at all? I'm not implying that this piece of furniture was constructed of several individual parts welded together; to the contrary, it was a single solid piece, cast from a mold, maybe.

As the strange lady led me to stand on the metal tile, the side of orb facing me opened and I saw it was hollow. She removed my fan collar and I slid my neck through a slot until I reached the center, then the sphere closed and the slot disappeared, leaving my neck in another tight collar of metal. I was in darkness unlike any I'd ever experienced, with my head incapable of turning. Never had I been in such blackness, engulfed by a void so deep, so loud, blinding and mind numbing, my head separated from my body and tumbled into its vastness.

That short lived journey was interrupted by the realization of becoming cold. I felt my ankles and feet fastened in place and my knees banded together about the time I began shivering. I felt the sphere moving up, stretching me ever so slowly. At first it felt good, like a well-needed exercise. But in this uncomfortable position, with my hands behind my back, my elbows and knees both cinched together and the temperature now near freezing, it became painful. Soon I was stretched as tight as a violin string, a frazzled wire, awaiting bow and finger.

Next the entire orb lit up like a movie screen and I found a holographic image of some kind projected before me. I found it impossible for my eyes to escape it, as it permeated my brain. The image was of me, or at least my body. There I was, bound, standing with my hard-on exposed and my head in the sphere. I was in a very strange room made entirely of metal, the same shiny metal. The room seemed to be a cube and I noticed a shelf, or work table along the far wall. It was piled with instruments and scientific gadgets all constructed of the same metal. I couldn't understand how it was I saw them, how I could discern between instruments, when they were all of the same silvery, reflective metal.

I saw no windows or doors of any type. I saw no conventional lighting, yet the room was extremely well lit. The walls, ceiling and floor all seemed to glow with varying intensities. The intensities shifted as the strange woman required, while she moved around me. The lighting stayed most intense wherever she looked or worked, yet the walls, ceiling and floor stayed smooth and clear as a mirror. I could notice the light only when not looking at the metal directly.

The holographic video, or what ever it was, suddenly zoomed in on my penis and the strange woman's ungloved hands. The women's hands were long narrow and fibrous. They had long fingers and longer nails that curled in near the tips, to form barbs. Her hands looked like the claws of an ancient flying beast.

From somewhere below, a thin metal arm appeared. Its end was a metal band, a loop and it stopped before my left testicle, Ms. Handlesmen's favorite. The woman's hands moved to fit my testicle through the loop. Her thumb of one hand and two of its bony fingers passed through the loop from her side and wrapped themselves around the testicle. I cringed and my body tensed to the pressure, as her lunch hooks dug into and snagged my sack. Then she pulled me back through the loop and the metal band contracted. It closed slowly, gathering all my thin vessels and ducts into a narrow cylindrical shape.

The camera's output, or whatever was providing me with the optics, flickered away on the rods and cones of my retinae. It took me zooming in on my testicle while circling it slowly, almost like a surveying satellite around a planet. The close-ups of my imprisoned gland, only served to multiply the distress I labored under. It was having to watch my bulging testicle constrained, that forced the connection between the neurons in my alienated brain and those in my now alienated balls. That connection fed the pain I was forbidden to avoid, yet could have otherwise eluded. I almost felt as if someone had entered my brain, to lie down beside me, and was getting comfortable. We watched a movie of torture and I was the movie. I let out a moan that almost left me deaf.

I learned quickly not to scream or utter a sound, because the sphere in which my head was confined amplified and magnified thousands of times, any and all of my articulations. Anything louder than a quiet swallow became the deafening roar of a jet engine in my face. Keeping myself from making sounds seemed an impossible task, but with this added incentive I had to try.

I was sweating because my head was kept very, very warm, as were the very bottoms of my feet. Yet I was a shivering mass of goose bumps because the air in the room was now close to zero. My entire body itched again and I would have given anything for the opportunity to scratch some tiny spot.

The neural photography zoomed in on the head of my penis, which was swollen and drooling profusely because the damn thing enjoyed all of this. Like an imp from the nether world, my penis thrived on the sadistic tendencies of the opposite sex and I could do nothing about it. I could not close Pandora's Box and I could not reseal the gates I'd foolishly unlocked, I could do nothing. The beast was forever free and the portal gates, the one's I had opened in my boyish curiosity were gone, ripped from their hinges. One of the woman's claws grabbed my pole out of the air, gnarled fingers gripping tight, nails digging into the meat of my tough organ. Her other hand held the end of a tube that began off camera and I recognized it immediately. It was relatively thin, very flexible and shiny, and she brought the end of it to my piss hole.

I turned my eyes hoping to escape into the void, but the visual impressions were in my head and like constant sound, I couldn't evade them. The camera zoomed in on the tip of the hose when the hand brought it to my piss hole and began stirring it slowly. It took me in closer as the tip began mashing, pressing and drilling into my small opening. My body tensed and yanked against its restraints and I broke down and began screaming to the pain. My shrieks became louder and louder, their volumes multiplying and echoing around and around in the sphere, increasing in some logarithmic fashion.

I hated the visual representation, the damn close-ups and slow motion instant replays, and tried hiding my eyes, but couldn't. Loud resounding screams forced me to clench my teeth and try controlling myself against the wrath of all insanity, which wasn't fair. Though I fought with all my might, I couldn't keep totally silent and succeeded in whimpering, at best. In off and on waves, I found myself surrounded by a crescendo of moans and groans blaring in cascading reverberation. Maybe the tube's insertion wasn't as painful as imagined, but having to watch it up close moved it into my gut, belly and throat, centralizing all my most frightening thoughts.

It looked as if she drove over three feet of tube into me and it certainly felt like it, but I hoped it was a lot less. Like yesterday, control of my bladder was taken from me. A finger of one hand stroked the underside of my quivering boner and my cock responded like the dog it was. It vibrated in the air, swinging hose and all, in a wanton display of male depravity. It pulsated and salivated as my bladder emptied.

The next thing my eerie antagonist did was pick at and then grab my prepuce, the loose fold of skin hanging from the neck of my penis. It's that hunk of epidermis, that wad of foreskin remaining after circumcision. She grabbed it between the nails of her thumb and index finger and played with it, pulled on it and stretched it tight. My boner danced in the air, supporting and encouraging her activities. Her other hand returned with what appeared to be a marlin spike, made of the same shiny metal as everything else in this place. It had a needle's point and thickened to the size of a wrist.

She brought the finely honed point of the spike to my stretched, prepared prepuce and moved it about, hunting for a spot. I could see myself shivering before the camera zoomed in on her find, as if I wanted to see this. It zoomed in on the instrument's point as it pressed into my skin, and I could feel it only to well. Now I saw both sides of my foreskin and watched it surrender to the marlin spikes metal nib. I watched my skin become a transparent point of stretched flesh just before ripping asunder and tearing to the spikes slow run.

I closed my eyes yet watched it all, while struggling not to scream or gasp aloud. In a state of uncontrollable shivering, I watched the woman's hand drive the point of the spike through my skin until satisfied. I broke down and cried again, while watching and feeling the spike tear through me, enlarging the hole as it traveled. Blood coated the tip of the spike and a couple of drops fell from the picture, but there was very little. She stopped when the spike was a couple of inches deep and then she spun it, twirled it in her fingers and the hole. I was deaf from the reverberating screams and screaming because of the pain caused by the screaming. She pulled the marlin spike free and I was no less relieved.

The hands stretched my foreskin apart so I could see the extent of the damage. It was a giant hole, still bloody and not something I wished to see. One hand disappeared and returned with a large gold ring. It was thick and had a thin gap through which my skin was worked. Once the ring was threaded through the hole she brought the ring ends together and they became one piece, one solid seamless ring. The ring was at least an inch in diameter and at least a quarter inch thick. My hard-on seemed unaffected by the added weight and stayed as straight and as excited as ever. The head of my penis now reminded me of a bull's nose and I wondered if he was happy.

The camera moved around my body, giving me an opportunity to see how abused and cold I was before it settled into the crack of my ass. The lady's hands came to my crack from both sides, with fingers spread wide. Her hands landed on my globes, each gripping a cheek tight, nails dug into my crevice and then she spread my moons apart until my anus appeared. I couldn't move anywhere with my body bound and testicle imprisoned, so I endured the paroxysm while in a state of denial. Another pair of hands appeared, with one of them moving to my buttocks, it's long middle finger soaring to my butt hole. I watched in shock and discomfort as the gnarled finger wormed its way inside me, long curved nail first. I whimpered, squirmed and tensed while watching it dig into me until fully embedded. My ass cheeks were a pair of goose bump moons, strained, in more ways than one, to the invasion.

When the finger yanked free, the hand disappeared and reappeared with the gold end of a long stem which it brought to my puckered aperture. The stem was only about as wide as a baby's finger and a foot long, but there appeared to be a mane of hair attached to it. She nudged the rounded point of metal against my orifice and worked the tight hole open. My rectum ceded to her endeavor without resistance. Then she ran the stem into my behind until she came to a golden ball. I was there with eyes wide because the camera forced me to witness the spectacle, the rape of my abused rectum. Once again it was surrendering to a stem of metal, inserted up to a ball that my sphincter was now expected to open around and swallow. I had been primed for this, yet screamed and put up a quickly lost fight. The gold ball did support a mane of hair, a long blond mane of hair that seemed to grow out of my butt.