Chains Willing Ch. 09

Today's experiment, a course of flogging on my buttocks followed by having my urethra violated with oddly shaped rods. My heart fluttered at the assumption. I knew his pattern. He used to tie me down. Though now trained, I assumed the position to being flogged.

I stretched my arms forward to the end of the examination table, resting my breasts in the cold marble slab. With my legs spread wide, I basically rested my pregnant tummy on my thighs as much as I could to ease the pressure. Face down, back arched, butt up, I presented him my parts properly.

Behind me, he walked down his wall of tools in search of the right device that would make me scream. I had hoped he chose the longer twelve-tailed buckskin flogger. I enjoyed that one the most amongst all the others. His aura sent tremors up my back. I remained still, of course, ready to suffer.

Without a sound, my butt was reddened instantly sending both a sharp pain and heat flooding though my body. I screamed so loud.

We had stopped with the counting spanks out loud, and moved passed saying, "Thank you master. May I have another?"

After while it got really annoying for him. So I just screamed. He truly loved how I screamed. And so I did, so ... so well.

From the lack of sound as he swung it, and the large surface area of the strike, I deduced that he was using a large leather broad-faced paddle. It was large enough to strike both of my cheeks at once. However, he had use a bit of force to use it to its fullest extent. I was fine with that. He couldn't see me smile. Again.

Strike!

My scream echoed to the heavens and down below to the deepest depths of the abyss. Again and again.

"Keep thinking about it too," he sneered.

Strike.

"Having your anus pulled out and used as a fuck sleeve to a seedless Squidman."

Strike.

"You despicable toilet. Take this!"

Strike. Strike. Strike. Strike... for twenty counts. I nearly lost focus as my eyes were sent into darkness. And then I remembered the times I was forced to drink his urine. Not only his, but he walked me around the caverns and had me consume his brother's too. I was so full of pee I wanted to die. They didn't see that it was inhumane, they way he treated me. They weren't even human. They genuinely saw it as typical for me, a meat-toilet, to be treated in such a way. So I gave that to them. I was theirs.

He had struck me fifteen more times as I thought of the past. I had trained my myself to count and fantasize at the same time. Through pain, he sharpened my mind all while sending me into a mind numbing sub-space. I couldn't feel a thing anymore. I was there now.

My hell.

The thought of it sounded correct, so I went with it. My hell was so amazing. Deeper, deeper into—

I gasped silently when he gripped my privates, ceasing my thoughts. As he fondled me savagely, I thought about the color of my butt. The redness of my cheeks, I hoped they looked as vibrantly as they did in my head. Fingertips raking over the soft tender skin of my butt, bliss. The wholeness of my cheeks filling his palms as he grasps me and spreads me wide, a sacred fucking peace. I was lost in numbness.

He raked my skin with his finger tips over and over, inspecting his handiwork done to my ass. His firm grasp on my cock and balls made me moan silently too as he ran his fingers across my properly flogged butt. He hated unnecessary talk while he did his work on me. I was his subject. My hell had rules.

"On the table," he ordered, "On your back, hang your head off the edge."

"Yes master."

As he said, I obeyed. My back rested against the marble examination table and the weight of my pregnant tummy sent an uncomfortable tension to the base of my hips. I lifted my legs up and spread wide, resting my feet against the wall. My head hung off the table, letting my hair dangle freely. I stared, upside down, at his large dark green cock knowing fully his intent. My throat was a receptacle for enjoyment since my butthole was already occupied. My face was a thing to be mated with.

His cock was rather large when it was resting limply and hardened only slight larger. Not much of a grower, really. He had a hairy crotch, dense with unkempt tangles. His shaft started off light green and wrinkly with almost too much extra skin, and darkened to a deep green with more wrinkles and bumps up to his uncut head. Truly grotesque his cock was. I was about to be mated with by a big nasty Squidman cock. My mouth watered.

He approached me and smushed his genitals against my face. My vision was reduced to darkness as his hairy cock and scrotum pressed onto me At this time, I was granted the enjoyment of taking in his stench. Wild with sweat, his smell was intoxicating. I wasn't to take initiative by immediately taking him into my mouth. Trained to be obedient, the moment was simply to endure his scent. I closed my eyes and took in many deep breaths through my nose. I remembered when I hated his smell. My reluctance was trained out of me. Thank the goddess.

Patience was my greatest ally. I was grateful to have been trained so well. In the position I was ordered to assume, he usually set a weight on my crotch. Back then I anticipated that moment and I'd twitch. He'd then flog my cock and balls into oblivion. Now, I waited and focused on the strength of his odor and how much it dominated my little sissy heart.

He used a few moments to fondle my breasts. I then thought about having pierced nipples. I smiled into his crotch. His pubes bothered me at first. I rather liked the perfectly bald Blue-ones. So smooth! Eventually the brushy feeling and the stray hairs left behind stopped bothering me after I came to the consensus that I was a meat-toilet.

So he had a cloth sack full of large marbles that he'd use to pop into my butt after I had given birth. They were pretty big in my opinion, heavy too. He'd use them to train my body to accept the shape of the eggs at their maximum size. He'd walk me around the caverns and if any fell out ... well, I would be made to regret it. I never truly regretted being given 'bad punishment.' I sort of enjoyed being messed up. But to him, I gave him tears and begged for mercy like a good little fuck.

He used this bag of marbles as a weight to rest on my genitals as he mated with my face. I heard the big glass beads moved around in the bag as he lifted it up. He set it gently on my crotch and the weight of it on my cock and balls sent a light yet deep painful pressure into my tummy. I then held the bag in place with my hands and too one good final sniff of his ball-sack.

"You may begin," he said.

I rolled my face a bit to angle his cock appropriately, and then took his hooded head into my mouth. First, as trained, I used my tongue to sneak beneath his foreskin and clean. Twirling my tongue around and around his slippery head, I did so ignoring whatever taste he had accumulated between sessions. My ritual was sick. My hell was lined in wrinkly skin.

I swallowed my saliva, his smegma as well, and continued to take into the entirety of his shaft. He had hardened at this time. Thanks to being face-fucked, like, every day. My throat expanded as if it were as elastic as my rectum. His cock traveled down my esophagus like nothing and his large wrinkly scrotum rested against my nose.

Breathe.

I thought. I focused. I tasted and massaged his wrinkly bumpy shaft with my tongue. I inhaled.

Breathe.

The key to surviving being face-fucked was matching my breath with his inward and outward thrusts. As he began to slide his shaft back out of my mouth.

Exhale.

As his head left my throat and rested in my mouth, he paused. I circled his head once more to spread the syrupy mucus that head had just forced my mouth to produce. Then slowly back in, he pressed.

Inhale.

My esophagus expanded again, letting his cock make itself at home. With a quick test to my fortitude, he pinched tightly on my nipples. I moaned and gurgled but I didn't choke. My saliva crept out from the corners of my mouth and ran up my cheeks into my hair.

"Ah, good girl," he said.

His complement sent me rolling back into my hell. I was numb with arousal. Being throat fucked was so damn good to me, I blushed. The weight crushing my privates, dozens of tender eggs filling my entire digestive system, the sharp pain from my nipples being tormented ... my hell was dark and bitter.

He clutched the sides of my head. The mating was about to commence. I closed my eyes so his hairy scrotum wouldn't smack directly into my bare eyeballs.

"I'm going to fuck your face now, slave."

I sort of gurgled out, "Mmm mmmmmm." I mean of course I attempted to say "Yes master," but I couldn't say shit with my whole throat being full of cock.

My face was a pussy for him now and he treated it as such, fucking savage. He moved fast. I couldn't listen to my own sounds over the slapping of his hips onto my face. I imagined I was gurgling and slurping rather loudly too, yet I couldn't hear myself over the rapid smashing of my face. Over and over and over, yes. Fuck yes! I was a thing to be screwed up, fucking thrashed.

Mess me up master.

More.

Deeper.

The bumps, the wrinkles, the smell, the taste of skin, everything was beyond my expectations. Every day he impressed me with such experience. I deserved it. I was glad they thought the same. I was such a bitch.

"Take that you fucking bitch!" he screamed, thrusting harder and harder after each word.

But of course I knew him and his words. I would call myself the same thing he'd call me. He was rather predictable. But then again, he trained me. I almost choked, haha. I had to focus. The cock slid out, I exhaled. As the cock slammed back in, I inhaled. Slap! Repeat. Goddess I fucking love the way I was treated. Though in my early stages of slave-training he did keep fucking me even after I had passed out. I did actually need to focus, otherwise ... yes.

It was in these moments when time ceased its ever forward movement. Him mating with my face was the longest moment ever. Perhaps it actually was taking a while, whatever. He continued at his steady and unwavering pace. While I was face-fucked, I thought.

My home.

There, the fishermen tossed nets out over the edge of their boats while gulls swooped and glided about. The smell of fish mixed with the salty ocean breeze. The sounds of seagulls whining collided with the sound of buoys bumping into each other from clashing surf. While women carried baskets of catch to the stalls and shipping carts, men maintained their nets and lines. Kids flew kites amongst the swarming gulls and their parents watched with smiles on their faces. While life seemed to carry on with its ordinary course, I was being fucked in the face by a hairy green Squidman.

My own drool and lubricant smeared all over my face. I gurgled endlessly on my slimy spit. Skin wrinkles and bumps slid against the walls of my throat making me embrace every lewd imperfection of his cock. Stray pubes stuck to my gross mucus covered face. I was truly repurposed.

His cock suddenly pulsed and hardened to the point of insane density and shortly after, he slammed his cock as deep as he could and came. My stomach was filled with warmth. His cum was so damn hot. Mid-orgasm, he pulled out and ejaculated the rest of his load into my mouth. Salty heaven blessed my tastebuds as my cheeks filled up to the point of bursting.

"Don't swallow until I am done tormenting you're little bitch-cock," he ordered, removing the bag of marbles off of my crotch.

I nodded.

"Spin around and assume the position for cock torture."

I did so by resting my head and shoulders against the wall, back on the table, legs up and spread wide. I used my hands to keep my legs spread. My mouth was nearly erupting with semen and my tummy was so swollen that I couldn't see how pathetic my cock looked waiting to be fucked up. I was a mess. My face was still covered in mucus and I still had some random pubes stuck to my cheeks. Whatever. I bet I looked completely content as a breeding-whore.

He stepped over to another desk and returned shortly with a tray of urethral-torture-toys. The tools of which consisted of a series of rods that varied in size and shape. There were beads too ... cock beads. He had a metal syringe as well, of which I assumed he had acquired from humans. Well, I assumed just about everything he had was from trade with humans. He picked up the syringe. The tip was long and metal, ending at a rounded point.

"Open your mouth a little," he said.

I did. With the syringe, he extracted about half of the cum from my mouth. Thank the goddess, he came so damn much into my mouth that it hurt. After coating the shaft with clear jelly, he brought the tip of it to the opening of my penis. I took in a deep breath through my nose. Oh dear, my poor pee pee.

It entered and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. As the shaft traveled down my urethra, I wanted to die. It wasn't painful, but uncomfortable nearly the entire time. The strange sensation was filling and relieving in such a wrong area. Damn him for all of his fucked up methods that made me hurt so good. He then injected his semen into my bladder. I was being filled with his cum. Oh dear. That was a new one for me.

The pressure from not only being butt-pregnant, but aided by having a mouth, stomach, and bladder full of semen sent me into a bit of darkness. I was so full I could hardly breathe correctly. Oh my goddess, fuck me up more.

And so, it felt as if she made that happen.

He slowly pulled out the syringe, filled it with clear jelly, reinserted it, and then slowly pulled it back out while filling my whole urethra with lube. My pee-hole was ready to be trained. His first tool, a slight bent smooth rod with a slight girth to it. With it he began to fuck my penis slowly. He then switched to a slight thicker rod, thicker, and thicker. He progressed until he was using something that scared the shit out of me. He stretched the seven hells? I forgot how many hells there were. He stretched the hell out of my pee-hole.

By the goddess it felt so good. He trapped me in my sick realm of numbness. I wish I could have seen how lewd my cock looked being trained with thick metal rods. My swelled up tummy was so unattractive to me, honestly. It was a burden too, with all the sensitivity and the swelling. I wanted to just be their walking toilet and nothing else. Gahhh!

The taste of his cum sent my throat into a sour numbness. Well, it was probably from being fucked, but the flavor of his salty milky semen made it feel more numb. I had no idea where I was anymore.

His next tool of choice was a dull spirally rod and it was pretty thick too. He twisted it down my pee-hole slowly. Oh groaned and gurgled in his cum as it traveled deeper and deeper into me. He then twisted it in place and each ridge of the spiral shape rubbed the inside of my penis making me scream with my mouth closed. I wasn't sure if I was hard or not for I was so full and numb.

The beads were next.

It was still a rod though, not the beads on a string. It was just a rod of spherical ribbed dips and curves that started small and increased in size up to the base, sort of like an icicle made of beads. He liked to at least show me his toys before violating me. It wasn't a guessing game when it came to cock torture.

He penetrated my cock with his urethra-fucking utensil and I moaned like an animal. His smile made it better. He was so entertained by my suffering. I felt the thickness of each of the widest parts stretch me open and then taper quickly back to a comfortable width. One after one he inserted his little hell-tool into my dick. And after it was all the way in, he pulled it out and did it again and again.

His cold gaze almost stopped my heart when he shot his eyes at me. With a grin, "You can swallow now."

The salty sour milk slid down my throat and I took in a nice breath of air through my mouth. Breathing was a chore. In through the nose, out of the mouth, again. My heart was having a battle with the weight of being so full of both cum and eggs. Being pregnant sucked. Being pregnant in the butt? It wasn't fun. I wanted actual food. My mind was bouncing all over the place. He returned to fucking it with the ribbed dick-rod. Fuck, my penis was not having a good time.

My place.

I missed my little watchtower covered in vines. I missed alchemy. I tried thinking of my favorite prossessae, but I couldn't. Food was still on my mind. Months had went by and I couldn't remember what food tasted like. In my small intestine, blocking the entrance between my tummy and large intestine, was what they called 'a worm.'

I forgot the real name of it. I wasn't paying attention at the time. They let a long gross looking worm creature wriggle up my butt and into my small intestine. They said it basically made it so I could just drink cum and be fine. It worked. I've been consuming nothing but cum for that past few months and I was dandy. I pretended as if it weren't there. It was weird.

"Bored?"

My eyes widened when he noticed I had zoned out. Oh dear.

"Oh by the goddess, no, master," I cried.

Too late.

He began rapidly fucking my pee-hole with the ribbed urethral fuck-rod. Like, he was fucking the shit out of it. I couldn't feel my legs anymore. My arms were shaking beyond control. I nearly let my plug slip out. My soul was crying out to me to beg for mercy but I knew there was none. I was already passed the stage where I could ask for mercy. There was only suffering. I truly trusted him to stop when I could no longer handle it. I could handle a lot too.

"Say the phrase dear slave," he ordered.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Through the pain of my swollen pregnant large intestines, a tummy full of cum, a bladder full of cum, and being violated in my urethra by a rod with thick ribs ... I went to my place. My hell was my new home.

Mizer'Dragon.

"The Master causes the pain!"

Through the deepest darkness I had ever been surrounded by. I swore I heard that voice. I didn't even think about it. The numbness was killing me. The phrase was lost. Nearly passing out in a hazy trance, I thought about the next line. For if the master caused the pain.

Abyssal Krek and Sheel.

"The pain causes the Slave-girl to suffer!"

There she was again. Was I going insane? Dumb question. The realization that being considered insane would have made me more sane then my actual diagnosis ... masochistic anal breeding whore syndrome. Yet still, I was losing track of myself. Fuck. The slave girl suffered? Yes.

Thither er thou.

"The suffering causes the Slave-girl's body," I paused, breathed, screamed like a bitch, "To create the Essence!"

I could tell he was losing his patience. My time was coming to an end and he wouldn't let me cum. Damn it. The essence? My urethra was being stretched out. Fuck the essence. Fuck me. My head was going. I was at the brink of—

Fainting ever for'ard into darkness.

"The Essence mixes with Traces of Hur'caf, ughhhh!"

It was too much. He wasn't kidding about today's session. In and out. In and out. Breathing? No. The rod going in and out of my pee-hole faster than any cock had fucked me in the face. Alchemy though. Right? My masochistic delight created phenylethylamine. That and the Hur'caf from the worm...

Fall forth.

"The Mixture becomes an alchemical prossesae," I moaned.

That one was hard to say. Things were getting worse. Everything was hazy. The sound of my cock being violated, slurpy slimy meat being squished, filled my head with blank cloudy bliss. It was like a gift to my ears.

And.

"The prossesae grants the Slave-girl a gift."

The final phrase. I had it, master. Please let me cum! Fucking yes!