Crowdsourcing BDSM Pt. 02

It has been almost a year since Tim, my boyfriend, introduced me to his machines. Since then, I have spent much of my time in the basement, strapped down, enjoying the unique combination of pain and pleasure only they can deliver.

Unknown strangers remotely control these machines. At first, we allowed them free access to the app that determines what these machines do to me. A few months back, we began charging a subscription fee. Sadists around the world now pay for the privilege of tormenting and titillating me.

I usually require a few days to fully recover from the welts and bruises inflicted during a session. While not performing, Tim and I use the revenues from our customers to build new machines. Last year, we made enough to construct a steel platform for me.

This platform looks like a static cross, but uses bearings and motors to act like a gyroscope, rotating a full 360 degrees, horizontally and vertically. When I am secured to it, the assembly can angle me to face any direction.

Within seconds, I can be facing up, down, sideways, or anywhere in between. Of course, the most difficult position to endure is inverted because upside down sends blood rushing to my head. Fortunately, that angle is also the most arousing.

The lower Y section of the platform can be remotely separated, which pulls my legs so far apart that I feel like a wishbone about ready to snap. This lets the fucking machines get deeper inside my ass and pussy.

Our most significant upgrade came when we attached all the machines to the platform. It took a minor engineering miracle to secure the fucking machines. However, with all machines aboard, they stay with me for the whole ride, delivering uninterrupted punishment and pleasure, no matter how fast the platform rotates.

After each session, I have angry welts crisscrossing most of my pale freckled skin. A sobbing mess of ecstasy, I stand there naked, green eyes wide, red hair mated with sweat, and face smeared with makeup. I rejoice in the pure thrill of having been the plaything for so many dark-hearted strangers. At that moment, I am fulfilled beyond my dreams.

At just five foot and ninty-five pounds, I can take an amazing amount of abuse, pain, and forced pleasure. In fact, when not bolted to that platform, I constantly crave it. So much so, that I haven't written anything in months, choosing instead to spend my time either riding the platform or upgrading it.

The revenues from the machine app have allowed Tim and I to construct a host of new devices. The latest is a high-pressure water pump for my clitoris. It can rapidly increase intensity from a soft orgasmic spray to a high-pressure pain-inducing stream.

In addition, we replaced the old whipping machine, with a series of drill motors. Row of these devices can simultaneously whip my breasts, tummy, pussy, thighs, calves, and soles. The drill motors operate at much higher speeds, causing the lashes to land rapidly and painfully. Fortunately, Tim coded safeguards into the hardware drivers, preventing customers from using excessive speeds to lacerate me.

We also came up with a variety of different whips for these devices, ranging from thin plastic tubes to wide leather belts. The thinness, hence, most painful whips were reserved for my tender breasts and pussy.

My tits are small but pert. When they're not too sore, I wear a 30b size bra. Over time, they have become a highly desirable target for our customers. In fact, I recently had my nipples pierced so that Tim could attach alligator clips to them. This lets the customers thoroughly shock my breasts, in much the same way as my pussy and ass can be jolted using electrified metal dildos.

The platform and all the machines attached to it can be easily manipulated from any smartphone running our app. As our customer base grew, we added even more bells and whistles. Indeed, today, we just finished installing a plastic tube through the metal ass dildo. It allows users to inject me with an assortment of stinging and painful liquids, while I am taking it up the ass from a pumper machine.

I was anxious to try out this new sensation. As the sun went down, I showered and sang. Tim was in the bathroom, combing his hair.

"You're in a good mood," he remarked.

"I'm looking forward to seeing how our customers like the latest upgrade," I said.

"I mixed up the enema recipes you suggested, and coded the options into the controls. I think lemon and ginger will provide the most discomfort for you," he said.

"Oh, you are such a romantic," I said, excitedly giggling like a virgin on her wedding night.

Tim went downstairs, while I finished showering and dried off. It took longer than usual to apply my makeup, as I wanted to look my best. I used extra dark eyeliner and thick red lipstick. This look usually drove men crazy. I was hoping for something special tonight. Once I was satisfied with my face and hair, I literally bounced down the stairs to the basement.

The sight of that gleaming sliver metal platform never failed to take my breath away, and make me wet. As I walked over to it, my naked pale body lit up under the bright floodlights. I looked down at my black six-inch heels, they were sparkling. I could barely contain my excitement. Show time!

The platform was in the start position, which allowed me to back up to it, so Tim could strap me in. As I heard the buckles snap shut, I felt my ankles, calves, thighs, waist, shoulders, neck, and head tighten firmly against the cold metal. I shivered with anticipation.

By the time he was done, I couldn't move an inch. He locked the machines into place over me, and gave him a wink. Then, he placed headphones over my ears, a microphone near my mouth, and fastened VR goggles over my eyes, making sure they were tight enough to stay on during the entire ride.

I waited alone in the darkness, as he positioned the webcams to ensure every part of me was visible from multiple angles. As I heard the platform motors hummed into life, I took a deep breath. The platform quickly swung up, and I exhaled, heavily.

I was flat on my back, and facing the ceiling. My headphone crackled, and instantly a cacophony of male voices flooded in my ears. Some asked me how I was doing, others shouted profanities and described how I was going to suffer, and still others yelled compliments about my beautiful. This chorus of male testosterone deeply aroused me.

It was impossible to know who was speaking to me. I tried to focus on what was being said, but my attention was torn away by jerking of the platform. It spun around at a high rate of speed, until I was close to throwing up. Then, it brusquely flipped me over, so that I was facing down toward the floor. My entire weight was supported by just the straps, which bit deeply into me.

The motion of the platform and the actions of the machines were not being manipulated by anyone person. They were an amalgamation of the choices made by all our customers. If the majority indicated that I should move in a certain way or get whipped in a specific spot, then the platform and machines would carry out the will of the majority. It was the purest form of democracy.

I had to focus on my breathing. The straps were cutting into my midsection and lower waist, making it difficult to catch my breath. The volume of voices grew, as my breathing became increasingly labored. My lips parts, and I softly moaned into the microphone.

Vibrations from a powerful motor shock me, as the sections holding my legs slowly moved apart, forcing them wider and wider. By the time the motion ceased, my inner thigh muscles screamed from being stretched so far apart. A cool breeze against my pussy and ass signaled that I was now fully exposed.

I shuddered, as spray hit my clit. It felt delightful. I moaned, loudly. The goggles showed imagines of men's stiffening penises. I watched them being stroked, and licked my lips with desire.

The stream from the water pump quickly jumped to its highest setting, causing me to instantly orgasm. I attempted to reposition myself, but was completely immobilized by the straps. I had no choice but to take what was being dished out, and endure this massive over stimulation of my sensitive clit.

My fingers clinched into fists, as visions of cocks danced before my eyes. My orgasm turned from ecstasy to agony. Escaping from under the goggles, a tear ran down my left cheek. I screamed, loudly. My entire body shook in time with the intensive waves emanating from my clit. Cheers and whistles erupted from the headphones, indicating the audience's appreciation of my reaction.

The platform rotated again. The orgasm continued unabated, as I was repositioned upside down, with my head pointed at the floor, and my feet toward the ceiling. My legs were still pinned far apart.

In this inverted vertical position, my shoulders had to support most of the weight. Blood rushed to my head, and the high-pressure stream hitting my clit became increasingly hard to tolerate.

As I hung upside down, legs spread uncomfortably wide, words of encouragement rang in my ears, urging me to keep coming. My mouth wide and nostrils flaring, I gulped air, and watched the cocks float by, now fully erect.

When the spraying finally ceased, I groaned a sigh of relief. I had only seconds to enjoy the cessation, when a cold metallic object pressed against my moist labia. Without hesitation, it plunged deep inside my vagina. Fortunately, I had worked in plenty of lube ahead of time, so it went in easily.

My back arched within the constraints of the bonds, and I moaned. A roar of approval rang in my ears, as the fucking machine began to pump me. At first, it went slowly, but soon the strokes picked up in both speed and depth.

I strained against the straps, without success. I was helpless, without any hope of resistance, so I just gave myself over to the sensations. Each thrust tore a moan from my parted lips. My body flushed, and turned red.

As the fucking machine's momentum increased, I went rigid. From experience, I knew what would come next. Sure enough, a powerful jolt of electricity from the metal dildo into my pussy made me scream in agony. My legs and torso tensed and relaxed in time with the shocks.

Tiny vibrations and a loud whining indicated that the whipping machines were powering up. The lashes began connecting with my waist, thighs, calves, and feet. The ones whipping my soles hurt the most. A loud mournful wale escaped my clinched teeth.

The mixture of pain and pleasure short-circuited my nervous system. My head snapped back against the platform, and my stomach tightened. I was close yet another orgasm, when the second metal dildo press against my tight anus. I smiled from ear-to-ear, excited by the prospect of anal penetration, as this always brought me the most profound orgasms.

Suddenly, the male voices vanished. The abrupt loss of sound startled me. This had never happened before. I parted my lips to speak, but was stunned into silence, as my goggles also went dark. I was now both deaf and dumb. I gasped, as all the machines went quiet too.

Had we lost power? Where was Tim? I had no way of knowing. Trapped and completely immobilized on the platform, a stab of panic went through me like a knife.

Just as I was about to shout for help, a soft feminine voice sliced through my sensory deprivation, saying, "The boys have had enough fun, my turn."

My mind raced, as the platform rotated 180 degrees, leaving me upright, but with my legs still pinned apart. This was a much more comfortable position. Without all the blood whooshing to my head, I could think clearer.

"I have been watching you for some time, and know that you enjoy anal stimulation, along with a stiff measure of pain," the woman said.

Before I could reply, the anal probe slipped into my rectum, making me gasp with delight. As it began to pump me, I inhaled, deeply. Without warning, a series of painful shocks made my breasts dance. The studs embedded in them seemed to be on fire.

My moans turned into whimpers, as the metal dildo in my ass delivered a second set of painful shocks, forcing my pelvis to shudder uncontrollably. The electricity seemed to flow from my tits down to my crotch, and then back up. Until that moment, I wouldn't have believed this was possible.

Every inch of my naked torso tightened, and then released in perfect rhythm with the waves of current. The whine of the fucking machine in my ass grew louder, as it impaled me faster and faster. This unique mixture of electric pain, and ass pumping, shoved me over the edge. I came again.

Mouth open, I alternated between groans and moans, as pleasure washed into agony, and back again. This perfect blend of shocks and thrusts caused me to squirt, something I had never done before.

Pussy juices ran down the crack of my ass, improving connectivity, magnifying the shocks in my ass. At the peak of my orgasm, my tormentor simultaneously pumped all the nasty liquid recipes into my colon.

My ass burned, and my stomach tightened. My eyes widened with pain, and I wailed like a wounded animal. However, the net effect was to intensify my orgasm to the point I almost passed out.

I had spent countless hours over the last year having machines torture and arouse me. However, this time was entirely different. When groups of people competed for control of the machines, the result was uneven and uncoordinated. In contrast, this was a magnificent symphony of well-orchestrated agony and ecstasy.

This devilishly clever woman was expertly manipulating the whipping machines, clit spray, electricity, and fucking machines so that they worked together in perfect unison, delivering the longest and most Earth-shattering orgasm of my life. I soon lost track of where one orgasm ended, and the next began.

I ceased making a sound, only barely able to ride out the orgasmic waves. I was frozen in place, as the platform gradually began spinning me. Like a child's top, I spun faster and faster around, with all the machines expertly administering a masterpiece of torment and titillation.

Unexpectedly, everything went dead, leaving me heavily panting in the dark.

I shouted, "No! I want more!"

Tim tore the off the goggles, and light blinded me. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw the worry on his face. I had never seen him look so concerned. Confusion swept over me. He removed the headphones, and then said, "Are you alright?"

I stared at him, still angry with him for halting the best sexual experience of my life.

"I'm fine! What the fuck happened?" I demanded.

He unbuckled me from the platform, but had to support my weight. I was unable to stand on my own. He helped me to a couch, and I gratefully laid down, still panting.

"Someone hacked our system, and took over everything," he said, fussing over me.

"I thought we had firewalls and intrusion detection software?" I said, as my annoyance slowly subsided.

"It was a highly ingenious hack. Whoever pulled it off, overwrote all my code right down to the machine drivers. I have no idea how. I had to cut the main power to get you out," he said, visibly shaking.

I patted his arm reassuringly, and said, "I'm okay, really! In fact, it was the best session yet."

He just stared at me, and then said, "You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't. Listen, I'm exhausted. Let's talk about his later, I desperately need to rest," I said, getting up.

I was still unsteady, so he guided me up the stairs, making sure I didn't slip. Once in bed, I went out like a light. The next morning, I awoke, and checked over my body. I had far fewer welts and bruises than normal. I sighed, wishing that I could repeat the experience, soon.

Tim walked in with a breakfast tray.

"Wow, this is new. Usually, I serve you," I said, chuckling.

He didn't reply, still appearing pensive. I scooted up to let him place the tray over my legs. We sat there, and ate off my tray, quietly. When we were almost finished, he broke the silence.

"I don't think we should go back online. I don't see a way of protecting you," he said, with a deadly serious expression.

"Tim, nothing bad happened last night. In fact, I had the best orgasms of my life!" I said, sounding more exasperating than I had intended.

"That doesn't mean it won't. You could get seriously injured, or dead. We don't know who was behind the attack. If you go online, the hacker will likely override my safeguards again. Then, he would be free to doing anything he wants to you," Tim said, shaking his head.

Just the thought of being at the mercy of that stranger again aroused me.

"Judging by the voice, it's not a he, but a she," I said.

"Whatever, I am not going to be party to this insanity," he said.

He got up, and stamped out of the room. I heard the front door slam, as he left the house. We didn't communicate the rest of the day. By evening, I was anxious, and went to have a coffee at the local bistro.

After a brisk walk in the rain, I found a table in the corner, and sat down. As I stared out at the darkness, and listened to distant thunder, I absent-mindedly played with my coffee cup, occasionally sipping the warm liquid,

No matter how I tried, I couldn't keep my mind from going back over last night. I literally ached for that experience again. However, I knew Tim was right, it was just too hazardous.

My thoughts were abruptly disrupted, when a woman sat down right in front of me. Having my privacy so unceremoniously interrupted caused made me angry. My cheeks flushed red, as I glanced up at the stranger, and curtly said, "Please find another table. I want to be alone."

The woman wore a long gray trench coat, with water still running off it. Clearly, she had just come in from outside. Seeming to ignore my request, she removed a large floppy hat, and dropped it on the table. Long black hair tumbled out, cascading around her shoulders. She shook her luxurious mane, and then flashed me a roguish smile.

"Calm down, tiger," she said.

I studied her face. She looked slightly older than me, perhaps in her mid-thirties. She had pale smooth skin, short clipped bangs across her forehead, and modest eyeliner and lipstick. Under normal circumstances, I would have been strongly attracted to stern look appearance, but I just wasn't in mood for company.

She locked eyes with mine, and I froze. I had been ready to say something quite rude, when it dawned on me that this might be the hacker that had taken control our system. Her smile broadened. Apparently, my expression had given away my thoughts.

"With that unpleasantness out of the way, I would like to make a proposal," she said, with a gleam in her eye.

"If you are who I think you are, I'm not interested. You're a criminal, and I don't trust you," I said, pulling my purse closer.

"Come, come, we have just met in person, and you're already calling me names. Let's save that until later, when I have earned your contempt," she said, grinning.

I have slept with more than my share of women, but none more alluring than her. Nonetheless, her misdeeds helped me resist her. She was clearly dangerous. And, now, she was stocking me in the real world.

I was scared. So, I grabbed my raincoat and purse, and headed for the door.

"You haven't heard my proposition," she said.

Thankfully, she didn't get up to follow. She just sat there, unflustered, looking slightly amused. A waitress rushed over, and I fished out a wad of cash from my purse, and pressed it in her hand, before resuming my getaway.

As I walked out the door, I heard her say, "Check your phone, my contact information is in it."

I ran the two blocks to home. As the rain pounded me, I couldn't help but think about what she might have in mind for me. Fear washed over me.

When I got in my door, I checked my smartphone. Sure enough, there was a new name and number in my contacts. She must have hacked my phone at the bistro! I felt violated, which only made me hornier.