Experiment 239 Ch. 10

Anthony was seated cross-legged on the grass by the shore of the lake, painting. The beautiful blue sky above him was reflected in the still waters of the lake, birds sang all around him, and the trees bloomed with flowers.

It was a gorgeous landscape, but Sophie could not see it.

Her body was stretched out lengthwise across Anthony's lap, her back supported by his thighs and his small canvas spread on top of her flat stomach. Her legs were tied off to a tree, the rope taut and quivering. Her hands, cuffed together above her head, were tied off to another tree in the opposite direction, and the other end of that rope was attached to her clamped nipples, with the clamps screwed on the tightest setting. If she extended her arms to their fullest length, she could give her nipples some respite. But the muscles in her arms were aching, and she had no more strength in them. And so her nipples were pulled so hard that her breasts almost reached up to her collarbones, sending constant ripples of agony through her pain receptors.

Her cries were muffled by the inflatable gag within her mouth, strapped in over the ever-present ring gag. On top of that, Anthony had added an attachment that allowed him to fasten his palette to her gag. Cleverly (or so he thought), he had added sensors to the ridges of the palette. If any paint sloshed up over a ridge, her buttplug would feel it. Naturally, she was also blindfolded.

Sophie had performed marvelously today, Anthony thought. Only once in an hour had the buttplug activated, and even then she hadn't sloshed any more paint by wriggling from the shocks. She had truly become his living sex doll.

Having finished his painting, he set his paintbrush down, and let his right hand wander across her bare breasts. Gorgeous, he mused, as he stroked the smooth undersides. Her nipples were pulled so taut upwards, each touch in the vicinity must surely be sending fire through her skin. But still his palette remained steady.

"Good girl," he told her, cupping a breast with more force. She whimpered, and yet remained still.

He let his other hand wander between her thighs. She was, as usual, a positive waterfall. He hoped the grass wouldn't get drowned.

And still, the palette did not move.

"You aren't allowed to orgasm," he reminded her, as he slipped two fingers within her.

She must have been exceedingly close, after an entire week of subspace and sexual stimulation. Even bound as tightly as she was, it would have been easy for her to grind her clit against his hand and end her own torment.

But she didn't.

He explored her for his own pleasure, feeling her juices drench his fingers and spill out onto the grass. His other hand wandered over her breasts and nipples, stroking the taut skin. She whimpered and moaned and pleaded, but remained completely still and obedient.

"You've made so much progress, slave," he told her, sincerely. "I am so very, very proud of you."

She didn't, couldn't, respond verbally... but he could have sworn he saw her face turn radiant.

He slid out from his sitting position underneath her; without the additional tension, she had a few more inches of movement, and her poor nipples finally had some respite. The inflatable gag within her mouth was deflated and unstrapped. She moaned in relief, but it was short-lived.

Kneeling over her and gripping her hair in his hand, he raised her head slightly from the ground, and then plunged into her mouth without warning. The angle was difficult for her, and he hit the back of her throat hard, but he kept going. Her blindfold was soaked with tears, and rivulets of drool and snot ran down her chin. He pulled out to a shallow depth and finished on her tongue, knowing full well that she would be unable to swallow completely with the ring gag on, and that she would be tasting him for the rest of the afternoon.

After he was done, he stroked her hair briefly, then slipped the inflatable gag back in. He gave it a couple of pumps more than he had before, ascertaining that she could breathe, but just barely. Her cheeks were stretched out painfully, and any sounds she could make were extremely muffled. He tightened the rope holding her hands to the tree, removing any slack that her arm muscles and nipples might have enjoyed in the last few minutes.

She screamed through the monstrosity stuffed in her mouth, but he wasn't done. He turned the buttplug on to its periodic setting.

"It will stay on low until I wake up," he assured her, stroking her forehead as she strained against her bonds.

Then he stretched himself out on the grass and lay down with his head on her quivering thighs, falling asleep in mere seconds. Life was so, so good.

***

The second week passed in an endorphin-fuelled submissive haze for Sophie. She woke up, she put the (now rather large) buttplug in, she tightened her clamps, she did her hair and makeup. She fixed breakfast and had her first cock of the day. She cleaned the lakehouse in various types of restrictive bondage for Anthony's viewing pleasure. Throughout the rest of the day, she underwent rigorous positions, more cocksucking, and he came on various parts of her body or mouth. She drank sustenance through her funnel when Anthony decided, although to his credit he never failed to feed her three times a day.

She was so obedient now that she rarely earned any punishment, but Anthony's hands were twitchy. And what good was a slave if she could not serve as his plaything? In the evenings, he made a ritual of her bringing various impact play instruments to him and begging him to use them on her. He told her to choose the instrument, and to his surprise she chose the ones she knew he enjoyed for harder play, irrespective of her feelings towards it. She always brought him the cane and the belt, never the flogger, which he knew was her own personal favourite. His heart swelled.

He did not restrain her during the ritual canings, but left her hands free and told her to place them on the table and bend over. She did so, and held her position for as long as he desired, even when she was shaking and sobbing from the welts left on her bare behind.

She now fell asleep like a baby at night, even in the strict bondage that she had placed herself in.

Day 14 finally arrived, and the keys arrived in the mail as promised. Anthony had Sophie bring them to him from the mailbox, with her hands unbound. She could have at any time removed the ring that had kept her jaw stretched for a fortnight, or the corset that squeezed her ribs, or the high heels that made it take three time as long for her to get back to the house as it otherwise would've.

Of course, she did not. She entered the house, knelt, and presented them to him.

He took them from her.

"Would you like to orgasm, Sophie?" he asked her gently.

She looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded frantically.

He tied her arms behind her, with barely an inch between her elbows. Then he picked up her leash and led her to the shed at the back of the lakehouse.

He had been building this contraption for her for a while now, hoping that they would be able to use it as the culmination of the amazing fortnight that had passed. It was a large metal frame, with a hook at the top, and a wired plate on the front. There was a circular hole in the middle of the plate, through which a large dildo poked through - it was just a tiny bit less than 2.5 inches in diameter, which was the inner diameter of Sophie's ring gag. The dildo was mounted onto a screw stand that allowed one to push it further through the plate if desired, and to tighten it at the new position. The bottom of the frame had a spreader bar built into it, with leg cuffs on either end. Everything, naturally, had been built to Sophie's measurements.

Sophie was quivering with anticipation as Anthony hooked her up. Her wrists were tied off to the hook at the top of the frame, resulting in her arms being pointed upwards almost at a 90 degree angle to the ceiling, and in her mouth being forced towards the dildo, with the plate an inch or so from her lips. Her ankles were strapped into the leg cuffs, spreading them a few feet apart, and the clamps on her nipples were tied tightly to the spreader bar, stretching her poor tortured nubs just about as far as they would go.

The dildo was screwed forward into her mouth gradually, with Anthony checking each time whether her air supply had been cut off. He eventually arrived at the sweet spot where she could still breathe if she pulled her head all the way back, but pressing her lips onto the plate would block her air supply. Electrodes from the frame were then attached to her breasts, vulva, and buttcheeks.

When he was done, he saw that a sticky trail had already made its way from Sophie's cunt to the floor.

Perfect.

He leaned forward over her, pressing the bulge in his pants against her ass and grabbing a fistful of breast. She moaned helplessly.

"So," he whispered into her ear, his stubble tickling her skin. "I think you can already figure out how this works, mm? You're a smart girl."

Whimper, trickle, squirm.

"Yes, this device sends shocks through the electrodes, AND through your buttplug, whenever your lips aren't completely sealed against the plate. Here, I'll give you a taste."

He flicked the remote on, and current coursed through the wires. Sophie screamed and slammed her lips against the plate.

He left the remote on and continued to speak as she kept her lips there. "It starts on the third-lowest setting, but ramps up if it's triggered again in the next 5 seconds."

Her eyes bulged, and her entire body began to tremble.

"It resets back to 3 the next time if you don't trigger it for more than 5 seconds, though."

She tried to keep her lips on the plate, but she hadn't known to take a deep breath at the start, and she wasn't able to hold it there for 5 seconds. She pulled back, and electricity pulsed into her most tender regions, eliciting one of the loudest gagged screams he had ever heard from her. She gulped down as much air as she could and plunged forward, and the shocks died down. Her thighs were quivering from the combined strain of the position and the effects of the shock.

He stroked her hair tenderly. "I'll turn it off now. You may relax."

She pulled back, gasping for breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

He slipped a small squeaky rubber ball into her palm. "Hold this."

She did. She wasn't even questioning why.

"This is the master switch for the entire contraption. If you drop it, everything stops. No more shocks, and I will release you."

This actually got her attention. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"You won't be punished for whenever you choose to stop. I won't be angry at you. But I have set an alarm, and it would please me greatly if you held on to it until it rings."

Their gaze locked for a brief moment. Her dark green eyes, brimming with tears, looked deep into his.

Anthony kissed her cheek, then flipped the remote on in full view of her.

He stood for a while, simply enjoying the magnificent view she was providing. Her bright red lips pressed hard against the plate, choosing the dildo in her throat over air. Her pulling back when she could no longer take it, and then the tensing and shaking of her limbs as the electricity pulsed through her. The tears and drool and pussy juices accumulating quickly on the floor. Her nipples pulling taut against the clamps, her ass muscles clenching and flexing alternately.

After a while, he could take no more, and pulled his jeans down. "You may cum," he told her simply, as he plunged into her.

She came after only a few thrusts, so pent up had all the sexual frustration been in her. And she kept cumming as he rammed into her, holding out for as long as he could. Still, it was barely 5 minutes before he was spilling his seed deep within her as well.

He did not rest when he was done, but immediately pulled out the vibrating dildo on a stick that he had conveniently left on the table behind him. He pushed it deep into her, tied it off to her spreader bar, and then flipped the switch on and set it to high.

Taken by surprise, she lost contact with the plate by accident, screamed, and plunged back down.

He stroked her hair, held her, played with her breasts, jiggled the vibrating intruder within her, played with her buttplug. She was drenched in sweat now, in addition to all of the other fluids.

"You're so beautiful like this," he spoke into her ear, before finally taking a few steps back to clean himself up. When he was done, he pulled up a chair and settled in, drinking in the sight before him.

He lost count of how many orgasms Sophie had. But eventually, the furiously-vibrating dildo within her went out of battery and fell silent.

The most interesting part of the whole setup had now begun.

He knew that Sophie, in a state of heightened arousal or in the throes of orgasm, had an incredibly high pain tolerance. But when all of that died down, when she was in a post-orgasmic state, the endorphins would drop, and she would feel the full extent of the pain that was being inflicted on her. He could only imagine how excruciating it would be.

She pulled her head back. Her screams echoed across the wooden shed, and he thanked his lucky stars that they were on a retreat and not in their usual abode.

Her entire body must be pushed far beyond her usual limits now, every fibre of her being clamouring for mercy.

But she pushed her lips back against the plate. And still, she held stubbornly on to the squeaky ball.

Anthony watched in amazement as she held on for the entire hour that it took for his preset alarm to finally ring. He almost gave in at some point, moved by her anguished screams and protruding veins and copious tears. But he kept his eyes on the ball, and reminded himself that if she wanted to outlast the hour, he would not disappoint her.

As soon as the alarm sounded, she dropped the ball, and the contraption went dead. She pulled her head back, gasping and sobbing and whimpering. He sprang up from his seat and untied her nipple clamps, uncuffed her ankles, and then unhooked her wrists from the ceiling and pulled her gently backwards. She predictably collapsed into his arms, unable to hold herself up. He held her tightly, asked her if she was okay, and carried her over to a mattress that he had prepared in the corner of the shed. Sobs still shook her entire body as he laid her gently down on it, and he hoped he hadn't pushed her too far.

He untied her wrists and elbows, all the while murmuring soothingly to her, telling her what an unbelievably amazing slave she was and how proud he was of her. Then he fished the key out of his pocket, and unlocked her gag.

It took a long time for her to be able to flex her jaw enough to be able to open and close it of her own accord, but he held her the entire time and massaged it for her. When she was finally able to open and close her mouth, he gave her a sugary drink, instructing her to sip and not gulp.

When he was satisfied that she was okay, he reached for the lock on her collar, but she placed her hand on his. She was weak, but her intention was clear. "Tony. Don't."

Astonished, he nearly dropped the key.

She looked up at him, giving him a weak smile. "Tony, that was the best 2 weeks of my life. I don't want it to end. Please don't make it end."

He blinked, gathering his thoughts. "You... want to stay in the collar?"

"Yes, I want to. And also... everything else. Not just physically, but... what I was. What I was to you."

He couldn't help it. He actually teared up himself.

He held her for a long time, then finally pulled back to rub his eyes. "I... Sophie, I want nothing less. But your job..."

"They already know. How much more can a collar be?"

"Will you be able to do your job?"

She laughed impishly, and it was that simple gesture, the melding of her old self with her new, that told Anthony that this was truly what she wanted. "Well, the ring gag would probably need to be taken off at work..."

He joined her laughter. "Gosh. We've never had a ceremony or anything..."

"That WAS my ceremony."

"True. Was it a good one?"

She sipped her drink. "How long did you take to build it?"

"Just about 30 hours in total?"

"Jesus, Tony, I fucking love you."

"You'll have to start getting used to calling me Master if you want to keep this up, you know?"

They made love again, on the mattress in the corner of the woodshed. Then he picked up her leash and led her back to the house for a long, hot bath.

***

In her memories, 18-year-old Elaida was having the time of her life.

She was hitting it off with Larry, in that wonderful Goldilocks zone where you feel like you've known someone forever, yet are trembling with excitement at the newness of it all. It was her first time meeting him, her first time doing anything like this, yet she was absolutely 100% certain that she wanted him to grab her and tie her up and mercilessly pound her virginity into oblivion.

They talked about the erotic fanfiction that he wrote, about all the other things they had talked about when she had messaged him on that site, about their lives in college. About kink, about their fantasies...

She was still standing before him as instructed with her hands on her head, her tiny dress barely covering her crotch, and slightly unsteady in her 4-inch heels. A ridiculously awkward position to be having a first conversation in, yet in her mind it could not have been more perfect. She was conscious that a trickle of wetness had made its way all the way down her inner thighs to her calves, and no amount of squeezing her legs together could hide it. She couldn't help but look down at it; his eyes followed hers.

There was an electric pause, then he stood up and pulled her body to his and kissed her.

She could barely believe it. She was making out with the boy of her dreams; her, Elaida Hemsworth, the girl who had never had a boyfriend. She could taste his lips and feel his rough hands caressing her, and she was vaguely aware that she was doing the same. One of his hands grabbed her breast, the other settled on her ass...

She froze. She didn't want him to stop, but the sensation was so foreign and so overwhelming, and she didn't know how to react...

Larry could sense it, and he pulled away. Frowning, he asked her, "Ellie...? Are you okay?"

Elaida gasped, blinked, tried to force a smile. "I... yes! I want this!"

He didn't resume making out with her, though, and only studied her cautiously. "Ellie... have you ever... been with a guy before?"

Everything came crashing down and she froze again.

He took her hand gently and led her to the sofa, sitting down next to her. "Is this your first time?"

She finally managed to nod, tears brimming up in her eyes. Why did she have to freeze up like that and ruin everything?!

There was a good 30 seconds of silence before Larry spoke, his words thick with confusion. "I... I'm sorry, Ellie, I didn't know. I wouldn't have been so quick if I did. I mean, we'd talked about all those kinks..."

"But I WANT this!" she blurted out, frustration overcoming her awkwardness at long last. "I've never done it with anyone, Larry, but I want to, and I've spent way too much time doing it with myself already..."

His worried eyes found hers, and he managed a tentative smile. "I want it too, Ellie. But... I'd feel guilty, you know? Like I was taking things way too quickly. Especially if we do it... well, if we do it the way we intended to. With all the props and stuff." He patted his backpack.

Elaida lost her temper. "Just do it, Larry! C'mon! Why are you acting like such a pussy, anyway!?" she yelled.

He looked stunned, and Elaida raised her hands to her mouth in horror. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..."