Hurt Me

Her ring is flush with the flesh around it. It's just a medium-deep swath of flesh, full of little wrinkles that all run right to a very short, and squished, squiggly little line at the center of her ring.

Sophie puts the tip of her feather very lightly against those wrinkles. She starts stroking it softly, and very slowly, around the center of her asshole, teasing the rim of Christine's ring with it.

Christine so feels it. It tickles. But it's far more sensual than tickling for her. Every movement of every strand of the feather's fur raises a fresh icy spark in the nervy, hungry, flesh over that tensed muscle. A spark that shoots right along the line of its nerve, sending crisp chills through Christine that have her shiver even more crisply. They make her muscle snap and tense even tighter for a split second, too.

Every tingle forces Christine to the one thing she most hates. Show it. She can't help but to squeal a muted purr as the tingles burn along her nerve. Then she grunts a sharp, pained, yelp through her clenched teeth as the shiver makes her body shudder slightly. And that makes those weights dangling from her sensitive nipples bounce around. Tugging hard on her long nubs as they drop down, snapping back up on the elastic cords just to bounce again and tug hard on her nipples. The icy sparks have her shuddering fast enough to keep those weights dancing without any respite for Christine.

And that keeps her grunt and squealing. It encourages the goosebumps to keep erupting too. Now they cover most of her back, along the insides of her cheeks through her crack, and even her breasts.

As she suffers, those weights bouncing energetically, her nipples slowly get sore from the constant tugging on them by the harsh clamps. That only makes each tug hurt that much more. And that arouses her that much more.

I don't have to look. Christine's pussy is just like the rest of her. Prissy prim and proper. Most of the time. But once it starts getting hot, and now it's burning hot enough to make fire seem cold, it flows with her honey. A honey that's clear and the consistency of the honey it's nicknamed after. It doesn't take long for her honey to have her fur fully soaked. That's when I see the first drop of it rain from her furry mound and land on my tile floor. By coincidence, it happens just as Christine finally cries out a pained, loud, yelp of "AH-OW!" from the biting tug of those clamps.

I can see her trying to hold her shoulders still, at least for a minute to give her nipples a short break from the painful tugs. She doesn't have a prayer of it. She can't stop the shivers from shooting through her body at full force. And she can't stop those from making her body shudder involuntarily. So her shoulders shudder with the rest of her. And the weights bounce around, snapping more and more tugs on nipples that are getting more and more tender.

The end result is predictable. Christine's yelps steadily grow more pained. That makes her squirms grow more energetic. Which makes the weights bounce harder. Her control steadily slips away.

In a few minutes, maybe all of five minutes, of that, and I have Christine where I want her. Little tears weep from the corners of her eyes. But she's too busy yelping loud, plaintive "OW!s" to sob. Just to squirm more and yelp more. And drip honey from her pussy faster. Now she looks like what she truly is. A sub enduring a too-sweet agony.

Unlike some subs, Christine wants it to be intimate, invasive, and rough. Some subs I have to coddle, to gently push through everything it seems. Not Christine. She wants me to force her, and not to be gentle or kind when I do. I can do rough. I just save the roughness for the subs who want it. Especially those like Christine who want to believe they don't want it, but deep down know they need it. They always react so... vividly! And that amuses me.

Christine screams. Loudly. It's a pained scream. And it makes her wiggle around energetically. And that makes the weights bounce hard, tugging even harder on her nipples as they do.

She screams as I shove both of my thumbs roughly into the tiny, and very tensed, ring of her asshole. I have my thumbs together, their backs against each other, so it's like one huge, fat, thumb being shoved into a much smaller, and unwilling, ring of muscle.

A ring that hasn't a chance of blocking the intrusion. But that doesn't stop it from trying. It holds fully tensed up, trying to resist. That only makes it throb painfully, just like a finger does when it's hit with a hammer, as my thumbs harshly stretch the tight muscle. They push right through it. As they do I can feel the hardness of her muscle squeezing tightly around my thumbs, squishing against them, making them feel so unwelcome.

I push them most of the way into her asshole. I don't want to go all the way. It's easier for me if I stop short of that deep. I lightly bend the tips of thumbs, crooking them outward toward Christine's hips, once they've passed beyond the ring of her asshole and into her rectum. Her rectum is wider than the ring of muscle closing its end off. It's far looser, too. It's just a sausage-casing-like filmy membrane surrounded by a paper-thin wall of smooth muscle that's really useless for resisting anything. The added width allows my thumbs to cradle the entire thickness of her asshole.

I pull my thumbs apart. An asshole doesn't have near the strength of a thumb, much less an arm. So it's easy for me to pull my thumbs apart. As they spread, they pull Christine's asshole, stretching her muscle tauter and wider. And that makes the throbbing ring start to burn with the strain. Soon it's burning as hot as her pussy.

And it has her asshole gaping wide open as I hold it wide. It's not a view I particularly care for. It's a view that lets me see right through her asshole and up into her rectum. And I haven't given her an enema to clean her rectum out. So I don't look.

I let Sophie handle the work. She gets to look. She has to in order to put the tip of the feather where I want it. Right atop the sensitive flesh over Christine's ring of muscle. All of it, the full thickness of her ring, not just the rim of it. Sophie uses the edge of the feather to stroke over that flesh, where it's stretched tightly between my thumbs.

Christine shrieks with sensual delight. It makes her shudder harder and crisper than ever. Which makes those weights bounce harder too. Which makes Christine scream. So she moans as she screams and shudders.

Sophie doesn't care about Christine's suffering. She just deftly strokes away, teasing her asshole endlessly as Christine screams her moans.

Christine's pussy drips away.

It doesn't take long for me to see how energetically Christine's hands are fighting against their cuffs. Not even so much to get free, but to get to her pussy. They try to push down, to her crack and beyond. And to the sides, to get around her hips. But they don't. They stay useless at her back as Christine screams from the erotic teasing.

Chapter 03: The Price Of Offending My Slave

I move quickly as I free Christine from the ropes that hold her over the stand. By now she's suffered a good fifteen minute of Sophie's anal feather teasing. That's plenty.

And it shows just how much Christine has had. As I pull her up to her feet, she's panting sultry moans. And still fidgeting as she tries to get her hands to her pussy. It doesn't take her long to figure out that's not going to happen. It doesn't stop her from trying. But it does get her trying to squish her thighs together and grind them on her pussy.

That doesn't help much either. But it's hard to do much as I drag the stumbling woman over to the next treat I have for her. It's only one step for me. About three for her.

This stand is built almost like a weight bench. The main difference is where the legs that hold its bench up are. This one has one set of legs at the feet, and the second just short of where Christine's shoulders are. It also slants about 30 degrees downward, but in the "wrong" direction. It has her head lower than her feet. And it's not padded for comfort. Its bench is just a length of 2x12 lumber.

I shove Christine down on the bench, letting her legs dangle off the foot end from her bent knees down. It has her rather uncomfortably lying on her cuffed wrists.

I opt for a quick job of binding her down. She's not going to be here that long. And I don't want her to ebb back from her full squirminess before she goes insane! I use shrink wrap. The same cellophane type wrap they use on pallets of goods for shipping them. This stuff is great. It's impossible to rip or break. And it's clear. And very easy to use. As I do now. I start at Christine's shoulders and just wind the 8" long roll around her body and the board under in. I keep the wrap taut as I go, and it clings, pulling Christine snugly against the board. When I get to her waist, I put a little block of styrofoam between the bottoms of her thighs, just above her knees. It will keep her thighs open enough that she can't squish them snug against her pussy. Then I wrap all the way down to her knees at the end of the board.

It makes Christine into a mummy. A mummy wrapped in see-through plastic, but still mostly a mummy. I think she realizes that she's in trouble now. Her shins and feet start kicking and squirming already. As does her head. Which is all that Christine can manage to move. The pallet wrap holds the rest of her too snugly pinned to the board.

Christine hasn't been on this board yet. Never. This is new for her. I always try to have a few new things for a sub on each session. I love the variety. They do too. Like now. I can see the nervousness flooding Christine's face as she wonders what horror I have in store for her. I'm sure she knows that "Christine" is going to absolutely hate it. Despise it. Find it utterly disgusting or overly painful. Just as somewhere deep inside, she knows that it will make her pussy burn with an unbearable fire. Her mind just wonders what she's going to have to endure. Her body and her pussy.

I pull a thin black cotton cloth over her entire head. It's not quite thick enough to blindfold her, but it is enough to block her sight. She can see the light, and shadows, through it, but not the details. I see her body start squirming a little more anxiously against the clear bindings. But I don't see it move any more than it has been, which is far less than an inch in any direction.

"This is for being rude to my devout slave-girl, you nasty bitch!" I tell Christine in a rather sweet voice. A too-sweet voice. And she catches it. It tells her that this is going to be bad. She struggles against the bonds with everything she has. "Please, Miss Rodgers! I'll apologize!" She desperately blurts out with a near-panic in her voice.

I laugh. Sophie knows what I have planned. She slides an old-fashioned washtub under the bench and positions it with Christine's head over the center of it. Christine doesn't see any of it.

Instead, she just sees a dark, looming shadow eclipse her head as it moves to straddle Christine's head.

The shadow she sees is Sophie. Sophie straddles Christine's head, standing with her pussy only several inches above Christine's chin. I'm standing behind Christine's head, and Sophie stands facing me. She slowly rolls her dress up to her waist, teasingly baring her pussy and her bare pubes to my eyes as she does. As always, Sophie is perfectly shaven just because that's how I like to see her pussy.

I nod. Sophie pees. I made sure Sophie drank an extra cup of tea earlier, and I haven't sent her potty since. And now it shows. A powerful jet of deep-golden pee shoots down and lands on the cloth covering Christine's face. It lands over Christine's mouth, flooding over that and running up into her nose. And with Christine's head lower than her feet, the angle of her body allows Sophie's hot, fresh-from-her-pussy pee to run into Christine's nose as well as her mouth.

It's what our government calls waterboarding. Only I'm using steamy fresh pee instead of plain water. The pee is much warmer. And saltier. And it has such a distinctive aroma! I think pee is far more persuasive than water. Maybe I should send the video of this session to the CIA. If pee is appropriate for naughty subs, surely they can use it at Guantanamo Bay. They might even get more answers to their questions my way!

Christine gags and sputters hard. Her body snaps into a panic-driven overdrive as she struggles against the plastic wrap. The plastic doesn't even strain. It holds her in place, Sophie's pee flooding her mouth and nose. It keeps Christine gagging and choking and sputtering hard. It also makes it impossible for her to say anything. She can't even beg for mercy! She just chokes away.

And Sophie pees away. That extra cup of tea has clearly done its job and made her bladder was nicely full. And now all of that pee is gagging Christine. And washing over her face, leaving every bit of it wet with the unique feel and aroma of pee. Since it's flooding her mouth, she's tasting it, too. But that's not the worst of it. The wet cloth is the worst part. That keeps her from spitting the pee back out of her mouth. Her reflexes, the ones that think she's literally drowning in the pee, make her get it out of her mouth so, hopefully, she can breathe. The only way it's getting out of her mouth now is for her to swallow it. She's doing it before she realizes it. Those pesky reflexes! And she still thinks, her brain certain, that's she drowning in pee.

Sophie just pees right on. I've told her to. I've told her to completely empty her bladder. To pee on Christine's face as much as she possibly can. Such a rude bitch deserves to choke on pee!

I know Christine is scared. The fear is part of a waterboarding, at least according to the Human Rights Defense League. There's no way Christine doesn't know what's filling her mouth and nose. That she's being pee not on, but in, as well. And that she's swallowing it. I know that has to be utterly disgusting Christine. And I know what disgust does to her pussy. The lower I make her feel, the hotter she gets.

I call this punishment "pee-boarding." I don't use it too often. It would be too much for some subs. But I think Christine will be aroused by it. It is definitely one of the things that will make a person feel exceptionally low. To be used for a toilet. Especially like this, where she ends up with the pee in every orifice her face has, and covering her head. Even in her hair. There it will serve as a constant reminder of what was done to her. The CIA really needs to consider this version of waterboarding.

Finally, Sophie runs out of pee. I can see it coming as her stream starts to wane. But Christine doesn't notice it. She goes right on struggling desperately, gagging, choking, and sputtering. But the only parts of Christine that can really move are her lower legs and feet. And those kick wildly.

Even after Sophie has run dry, Christine keeps on sputtering and gagging for close to half a minute. It takes her that long to get the pee out of her sinuses. But not the taste and smell of it. That's going to linger for hours. Forever in her brain.

"Please, Miss Rodgers!" Christine blurts out in a begging panic, "I'm sorry, Ma'am! I'm sorry Miss Slave! Please, I will never be rude to anyone ever again, Ma'am!" She coughs and sputters again for several seconds, "PLEASE! Just don't do that to me anymore! Oh my G-d, that was the most disgusting thing! I had to swallow it!" She chokes, probably from the thought of it. "Please, I'll be a good filthy bitch, Ma'am! I'll do whatever you want me to! Anything! Just please, don't do that to me again, Ma'am. Please!"

"Oh, you're ready to behave now, are you bitch?"

"Yes, Ma'am! I swear, Ma'am, I'll be so good! I'll do anything you want! Anything at all, Ma'am! Just please, don't drown me in pee again!"

I get a knife and start slitting the shrink wrap binding Christine to the bench. I start at her knees. Before I get all the way to her pussy, I see what a mess it is. A wet, sloppy mess. She's so wet that the raw wood under her mound is wet with honey soaking into it. I just blow a puff of air on her pussy mound and a hard shudder racks her bound body. That pussy is dying for a touch! Even the tiniest little touch.

I stop slitting the plastic when I get up to her navel. It leaves her bound snugly from her shoulders to her navel. And that's plenty to keep her in place. But it will let her wiggle her hips and thrash her legs.

Now I get a pair of chastity panties. These are fairly modest panties, but they have to be. They're just like those boxer briefs for guys. Except they're pastel pink, a color I don't see too many guys wearing. They have plastic straps laced through the hem at the bottom of each leg hole. And they have a fine, but sturdy, chain laced through the hem at the waistband. And they have one more addition that panties don't. They have a plastic cup in the crotch of them. It's about the same size, and shape, as a feminine pad. It's bowled down, too, so that it only touches the woman wearing it at the creases of her thighs, her bottom, and her pubes. It leaves every bit of her mound standing down into the open bowl.

I pull them on Christine. I pull both of the leg straps snug around her thighs. They're like zip ties, once I tighten them, they're only coming off if they're cut. I make sure they're too snug for Christine to get anything under them. Then I do the same with the chain at her waist. Once I have that snug around her body, I use a little padlock to hold it secure.

Now Christine's true suffering begins. With her pussy in that bowl, there's no way for her to get anything to it. Nor for her to grind it against anything. Nothing, not even her thighs, will be touching any part of her mound. It's just going to puff there in mid-air. No matter how badly she wants to touch it. She won't be able to do anything to it until I unlock these panties and allow her to.

Now I cut the rest of the plastic wrap. I help her to sit up by grabbing her hair and yanking hard. As soon as she's on her bottom, she probably feels the foam-lined edge of the cup under her pussy. Maybe she realizes what it means. Maybe not. I don't give her a chance to think about it. I snap for her to start behaving and get up to her feet.

I unlock her hands, reminding her to keep them behind her back. I'm sure that's a hard struggle for her. She's already starting to squeeze her thighs together and try to squirm and rub her mound with them. I hear the sudden frustration in her breaths as she realizes what the cup is doing there.

The public Christine is as conservative as she prim and reserved. Very. So I have an outfit for her. I start by handing her the skirt. It's a black silky, stretchy skirt that snugly hugs her body. It accents all of the curves and features of her body beneath it. And it is very short. It doesn't even cover her halfway from her bottom to her knees. Just her bottom and little more. She doesn't get anything under it. No stockings. No garter. Just the chastity panties that are only there to keep her from her pussy. Then I give her the top. It's a black and white flower print top. It's snug on her body, too, and silky. And just as minimalist. It covers a small swath of her skin, maybe beginning halfway between her navel and her breasts, then rising up to her breasts. It has little triangles shaped pieces rising up to cover most of her breasts. Then it has spaghetti straps. It leaves all of her bare from the breasts up. And most of her stomach bared as well. Then she gets a pair of black leather slip-on shoes with five-inched spiked heels. Bare feet go in them. Bare, slender legs rise from them.

It is a rather sexy, and slutty, outfit. It is something Christine would not want to be seen in. Ever. If I were to ask her, she'd tell me she's dressed like some gutter whore, not a woman. Thus it's the perfect outfit for lesson two tonight. She stands there, still trying to squish and squirm her pussy.