Master of the Universe Ch. 03

Laura twirled the alligator clip in front of his eyes and drew it down slowly across his nose. Harry's eyes again widened in fear as he tried to focus on the clip, nearly crossing his eyes in the attempt. Harry looked up her icy blue eyes locked onto his and the grim set of her lips and knew his trouble was just beginning.

She's not bluffing. This crazy bitch is just looking for an excuse to snuff me. Don't give her one. Just do everything she says. There'll be an opening later. They'll make a mistake and I'll be ready. Meanwhile, just hang on, he repeated to himself in his mind.

Madison and Shanella got down from the table and walked back behind Harry's head, out of his field of vision.

My Ling remained straddling his belly, the smooth palmed, left gloved hand still tightly wrapped around his scrotum above his balls causing his nuts to turn first red, then a deeper shade of red and finally an angry purple. She was smiling, enjoying herself, occasionally shaking her left hand to see how the stretched balls reacted. She rested the palm of her needle studded right hand lightly on his shaved pubic area just above his limp dick.

Madison and Shanella busied themselves with a coil of three quarter inch, nylon rope behind the cylinders.

As Dr. Jansen teased Harry by lowering her pussy to his gagged mouth and brushing it lightly around his lips, Madison and Shanella measured out lengths of rope, coiling a few turns around the center of each cylinder and tossing the remainder of the rope on the floor behind it.

The cylinder was flanged at the top and the bottom so once coiled around it, the rope would not slip off in either direction. They each took the measured part of their ropes, passed the end through a pad eye at their respective corners of the table, ran it down the length of the table on each side and, holding it by the ring embedded at the end, attached it with a double ended snap clip to the cuffs buckled just above Harry's knees.

Dr. Jansen continued to tease and tickle Harry with her pubic hair, drawing it slowly over his mouth and nose and grazing the sides of his face with her smooth, nylon sheathed thighs.

Madison and Shanella returned to their cylinders and, with a slight nod by the doctor, flipped a switch. Harry heard a low, almost imperceptible hum as both women stepped back behind the cylinders and picked up the part of the rope on the floor behind the cylinders. The cylinders started to turn.

Madison and Shanella gripped their ropes with both hands and eased back on them, drawing back the additional length of rope produced by the turning cylinders. Harry looked up at the mirror above him and realized that the cylinders were electric winches and they were slowly turning, drawing the slack out of the ropes attached to Harry's thigh cuffs. With four turns around each winch there was no slippage.

The winches inexorably hauled in the lines, removing the slack first. With all of the slack gone, Harry felt a firm tug on each thigh, just above the knee, building to a hard tug as his knees were slowly drawn back and out, towards the corner pad eyes through which the rope ran to each winch.

Dr. Jansen smiled down at Harry and grinned her broadest smile yet as she saw the horror register on Harry's face as his legs were slowly being drawn back; the collars holding the rings to which his ankles were attached having been loosened to allow them to slide back as the winch pulled Harry's legs back.

"That's it Harry, be a good little boy while your own Dr. Laura brings your nice, chubby little legs up. There's nothing you can do about it anyway - those winches are much stronger than your puny muscles and, those muscles don't work very well without air, now do they Harry," she said.

A loud peal of laughter exploded from her lips as she tilted her head up to enjoy the sight in the ceiling mirror of Harry's knees slowly moving towards her. As Harry's knees were drawn back and out by the winches, the rings holding his ankles to the lengthwise rods slowly slid back along the rails, keeping his legs widely stretched apart as they were being drawn back.

Oh god, Oh God, OH GOD!, what are they doing to me. I'm being twisted and folding like a pretzel. Are they going to break me in half? Tear me apart with those winches?! I'm helpless, . . can't do a thing. How far are they going to pull my legs? How Far?! What are those fucking bitches doing to me! They can't get away with this; can't, . . . can't. Won't

let them. Please stop, PLEASE STOP IT! His mind screamed in protest as nothing but a muffled groan escaped his gagged mouth.

Harry started feeling the pressure on his lower back as his legs were drawn past his waist, then up his torso towards his chest. He also felt immediate, painful pressure on the insides of his thighs as his already widely stretched legs were being pulled further apart as his legs were drawn back, out and down towards the corners of the table.

Harry grimaced in pain as his hip joints and lower back creaked and cracked as the irresistible force of the winches pulled bones, joints and muscles to it whether they wanted to go that way or not. The pain became nearly unbearable as his knees were slowly drawn back and back and back like some horrible mediaeval torture. Dr. Jansen watched his face from above and smiled, delighted with every grimace.

Harry started to shake uncontrollably and scream in pain, screams muffled almost completely by the ball gag stuffed in his mouth, just as the winches stopped.

There were tears in Harry's eyes, tears of pain, tears of fear and tears of gratitude for being spared. They leaked from the corners of his eyes and rolled down the sides of his head. He looked up at the doctor with a mixture of pleading and thanks, understanding fully for the first time that she dispensed pain and comfort, life and death with a slight nod of her head; that he was entirely in her hands, dependent totally on her beneficence.

He was breathing rapidly, chest heaving and he was covered in a thin sheen of perpiration. His body continued to shake, partly in fear and partly from the pain of the physical assault on his muscles and joints. Harry's cool, rational, thinking process was almost gone now. He was in reflex mode as he strained against his bonds and looked up to Dr. Jansen waiting for the next command.

End of Part 3