Razorwire Roses Pt. 03

The scene, with a few exceptions, was much the same as Paul had imagined it when Faith was with him in the hardware store. Inside a large, dark warehouse, a small area was harshly lit with work lights. Some were on tall stands, some on short feet, close to the filthy, littered floor.

Near the center of the glare, naked, bound and trussed was Faith. No longer blindfolded, the harsh light assailed her moist, green eyes. Her slim young body was covered in a glistening sheen of fear-sweat. Her red bangs stuck to her forehead and mascara streaked her cheeks.

Each of her pert, white breasts was tightly encircled by cord, squeezing and distending them so that they protruded obscenely from her chest, horrid red caricatures of bulging breasts.

Her hands were bound behind her back, plastic wire-ties binding her wrists. Several more of the ties bound her arms; one just below her elbows, one just above and another across her biceps, cinching her elbows together unnaturally and pulling her shoulders back painfully.

She straddled a sturdy but crudely constructed sawhorse. A rough-sawn timber that had been split diagonally down its length and laid with the narrow edge upward formed the triangular top rail of the sawhorse. All of her weight rested squarely on her genitals, the coarse vee of lumber pushing up inside her, the rough wood edge rasping and grinding against tender flesh that was never meant to endure such treatment.

Directly beneath her buttocks a square hole penetrated the rough lumber rail of the sawhorse, deliberately cut there for her future torment.

Paul pinned her knees to the sawhorse with nylon cable ties and pulled her feet up near her pale round buttocks. As he secured her ankles there with cable ties, her crotch felt as though it were being split open, and pain exploded inside her, and clawing its way through her entire body and superimposing itself over her consciousness.

Her vision clouded and she gasped for breath as the pain threatened to overwhelm her. She tried without success to push her pain into the background, panting and moaning as she fought to remain conscious.

Suddenly, a new pain replaced the blinding pain radiating from her genitals, an abrupt, intense pain that exploded from the tips of her breasts and engulfed her completely. Paul had attached locking-jaw pliers to her soft, rosey nipples and the serrated metal teeth of the tools bit cruelly into her tender flesh. Her slightest movement caused the misused tools to swing and sway, twisting and tugging at her nipples. The pain was so complete that she feared her nipples would be torn away, leaving her young breasts disfigured and useless.

Paul stepped close to her and grasped a handful of her soft red hair, holding her upright, preventing her from slumping over and passing out.

He pressed a large round brass bell firmly into one of her open palms and instructed her, "Hold on to this at all times. If you release it, I'll immediately stop whatever I'm doing. I'll give you the opportunity to either continue what you're experiencing or move on to something else. It's not a panic button, and it won't end our little session here today. If you use it and choose to move on to something else, it will certainly be more difficult to endure than what you have been experiencing, so choose wisely."

Paul stepped in front of her, holding a square steel bar, about 30cm on all sides, and about 16 in long. Faith's eyes widened as he held it in front of her, stroking up and down it's length with his cupped hand. Something about the way he held the piece of metal stock as he paced back and forth in front of her, stirred within her deep feelings of nausea and dread and she shuddered, causing the cruel hand tools clamped on her nipples to twist and sway.

She saw his eyes turn to her abused nipples and watched a small, taut smile spread across his face as he contemplated the pain she was experiencing. He reached out and prodded her bound,distended breasts with the steel bar, then used it to lift and push the pliers from side to side. Metal clanked against metal and Faith struggled to fight back tears as Paul smacked at the tools which swung from her tortured nipples, the serrated clamps biting into her mutilated teats.

The pain in her nipples was intense and despite her efforts otherwise, tears welled up and streamed down her cheeks and across her lips, mixing with the stream of saliva that trailed from her open mouth and down her chin, dripping down onto her tightly bound bosom.

With a dry chuckle, Paul stopped tormenting her breasts, stepping back and once again holding the steel bar in one hand while sliding his other up and down its length.

"I think this here," he said, nodding at the steel bar, "is a lot like me. Hard to fit in. A square peg in a round hole, as they say. That's what everyone says about me."

He knelt next to the sawhorse and continued,"They're right, I guess. I just don't seem to fit in. Always going against the grain. Up the down staircase, in the out exit, you know?"

She tried to force the word "No" past the round ring that held her mouth wide open, wanting him to understand that she wasn't like all the others. But the ring gag that spread her pretty pink lips into an obscene 'O' of soft flesh made the words come out as unintelligible grunts.

She shook her head from side to side so violently that the pliers locked onto her nipples began to sway and twist again. He ignored her, turning to some unseen task below the sawhorse on which she was perched. She realized that that the clamping pliers dangling from her raw, red nipples somehow seemed to hurt her less than before as they swung from her punished flesh. She was aware of an unexpected feeling growing in inside her, and her face became flushed and red.

Paul looked up from his task and saw that the skin trapped in the metal jaws of the tools was fiery red, and that her areolas were crimson and swollen. He noticed something else, too. She was flushed from her neck up to her cheeks. Her skin had a delightful brightness and her eyes were no longer glazed with fear.

He moved to the front of the sawhorse where he could see between her legs and confirm what they both suspected.

She was becoming aroused. She was bound, with her breasts and genitals horribly tormented, but the signs of sexual arousal were unmistakable to them both.

Paul nodded slowly as he stood, and he leaned close to her, speaking softly into her ear as he stroked her soft, flowing hair.

"No, you're not like all the others," he said. "I knew when you came into my store that you were different from the rest."

He moved his face directly in front of hers, looking into her moist, pretty eyes and idly caressing her red, swollen breasts as he calmly spoke. "The others were finished by this point. Their bell was rung, and they were unconscious with fear and pain. And that's no way to act when someone is just trying to have a little fun, is it?"

"You can take it, though. I knew you could. And now we're starting to enjoy ourselves, aren't we?"

She turned her eyes downward and watched him move his hands slowly over her breasts, his fingers tracing along the cords that encircled and distorted them. He moved his hands to the tools clamped onto her nipples and gently pulled them toward him.

She raised her eyes back to his, then slowly closed them and moaned softly. When she reopened them her eyes sparkled with lust.

"That's nice, Faith. Very Nice. Keep a firm hold on that bell of yours." He twisted her nipples slowly slowly as he asked, "With your permission then, we'll continue?"

Paul turned and bent to the task he'd been working on at the base of the sawhorse while Faith straddled the cruel device, waiting for whatever it was that Paul had planned for her.