Evil

Reclamation of a Reluctant Sadist

Ah, a new toy!

What vision more lovely than a long legged, young blonde beauty, in the full bloom of ripe womanhood, strapped face up on a cold porcelain table with her ankles chained down two feet (my abject apologies, I did not mean to pun this early on) on either side of her beautifully flushed ears?

Her tear stained face quivered with anticipation of the unknown, for I had said not a word to her from the first meeting on the street this evening. My face was a mystery, shielded in white silk concealing even my eyes. The rest, alas, was vividly displayed and I believe the sight of my rather different and unique appendage contributed to her shocked nerves.

Her firm breasts seemed to reflect her mood most succinctly, shook wildly with the futile efforts to free the hands trapped neatly in the iron cuffs anchored securely beneath the edges of the table. The budding nipples, redly engorged, betrayed the subconscious desires she vehemently denied with strident demands for freedom.

The flat stomach proved her inexperience in the life, having yet to go flaccid from drugs and sloth. The firm flesh rippled over the gyrating muscles, the smooth back arched up from the chilled, white-fired clay. Each upward thrust tipped her wide spread, blonde muff (ah, yes! A True Blonde. So hard to find these days.) up toward my eager eyes. Plump labia, tiny clitoris, hint of wet, pink vagina! I long for thy agony. And below! Oh, yes! That perfect, pink, tightly clenched rectal pucker. That secret place which contains the ultimate, searing pleasure for every woman, no matter the size, shape, color or belief to the contrary. The one place that even experience can never prepare for what I had come to demand from all who entered my world.

My appendage, a marvel of evolutionary engineering, rose high, eagerly betraying the excitement frothing beneath my cool and clinical exterior. Her body was the exact duplicate of the first, the one who's fear led me onto this tortuous path of pain and dominance.

Oh, yes, it is a differently forged tool. To satisfy your curiosity I will describe it for you. It is, of course, long. Ten inches long and curved downward like an English longbow. In itself that should not be enough to drag fear from the depths of womanhood and it is not. It is thick, overly rotund with a circumference of six inches at the head and flaring back to a ten-inch base. But, in the middle of that curve is a one-inch long ring of extra girth, expanding that section to twelve inches in total. This is not all. The head curves up, the skin dark and almost scaly in texture. Green veins thickly enwrap the girth and length with surrealistic intent. Its' massiveness needs no aid to stand triumphantly, horizontally extended from the thick, tightly curled, black hair at the base. For all that, the sensitivity of the organ is heightened beyond that of normal men. In short, I am huge and I am considered grotesque.

That first female, when I was at the tender but fully developed age of fifteen, let me know, without room for doubt, that no woman would ever relish my attentions. I was crushed and unable to perform for the whore, the money paid was wasted and I spent the next three years in silent, anguished solitude, neither dating the high school girls who, at any rate, found my features repugnant without exposure to the grotesque organ concealed from common view, nor seeking out the prostitutes that crawled through the underbelly of our city.

I festered. I yearned. My sensitive nature hardened and I took out my frustrations on myself. I abused that appendage. I tried to destroy it as I sought pleasure from it. I inserted it in my own orifice, sparing myself no agony, and learned of the root of the fear the whore had so unprofessionally exhibited. I found a fount of pleasure within the pain. I changed. I determined to bring all to womanhood the dark secrets of my imagination and my lust. For all of a decade I did make that attempt.

My young dear was ready. Exhausted from her battle for freedom. Voice hoarse from fruitless excess. Stomach muscles quivering with futile effort. Sweat pooling in her naval. The perfumed nectar oozing from her vagina, an evocative betrayal of deep-seated need. Beauteous bung unfolding delicate leaves from the tightly clenched bud of terror. Oh, yes, she was ready.

I unmasked! To stand proudly before her with the surgeon's skill dispelling her slightly less intense fear that more than my appendage would appear monstrous. The pain of that reconstruction had provided no hidden depths of pleasure. In fact, the drain on my limited resources was somewhat concerning.

Was this transformation of Nature's curse worth it? Certainly.

You might think that to allow my darling victim full view of her tormentor would be suicidal. You might conclude that my personal safety would require the ultimate cruelty, ending in the final kindness of dispatch from her worldly woes. Oh, not so! There is method to my madness and all comes out well in the end (twice punned, my apologies).

I used no tools of torture in pursuit of my pleasures. No leather whips to welt and rip and mar the lovely surface of smooth skin. No metal utensils to tweak and twist and cut into the perfectly tuned body lying helpless before me. Such crudity was not to my purpose. I worshipped the loveliness of the female form. It is the miserly soul of Woman as judge of Man that I wish to reach with my ministrations. I possess the perfectly designed provider of pain, an imaginative organ of agony, and need no further aid.

My sweetness was ready, as was I. I began!

I moved to the head of the table. A strap of velvet around her forehead ended in hooks on either side. She was unable to escape my attentions. Did I mention that I am tall, of a height to complement the length of my manhood? Did I mention that my physique was also an indication of the diameter of that worthy attachment? Oh, yes! I am tall and I am broad and I am thick and I am powerful. I radiate danger from the dark hair covering my torso, merging into my pubic region and coating my buttocks and legs.

I approached and the fear began to work it's magic on her body. I smiled kindly, knowing the chilling effect. I used the thumb and forefinger of each hand to pry open her eyelids, denying her desire to shut them against the sight of me. I dangled my pride over her sweet face. I rubbed the length along the tip of her nose. I touched the tip to her wide open eyes and let the fluid beaded there wet her eyes, relieving the dryness. The salt burned slightly and her tears flowed anew. I touched not her lips. She would not taste of me yet!

I amused myself at length, rubbing my throbbing member against all parts of her face, occasionally repeating the artificial blink my fingers would not allow. My massiveness quivered with building excitement. I would soon obtain the first of tonight's promised releases.

I placed myself on my knees on either side of her head, facing forward. I reached back to spread my taut-cheeked buttocks and lowered my own excited pucker to her waiting nose. As the tip touched that hirsute bud she gasped with the smell. As a special treat for my lovely I forsook to cleanse myself that day. Slowly, slowly, I pressed tighter onto her until the tip penetrated the slightest bit. There I rested while treating her nipples to a savage tweaking, sparing not my sharpened nails, and rubbing my rough skinned tool with the soft skin of her inner breasts.

I soon felt the pressure move from my sack up through my shaft. It was agony to me. Another of the benefits that nature saw fit to inflict through her thoughtless design was a tightly constricted tube and opening. Relieving myself of both semen and urine was always painful. I relished it.

I turned and faced my sweet. The tip of her pert nose was brown with a dye of my own manufacture. I rubbed the tip of my appendage on the tip of her nose and slowly lowered it to her left nostril. I inserted, gradually widening the orifice until it seemed about to tear. Even so, only the leaking opening at the tip of that massive shaft was covered. The most satisfying scream issued from my beloveds lips, spewing a most warm spray of moisture along the underside of my manhood. The burning tip of her tongue lashed against the moistened surface to speed the building pressure to release and the first gushes of my thick fluid spurted deeply into her sinus. I quickly squeezed the base of my pulsing power in my hand and brought the tip to her other nostril into which I jammed the slime coated head with no mercy. I let go the constriction, which was causing me no small pain, and gushed another dollop of love's lubricant. The hot fluid leaked out of her nostrils. Her eyes released tears as if such would ease the burn. I relished her discomfort. I once again closed tight the valve of release and rose up. Quickly, before her gaping jaws chanced to constrict the opening to her tender interior, I rammed past her lips, scraped tightly past her perfect, white teeth, slipped speedily along her stiffened tongue and lodged deeply into her throat. I let loose once more of my fountain and filled her with pulsing ejaculations of thick, salty ooze.

She choked and sputtered and arched up against me. My buttocks mashed down onto her breasts, one to each. I stroked the half of my pleasure rod that protruded from her mouth, milking the last of the drips out the tip. She had, to her credit, swallowed every drop, so that none bubbled out from her wide stretched lips. Those lips were not visible underneath the wide ring of muscle and flesh at the middle of my length. The flow ceased and the spasms eased yet, I remained fully tumescent. I would remain so for hours, another "gift", and would expend myself repeatedly upon the delicate sensibilities of my new-found love.

I rocked back and forth, cruelly using her breasts and causing much anguish with my efforts. As I did so my member made continuous contact, with some force, with her sorely stretched throat. Her swallows at my intrusions were quite pleasant and I continued to use her thusly for some time.

At last, tiring of my knees bent in cold contact with the table I withdrew. Letting my full and not inconsiderable weight rest fully on her breasts I slid backwards. My movements caused her abused mammaries to pull mightily at their mountings and her, now unbridled, screams of pain expressed her fear that they would tear loose altogether. Of course, there was no danger of that. I have made clear that none of my ministrations would cause permanent damage. Her nipples slid out from beneath me and her breasts snapped back into place to quiver, jelly like and quite red in color. My weight was, at this point, full on her stomach and even that firmness could not hold me. Her throaty cries of affection were soon stifled for lack of air as I continued my journey. Having arrived at the juncture of hips and torso my progress was stopped with my thighs trapped lovingly under hers.

I move forward once more, tracking her unblemished exterior with the remaining moisture oozing from my member. Free from her tender embrace I removed myself from her and the table to stand by her side. My hands freely caressed those tender areas that bore some slight marking from the stiff hair that had scraped along them. She was breathing normally again, at least through her mouth. Her nostrils were still dripping the goo I had injected into them. I took a tissue and held it gently to her, allowing her to clear the passages. Her eyes flickered briefly with dumb gratitude as she opened her mouth to speak some word of affectionate acknowledgment for my kindness. That was not to be as I took the sodden tissue and stuffed it between her lips. Working her shapely jaws with my own two hands I forced her to masticate and swallow that slip from a tree's murdered soul. She gasped and choked it down. I smiled gently into her stricken countenance.

I slapped her hard on the lips with my bulging protuberance and delighted in her shock as the swelling began.

But, there was much to do and even though time was on my side I had no desire to unduly prolong her curiosity as to my next actions.

I believe at the beginning I mentioned a new toy. The woman was new, of course, but not a toy by any means. Rather, she was an elastic receptacle, a vessel to contain my desires, to expand with my will. I had invented and built one small piece of hardware. It was designed to facilitate a certain condition that normally required the use of at least one hand and I found that the restriction chafed at my pleasure.

Hence, I had taken six medium sized alligator clips and attached three each to two four inch lengths of gold chain. Attached to the middle of each chain was a length of heavier gold chain with a ring on the end. Do you begin to see the application? It shall be my pleasure to describe it to you.

I approached the playing field so deliciously exposed to my games and began to clip her labia firmly and, to judge from her reaction, painfully. Finishing with both sides of her vertical lips I grasped the far ends of each chain and pulled to each side until the rings slipped over the hooks attached to the table for the purpose. As some small effort was required to attain that goal I was greeted with vociferous cheering from my beloved, as the strong spring of the clips forced the teeth deeply into her tender surface. I was gratified to see such a reception to my ingenuity.

Now was the time to engage in earnest intercourse and quickly, as my engorged appendage required further stimulation. Forthwith I brought it to the gate wide open before me and plunged without warning, or consideration for her more tender emotions, to the hilt in her resisting but, no less accommodating, vaginal passage. Ah, sweet, sweet the yowls and writhings that accompanied my entry. How excruciatingly pleasant to pound down to the end of that tunnel and feel the cervical membrane stretch to allow my further intrusion. I withdrew as rapidly as I had entered. She gasped with relief and her juices oozed out of her along with the tears of pain. She had dribbled an endearing gob of saliva onto her chin. I re-entered with much gusto and leaned forward. My accoutrement levered against the top of her vagina, pressing into her clitoris, the rough skin titillating that organ. I continued, resting my chest against her breasts, painfully flattening them, and reached out with the tip of my tongue to cleanse her defiant little chin of its' irritating moisture. I was not without sympathy, you see.

But alas, my efforts at comfort did seem as poor as that. My massive member ground deeply into her. The thick base forced it's way to her embrace and the middle ring of flesh was trapped hard within the walls of her femininity. Her eyes clenched tightly shut as she fought to stifle the moans of agony issuing from her lips and her body arched against mine in an effort to dislodge and dismount me. I obliged by raising myself up, using my hands on her breasts, and once again withdrew my membership from her exclusive club. My slime coated prick (I know that until now my language has remained clinically Victorian but, I'm afraid that a certain crudity of form will be necessary in order to adequately convey the depth of sensation and emotion that was to engulf us both) bounced triumphantly into the air, cooling in the atmosphere of deprivation from her hot cunt. It would have to wait a bit longer for re-admission.

I took her clit between my thumb and forefinger, noticing that there was some slight trace of blood around the teeth of the clips that so firmly maintained her toothless smile. Some slight tearing had occurred from the twelve-inch part of my entertainingly different prick stretching her slightly beyond reason. That was to be regretted, but not sufficient to end this delicious attack. I squeezed hard on her nub and again solicited a gratifying verbal response. This prompted me to re-introduce her to the pain of my odd-shaped and outsized appendage and I did so with little delay. She seemed less inclined to resent my attentions this time. In fact her reaction seemed to indicate a developing fondness for my presence and somewhat too soon for my purposes.

I pounded into her as rapidly as my thrusting hips would allow. The friction soon eliminated the natural lubrication that had eased my earlier efforts. When the motion had become painful to both of us, my rampant prick scraping roughly along the walls of her cunt, I pulled out of her. She had retreated to a place inside herself that hid the reality of her predicament and I must find some means to allow her entry to a conscious appreciation of my affections.

I knelt down and took her clit between my strong teeth and bit down hard, shaking my head and grinding the tiny nub mercilessly. She did then regain awareness and reacted with my hoped for intensity. I loosed her from my mouth and placed my fist against her tortured passage and pushed mightily. As I entered her I twisted, pulling the dry flesh of her vaginal passage in a manner most suitably annoying to her. I continued my entry until my fist was thoroughly encased. As the size of my fist was somewhat larger than nature had designed the tunnel to accommodate, my desired one was experiencing the requisite amount of agony and made no attempt to hide her discomfiture.

My pulsing member was demanding attention. I pulled sharply back and out of her grasping hole and wasted no time in replacing my fist with my eager and misshapen prick. Her hole snapped tightly around me as I began to methodically thrust my full length in and out of her aching pussy. As no lubricating juices had secreted themselves to her defense her dry, hot tunnel was receiving all the benefit of my unique covering. She remained in control of her senses throughout this onslaught and as the pain began it's crescendo to the goal I had set for this portion of our symphony of pleasure I, too gave rise to that intense completion of our copulatory efforts.

Spent once again, I removed my rampant organ from hers. I was somewhat surprised but not altogether displeased, by her own attainments from my attentions. She had achieved that plateau of pain where pleasure rides triumphant to smite down all unpleasant sensations, assuring an emotional, as well as physical, release.

She had accomplished this with only two thirds of our journey together behind us, yet I knew that levels of agony unrealized were still in store.

While she lay spent and shaking from the intensity of her feelings I felt that I should strike while the iron was hot, so to speak.

I took a waiting towel and wiped my rock hard prick of the memories of spent pleasures. Grasping the base firmly I lined the head up with the next object of my desires and punched it quickly and authoritatively into my love's puckered bung.

This action, as you may imagine, garnered heretofore unattained levels of response from my darling. Un-necessarily cruel, you say. Beyond the bounds of acceptable levels of sadism, you cry, attempting to stifle your own luridly sympathetic response as you imagine the indescribable pleasure I felt upon entry to that tightest, driest, white-hot cavity. Oh, the flesh that pulled and tore. Oh, the bright-red elixir of life that seeped from both of our abused selves, that did coat and provide some measure of ease to the parched desert of her posterior entrance. I pounded deeper. I reveled in glorious fulfillment as the tender ring surrounding my organ of desire crushed through the tender ring of her blushing acceptance in a delightful parody of the exchange of lasting vows.

I almost swooned as the base of my dark desire filled her, stretched her, split her in twain. She rallied and fought mightily to shore up my breach. She played into my hands as she failed to realize that her efforts at defense only exacerbated her intense agony and intensified my enjoyment of the battle. She thrashed and screamed until her throat produced naught but a weak croaking sound. I pulled out and out against the sucking pressure of her anal walls. Out into the light of day and she screamed anew as her night-blooming flower snapped tight after gaping widely to the light (thereby giving the lie to an old phrase) for fleeting seconds after my withdrawal.