by Argus, JJ
He stopped, and my breasts throbbed on the other side of the frame. A moment later he appeared around the other side once more. He examined me, then reached between my legs, feeling the base of the wooden penis where it impaled me.
He was carrying a short crop, much like those had seen before, save it held a soft wide flat tip. He used the crop on my buttocks now, the narrow flexible body of it striking across my bottom harshly, causing me to jerk against the frame and cry out. He smiled at this, then pressed his body against me. I felt his trousers drop and his manhood spring upwards, its warmth sliding along my inner thigh.
He forced my legs apart, which brought me down harder on the wooden penis and pulled at my breasts. Then he forced himself against my anus, jamming the hard, knobby head of his penis forward until he was able to force my sphincter muscle apart and enter me. He thrust himself in and up with hard, short little jabbing strokes that sent his hard penis climbing higher and higher into my body, and soon his hips were pressing flat against my buttocks as he gripped either side of the frame and ground his body against me.
The frame was not a great deal wider than my body, and he slid his hands around it, able to cup my taut breasts easily, pinching my swollen nipples as he rolled his hips slowly, twisting his cock about within my anus. He whispered into my ear once again, soft words which were not, I was sure, flattering, then began to pump his hips in and out.
I was almost fully impaled upon the wooden penis now, and my clitoris ached as it was caught against that hard little bump. Yet worse was to come.
He reached above to the arm which hung from the top of the frame, swinging it down so that the long, thick wooden penis it held was against my mouth, then gripped my braided hair and forced my head back. He pulled the arm down further, until the wood was jammed against my lips. A moment later I tasted the hard wood as it filled my mouth. And then he pulled lower still, so that it entered my throat.
My throat ached as the wooden plug was forced through it, inch after inch sliding through my lips, over my tongue, and thence downwards into my throat. It was well over a foot in length, and pushed past my throat and into my very chest before my lips were crushed against the base of the arm holding it. At that point he used two straps, one to either side of the penis, and attached to the arm, to clip tightly to the sides of my collar and thus lock me in place.
He then focussed his attention on sodomising me, working his hips with more strength, his cock sliding in larger, more forceful strokes until his hips were pounding against my backside, crushing my pelvis against the frame. He reached around the frame once more, pinching and twisting my nipples, slapping at my sore, swollen breasts, then spreading his fingers wide to encompass them and squeezing them harshly as he pounded his erection up into my rectum.
I had long since mastered the ability to breath even while my throat was filled. However, the hardness of the wooden penis was far different from the softness of a man’s cock, which, however rigid, was far and away less bruising and uncomfortable. My throat began to ache terribly, and the variety of pains assaulting my body began to give me a slightly disembodied sensation so that I had the sudden dazed thought that the wooden penis was, in fact, all one piece, that I had been impaled literally, the hard wood thrusting straight up through my body and emerging from between my lips.
Oddly, this not only did not frighten me but a crackling sexual heat seemed to spread out through my body. Pinpricks of shock fluttered over my skin and my chest tightened to the point where breathing was even more difficult. I stared up at the wood which protruded from between my lips, imagining it the same wood which was jammed high into my belly, imagined myself spitted, skewered by its long length in the ultimate demonstration of cruelty.
My pelvis was jerking and grinding against the frame, against the hard penis inside, and against that awful bump which was rolling and pinching my clitoris, and my breasts continued to throb painfully. I moaned softly, getting cross-eyed as I stared at the wood above me, feeling the hard wood filling my throat and sliding down into my very chest.
Impaled. I was impaled. My mind swirled and tumbled, and I felt a sense of shocked delight at being so savagely wounded yet feeling so little pain. Impaled, I thought, impaled even as he sodomises me, even as his cock pounds into my body and his hands maul my breasts. A cruel man with no mercy to treat me so.
A climax welled up within me, a climax I thought surely would be my last in this life, and I imagined now that I could feel the thick round wooden post in my stomach, sliding up through my body and out of my mouth, imagined I were to be used so casually and then cast aside. I shuddered as I came, my pussy clenching repeatedly around the hard wood, my rectum squeezing down on his manhood as it thrust upwards again and again.
Sparkling lights filled the world above me, and I felt my vision swim, then fade.
* * * * *
I woke slowly, groaning as I stirred. I found that I lay upon the floor, and my captor, my tormentor, my new master, stood above me glancing down with an arrogant look of contempt.
I was rolled onto my belly, my sore breasts flattening beneath me, and my arms were pulled together behind my back. I was in a dazed, but still moaned weakly as I felt something heavy circling them just above the elbows and then drawing them forcefully back until the elbows were jammed together and my shoulders screamed.
He gripped my braided hair, dragging me along the floor to a small cage in a corner. The cage was no more than three feet in height and length, and perhaps half that wide. It was made of heavy iron bars going both vertically and horizontally and looked strong enough to hold a lion. He opened the side of this cage and used a firm grip on my hair to force me onto my knees and then inside.
He reached behind the cage and drew out a long thick metal bar, then thrust it lengthwise through the cage a foot or so below the top. A moment later my tightly bound arms were lifted up and over this bar, then folded down across it and bound in place. The side of the cage was locked into position, and I was left like that, with my bottom held high, my face pressed against the bottom of the cage, and my arms drawn back together and folded painfully up over the bar, where they were tied in place.
I stared out through the bars, still dazed, feeling only a little aroused now at being caged, at being treated like an animal. The discomfort in my arms and shoulders was intense, and growing worse with every minute of immobility.
Within minutes the pain was intense and I was sobbing against the bottom of the cage, tears spilling onto the rough wooden floor. Every movement brought sharp, jagged agony to my arms and shoulders. It was the kind of pain that a person that would drive a person mad within a short time, yet I could do nothing but endure. After an eternity my arms and shoulders became so numbed that the haze of pain dimmed and I was at last able to slow my breathing.
Yet long hours passed and I whimpered and moaned in my misery, wanting nothing but to be released from the unending pain.
I could not easily judge the passing of time in that place. But it did pass, and I became aware of movement in the room, my tormenter returned to view my agony. He opened my cage, unsnapped my arms and drew out the bar, and agony made my scream as my body finally moved. My shoulders shrieked as he roughly yanked me from the cage, and I babbled and sobbed and cried out again and again as he ignored my discomfort, and, heedless of my stiff, aching flesh, dragged me away from the cage to further his amusement.
He lifted me enough to then drop me belly down across the padded bar. My legs were spread wide and bound tightly with rough rope that pinned them to the legs of the bar at ankle, knee and thigh. He moved behind me and passed a rope below my body, then drew it upwards. There were two loops in the rope, and as he raised them so that my dangling breasts passed through them. He pulled on the ends, tightening the harsh rope, squeezing my breasts out as he had done earlier, forcing them into fat, hard balls of flesh before he tied the rope off behind my back.
Thinner cords were tied to my nipple rings, pulled down and
slid through a ring set into the floor there, then tugged sharply so that my nipples stretched, my areolas strained outwards and my breasts began to distend. Only then were the cords tired off. My head was raised up and my hair, still braided, was bound in cord and tied to a hook overhead, holding my face level.
He then fumbled free his erection and thrust it into my open mouth. I was too dazed to perform with any degree of expertise, and, indeed, had no time to even consider that I must before he had forced himself deep into my throat. From then there was no opportunity to practice the art which I had trained, for he used my mouth and throat roughly and crudely, his testicles swinging below as his hips worked, his skinny abdomen crushing my nose each time he drove his cock into me.
My head began to throb as he continued to thrust in and out and my vision began to fog. His abdomen continued to hammer against my face with painful and dizzying force, and I could do nothing but hope loss of consciousness would release me from my misery and pain.
Then he drew back, and his cock slipped out of my throat with an almost audible pop as he moved behind me. A moment later he was thrusting just as savagely into my pussy, his hands slapping at my buttocks, his hips hammering against my thighs as he drove his erection into my belly with deep, powerful strokes. He halted, pulling free, but I sensed this only belatedly, my mind dizzy and confused.
The whipcrack of noise arrived with new pain, and I realized, though I could not see behind me, that he was whipping my bottom. The pain was sharp but I was too grateful for the sweet air I was now gulping through my aching throat to pay it the attention I otherwise might have.
Soon my entire backside was afire, and this penetrated my thinking enough to make me moan and whimper, yet I could only bear it.
He halted his attack, and I felt him thrusting into me once again, using his erection like a weapon to stab savagely into my body. When he finished the light disappeared, and after a time i realized I was alone. My jaw was slack, my scalp aching. The pain surrounded me and tears trickled slowly down my cheeks.
My mind fogged as it had before, and once more the fog was cleared by the sharpness of noise and movement, by rough, uncaring hands untying the cord from my hair and releasing my nipples. I was lifted upright, though my legs were still bound straight and wide, and had a moment to observe my swollen breasts, almost purple with pain, before the rope was released.
The agony was indescribable. As the ropes pulled free, as the cruel pressure binding them released, they caught fire with returning blood and I screamed raggedly through my aching throat. My captor showed no sympathy whatever, slapping and fondling my breasts, snickering at my screaming, laughing as I thrashed madly in place.
He dragged me back to the cage and heaved me into it, but this time did not bind my arms up, but contented himself with merely closing the cage door and walking away. I curled up on my side as best I could, knees drawn up against my chest, trying to shake off the memory of the stinging in my scalp which had left me with a throbbing headache. My bottom ached terribly, but that was almost reassuring in its consistency. I knew from past experience it would soon ease.
My beasts continued to throb. They were quite hot and red and every movement made me wince and curse. Yet that pain too slowly eased, leaving only the continued discomfort in my shoulders. After a time, exhaustion brought an uneasy sleep. I wakened to see a bowl of water in my cage, and slurped it down eagerly, then lay down my head once more.
My shoulders ached less now, probably because they had simply gone numb, and I felt a little better. I looked out through the bars of my cage and wondered at what the immediate future held in store. This place was so far outside what I had thus far experienced I had no way to accurately predict, though I strongly suspected further punishments were my fate. I had never before been punished merely for the sadistic satisfaction of my master. Always before it had been to teach or punish me. This left me with the worrying thought that every day might bring fresh pain and misery so long as I was in this dreadful place.
Yet there was no appeal, and certainly no escape, not bound and caged as I was.
Caged. What manner of man would put a girl in a cage anyway? What kind of satisfaction did he gain from seeing me locked up in this way? I found myself reliving my times in China and wishing I could return there. I wondered what the girls were doing now, what my daughter was doing. Would she grow up to be caged and abused in a similar fashion? I was sure she would learn discipline and be used, as I was, but I hoped she avoided this kind of fate.
I managed to sit up, though my head was pressed against the bars, and looked out into the room once more, staring at the various frames and wondering to which I would be guided when my new master came for me once again. There were any number which he had not used, some of which had purposes I could only guess. Why couldn't this man simply enjoy my body as others had? What need had he to give me pain and discomfort?
That was, I realized, a pointless question. He gained pleasure from my pain. This meant I would be given more pain, until, perhaps, I reached that point where my body, or perhaps, my mind, could no longer endure it.
Was I to be tortured to death or madness by this nasty little man? I recalled my feelings of impalement from the previous session, and felt stirring in my loins once again at the thought. I pictured myself impaled in that manner, displayed to all, the perfect picture of a poor, naked girl brutalized and mistreated. How sad, and yet erotic I would seem to be such a helpless victim of cruelty and evil.
My stomach grumbled and I felt a small wave of butterflies take flight within. I had not eaten since arriving in this city, and barely drank, for that matter. Surely my captor did not intend me to die of such a mundane means. Surely my death would be accomplished through some grand and terrible punishment which would shock any who heard of it, some sinister, terribly perverse torture which would make men's cocks throb and womens' nipples tighten within the cups of their bras.
The door opened and he entered, and my heart began to beat more strongly. I felt my nipples quiver lightly, still swollen from his earlier attentions. My breasts were still pinkish, the skin sensitive to even the breath of air.
He approached the cage, smirking, then opened the door and reached in, taking my hair, still in its braid, causing me to curse mentally at myself for ever tying it back into such a convenient hand hold.
He spoke to me, whispering, cooing into my ear, his voice an eager, excited sniggering thing as he half dragged towards the simple frame to the left.
This frame consisted of a thick, heavy post which rose from the floor. A horizontal steel bar perhaps two feet long was attached to one side of the post near the top. A pair of shackles were bound to each end. Another steel bar, this one vertical, and perhaps a foot long, rose straight upwards from the centre of the post, and a length of wood rested upon it. This wood was no more than a foot in length, polished, and set on its edge so that the top surface was no more than an inch wide.
I was dragged to this and through curses and brute force was made to straddle the narrow length of wood at its top. I was just able to do this while on my toes, though the thin wood pressed up against my sex so that it forced apart my soft labia and was driven up between. A moment later loose shackles were chained to my ankles to ensure I did not dismount. There were two tall, narrow posts in front of and to the rear of me, and after my rings were replaced, my tormentor bound narrow cords to all three, attaching them to the post before me.
Above me, unseen until then, was a hook, and dangling from that hook was a long length of thick chain. He drew the chain downwards directly above my head, then, to my surprise, wrapped it around my neck, and clipped it into place. He smirked at me a moment, and then left me alone once more.
This seemed entirely too simple to me, and I looked about nervously for the source of the pain I was surely expected to receive. It took surprisingly little time for understanding to dawn, as my toes grew weaker and I was forced to drop more and more weight onto the thin edged w
ood I was straddling. As I did so the chain about my neck pulled in more tightly. It did not make breathing difficult, but it was apparent that any significant movement on my part, such as falling off one side or another, would cause me to choke.
The pressure of the wood against my sex was painful and bruising, and I shifted my weight frequently in an effort to ease the pressure and pain. This only caused my entire groin to soon throb with soreness, and as I attempted to lean backwards my tailbone was soon aching as well. The wood jammed upwards towards my clitoris, as well, but though that ached slightly, it did not produce any real discomfort except in the sense that my body was beginning to respond to that darkness within my mind.
I do not know what part of me thought eroticism might be attached to my position. As I have earlier explained, I had found within myself a degree of submissiveness and masochism, a hungering for abuse and outrageous treatment. This punishment, so obviously focussed on abusing my sex itself, seemed to me to be a particularly shameful thing to do to a girl, and that inspired the darkness in my soul and the feverish deviance which was now a part of me.
I eased forward slightly to ease the pull on my clitoris and nipples, as I was unable to take very much weight off my pussy I could feel it sliding heavily along the cool wood, could feel the narrow, rounded edge sawing along my bruised, aching flesh between my pubic lips. The pain sent a shudder through my body, for it held the seeds of unnatural pleasure with it. I found myself easing up on the muscles of my thighs and legs, almost unconsciously allowing more weight to fall on my sex, doing this with a soft, repeated flexing of muscles so that the wood seemed to be jabbing heavily against my groin.
I slid slowly forward again, gasping as the chain pulled in more tightly around my neck, gasping as well when my throbbing pussy slid along the wood. I eased back, and again the wood sawed along my sex. But I was growing rapidly more aroused now. And as I slid further back I watched the cords tighten against my rings, and felt a growing sting from my clitoris and nipples.