by Dan Bruce
Yuri brought the whip handle back to the front as he said this and forced the end into Vicky’s sex. He slid it in, her juices easing the path, and fucked her gently for a moment, telling her with his eyes as he stared her in the face that this was the sort of consideration he meant. Due warning was then given when he finished with a hard plunge that had Vicky gasping in frightened shock – the other side of the coin he could flick, and one that was best not provoked. Then he removed the improvised dildo and stood further to Vicky’s side, bringing the handle of his whip up to her nose to smear the prisoner’s nostrils with her own juices before draping it back over his shoulder.
A moment later, Yuri’s bare-chested nephew was kneeling before their victim. Dimitri took his time before setting about his task, savouring the sight of Vicky’s naked pussy, caressing the lips with his fingers and probing her sex that had just been violated by an instrument of torture. Having absorbed the beauty with his eyes again, he reminded his taste buds of the woman’s flavour with a lingering lap at her juicy snatch, trailing his tongue through the drizzling lips, finishing at her clit which he gave a deftly flick. Having shown her his sample of the pleasurable aspects of life in bondage, Dimitri then embarked on the less agreeable side. He selected two small crocodile clamps with nasty jagged teeth and secured them, one on each side of Vicky’s vulva, gripping the folds of her labia. Vicky let out an agonised groan as the clamps pinched her tender puffy flesh – the pain all the worse for having been earlier aroused. These Karinov men really knew what they were doing – poor Vicky didn’t stand a chance!
“Is that painful, Miss Fullerton?” asked Yuri. “Do you wish me to order a halt to the proceedings? A simple act of confession will suffice, and of course a request for me to fuck your lovely ass.”
“Fuck your own ass, bastard! Or get pretty boy here to do it for you.”
“Dear, dear!” mocked Yuri, enjoying himself enormously. “Such unbecoming language... Dimitri, the foul mouthed tramp wishes for you to continue. I believe she has taken a liking to what you are doing.”
Dimitri was delighted at the woman’s obstinacy - it would mean he could torture her all the more. He hated it when they caved in too easily. Smiling to himself, Dimitri fastened a chain with a hook at the end to each of the clamps. The extra weight made Vicky groan again as her labia were stretched and pulled downward. Then to each hook, Dimitri added a small weighted ring, pulling on the chains and in turn pulling on the clamps, stretching Vicky’s labia further, making her groan with the increasing pain. She struggled for a moment to change her position in a futile attempt to escape the agony, but the movement only made things worse, swaying the chains and pulling on her labia even further.
“Are you trying to stimulate yourself, Miss Fullerton?” asked a mocking chief of police. “Are you taking pleasure from this supposed punishment? That will never do! Dimitri, the slut is enjoying herself! Add more weight!”
Dimitri happily added another weighted ring to each hook, stretching Vicky’s labia to an even more agonising degree. She let out a scream then clamped her mouth shut so as not to give these bastards the satisfaction of hearing her pain. Inspired by her cry, Dimitri added another weight and Vicky screamed again despite her determination to remain silent.
“Dimitri, I think another clamp is in order, don’t you?” suggested Yuri once the shrieking ended.
Dimitri let out a sadistic laugh. He knew exactly what his uncle intended. Eager to comply, he selected the smallest of his clamps, a spring one with padded jaws; then he parted Vicky’s already clamped labia and found her hooded clit. He flicked the little bud with the tip of his finger, coaxing it to harden for him then gently he attached the padded clamp to the flesh. He could hear from above him the sound of a deep throated groan – a woman’s questionable pleasure mingled with her definite pain. The process was then repeated – a chain with a hook and some weighted rings, pulling and stretching Vicky’s sensitive clitoris to the point where she was about to pass out.
Yuri Karinov had watched on, enjoying her suffering, and the battle she fought to control her screams. But as Dimitri continued with his work, Yuri could see Vicky’s growing distress and the black cloud that was threatening to smother her mind and take her temporarily beyond their torture. That was not something Yuri wished. The girl had more spirit than he had imagined. This would take more than just physical pain to bring her to subjugation.
“Dimitri! Remove the weights. Do so slowly. Let her recover a little.”
The nephew complied, saddened that this part of the torture was over and that the woman had not submitted to their will, but pleased even more that another phase would be required before any fucking took place. Dimitri liked to fuck the girls, he liked to fuck them a lot, but he liked to torture them even more.
But it was his uncle who now took over, a true expert in the art of inflicting pain, and Dimitri made way for him, the nephew always happy to watch and learn. Yuri Karinov allowed Vicky a few minutes to regain a degree of composure and for her body to acclimatise itself to the level of pain inflicted by the three clamps that remained un-weighted on her sex. Then when he was satisfied that his victim was ready to take more, he stood in front of Vicky and started on her tits.
There was no sudden move to inflict more torture - instead the chief went in the opposite direction. He selected her left breast to pleasure with his mouth and the right to caress with his hand. He licked and nipped the left nipple, and rubbed and pinched the right, finding a perfect balance of sensuality that had Vicky silently groaning in delight. Then to add to her pleasure, Yuri fingered her pussy, gently tapping on the clamps to send orgasmic-like shivers through her body.
For Vicky, it was such an infuriatingly delicious sensation to be worked on by a master of technique, after the agony she had endured at his command. She was helpless to resist him, bound and shackled as she was. She hated the man with a passion, yet that hatred could not suppress the arousal he elicited with his deftly work, which made her hate him all the more, and all the more responsive to his actions.
And there it was - the conundrum again. Plenty of men had pleasured her in the past, but never with her in such a submissive role, which somehow seemed to heighten the eroticism. And even more perversely, the pain she had been forced to endure in her cunt, the memory of which still lingered, somehow heighten the pleasure she took from Yuri’s despised, but sensuous work. Was this the life he threatened, Vicky had cause to wonder – was this extreme of stimulation one of the aspects he proposed by turning her into his sex slave. Would it be so bad to know such regular bliss, even if the price was slavery and pain?
Yes! Yes! Yes! Of course it was unacceptable – she could never agree to a deal like that. Determined to resist, Vicky tried to block it out, she tried to force the hate she felt and make it override all other things. But the more she fought – the more intense the mix of emotions and sensations became, and just as Yuri had done to her the day before, Vicky was being brought to a climax which she sorely resented, yet loved at the same time. Her mind was too awash with sensations to rationalise what was happening, but this punctuating of pain with pleasure, fanned by the flames of hate and desire, made the pleasure so much more intense. And sick as it was, nothing had ever aroused Vicky so much.
The chief of police knew exactly what he was doing, and understood what Vicky was going through. And it amused him to give such intensity of pleasure, but his reasons were a little more perverse. Pleasure and pain, they complimented each other so well. But not only did the pain make the pleasure more intense – it also worked the other way round. The bitch would suffer all the more when Yuri decided to flick the coin.
A master of control who had tamed countless women, Yuri moved from one breast to another, so that he feasted sensuously on them both with his mouth and caressed them both with his hands, all the while pleasuring her pussy with his other hand. Skilled as he was, it didn’t take long before he had Vicky groaning, despite her resolve to resist. Her deter
mination was admirable, but she was soon wilting under his surprising ability to pleasure a woman gently. Her skin became flushed and her cunt truly gushed, unable to deny its intense gratification. Yuri built her up with his tongue and his touch until Vicky was on the verge of massive climax – all the stronger for having tried to hold it back. He could sense that her whole body was about to explode. One hard bite at a nipple, one hard flick at her clit and the bitch would career over the edge.
It was then that Yuri Karinov backed away, leaving her teetering without pushing her over.
Vicky looked at him, she was gasping, her carnal hunger etched undeniably on her face; then in an instant her expression turned to one of pure fury. The bastard had brought her right to the edge, her cunt was bloated and drizzling despite the agony of its clamps. She hated the bastard, but he drove her wild, and she was desperate to be finished off. And now he was staring at her, smirking with self-satisfied glee – so sure of himself and the arousal he had caused. Vicky’s loathing of the chief increased by a magnitude untold, her eyes burned with molten rage for the humiliation he was pouring down on her defenceless manipulated body.
“Shall I fuck you now, Miss Fullerton?” taunted Yuri. “I know your cunt is ready for my cock, but what about your ass, because that’s what you must give? Would you like me to put my cock inside it? Let me hear you say the words: ‘Fuck me, fuck my ass! Please fuck me and make me come as you bugger my filthy bum.’”
“I’ll see you in hell first!” Vicky snapped – hating him and wanting him but refusing to surrender.
Yuri let out a laugh. By God, she was incredible. And by God she was going to suffer.
Yuri snapped his fingers and a moment later Dimitri was beside him, a selection of more clamps in his hands. The chief chose two and approached Vicky again and snapped the crocodile clips onto her rock hard nipples. Ominously, wires trailed from each one. The chief then attached some wires to the chains dangling from Vicky’s pussy.
Yuri wondered if this would be enough. The agony would be intense, her surrender inevitable, yet somehow he wasn’t satisfied. He went off into the darkness then returned a moment later with a metal dildo which had a wire clipped to it at the end. This device he inserted into Vicky’s pussy, forcing it all the way in her, using her copious cunt juice for lubrication, until it pressed against her cervix. He had considered shoving one up her ass as well, but decided he wanted to keep that pure and tight until she begged him to violate her with his cock. Yuri finally attached the wires to a small generator. Vicky’s next round of torture was about to begin.
“So, Miss Fullerton, I have toyed with you enough. I will have your confession then I will have your ass. Both will be given to me, though considering your current state of decoration, it would be safer for me to take one at a time. Let’s have the confession first.”
Yuri flicked on the switch and set the various dials on the generator to the lowest setting. A mild crackling sound was heard in the chamber then Vicky let out a pant of panic. It was the shock of the shock rather than the intensity of the current that made her huff and puff. Her nipples and her pussy lips, her clit and her vagina all tingled as the electricity flowed through them and then it was suddenly cut off.
“That was level one, Miss Fullerton. There are five more levels to go. It would amuse my men if I were to take you through them, but is it really necessary? I have the document here – agree to sign it then we can move on to some fucking. You know deep down you want my cock inside you. Why deny yourself the pleasure?”
“No! No! AHHHHHHH!” screamed Vicky as the switch was flicked on again and one of the dials turned to level two.
The pain was only on her nipples, spreading to hers breasts - an intense fiery tingling on her sensitive buds. Vicky jerked around in her bondage. It felt like she was being stabbed with needles. She squirmed and writhed, struggled to get free.
“Stop! Please, stop!” she yelled.
Yuri flicked the switch off and watched as Vicky hung limp from her cuffs, her body glistening with sweat as it tried to douse the fire of her torture.
“Are you ready to sign the confession?”
“Please, don’t do this,” she pleaded.
“Level three then,” announce Yuri. “Or should I stay at level two and apply the current to your cunt? The lips perhaps - or maybe the clit! No! Internally I think! Let’s electrify that dildo! Are you ready for the blast?”
“STOP!!! STOP!!! STOP!!!” screamed Vicky, the threat being more than enough. “I’ll sign your confession. PLEEEEEASE!!!”
“Are you certain, Miss Fullerton? I do not wish to have to attach you to this apparatus again. You are certain you will sign?”
“Yes,” whimpered Vicky.
Yuri switched off the generator. Only then did Vicky break down and cry hysterically. She cried the tears of a defeated woman. Yuri Karinov watched her as she sobbed.
‘Defeated, but not yet broken,’ thought Yuri as he toyed with the whip that still lay draped over his shoulder. ‘This leather will still be needed before she welcomes me to her body and accepts her enslavement. But welcome me she will. I will make her my whore before this day is through... and then tomorrow I will make a whore of her virginal sister!’
Chapter 7
Vicky had thought her torment was over when she was released from her bondage and painful clamps, and was brought to the desk where a typed document lay. She signed without reading, knowing there was little point in refusing. There was no way she could endure more of the electrical torture. People would realise she had signed it under duress; surely the document was meaningless. At least that was the hope that she clung to as she signed the confession then sank to her knees in total exhaustion at the feet of her tormentor.
Yuri inspected the signature and compared it against her passport. The hand was a little shaky, but it was clearly the same. Even a British court would accept this as a legitimate signed confession should he ever find the need to produce it. A Mordavian court would accept what Yuri told them to - this document was not required for them. It was needed to silence public opinion outside his jurisdiction if Vicky Fullerton’s arrest was ever to be made known. And much more importantly, it was needed to assist in his cunning plan which would lead to the conquest of the other Miss Fullerton.
Satisfied, Yuri locked the confession in the drawer of the desk then returned his attention to Vicky. He gathered a clump of her sweat drenched blonde hair and pulled her head backwards to face him.
“So, Miss Fullerton, you eventually saw sense. All the suffering you chose to endure, however, and it was so unnecessary. I trust we can now agree to proceed with the other part of this session without the need for further coercion.”
“What? What are you talking about?” asked Vicky.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Miss Fullerton. I thought I had made that clear. I’m going to fuck your sweet British ass, and I want to hear you beg me to do it. No resistance – I want you to welcome me to your body like a proper slave should.”
“Oh God, no! You can’t be serious,” Vicky replied, her voice croaking with despair at this repeated statement of the chief’s intent to enslave her.
“Oh I’m very serious, Miss Fullerton. Now that you have confessed, your life is mine to do as I chose with. And the good news is - I have decided to spare you the horror of hanging and make you my slave whore instead. It will be a relatively short sentence, in the pleasant surroundings of my country estate - much shorter than you would spend in our nightmarish prison if a judge was to get involved and allowed to spare your life. Five years would seem fair if you were to serve me well - after that you would be released, assuming you wanted to go. You might be surprised to know that not every woman does.”
“No! I would rather die,” growled Vicky, finding another level of courage.
“That may well be the case if you go to trial... or for that matter if you go to prison.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Such a silly
young woman... Tie her up again!
Five minutes later, Vicky was back suspended from the bar, her arms agonisingly stretched above her, and her legs spread apart and shackled at the ankles.
Yuri Karinov had watched from a few yards away as she was bound again, his whip still adorning his shoulder. “Chew on her tits!” he commanded the two policemen once Vicky was in place; then Yuri drifted away into the shadows.
The policemen pounced on her like a pair of hungry lions and devoured a nipple each, sucking and chewing the already tortured organs to agonising effect. For a moment Vicky forgot about the chief as she struggled to cope with the savagery of these men, then suddenly the chief was again foremost in her mind.
The first blow of the whip came as a surprise, even though Vicky had been forewarned by the sighting of it draped over the chief’s shoulder. The lash felt like a sharp slap across the top of her back and her skin tingled violently under the impact. She jerked her head back and pushed out her chest as if encouraging the two policemen to chew her tits all the harder. Then the lash struck again across her shoulder blades, this time a little harsher, but not agonisingly so – the chief was toying with her, warming them both up before the real flaying would begin.
“Go softly, you blaggards - for a few moments at least. Tease her tits with your tongues as I tease her back with my whip.”
For a moment Vicky’s torment was again turned into erotic pleasure as the policemen soothed her ravaged nipples with the gentlest of licks. Then the whip struck her lower back, the chief yielded it with such perfect force, the perfect balance of pleasure and pain - and despite herself and her exhausted state, Vicky let out a moan that was weighted more in pleasure’s favour. Her body could not help but respond to the cunning manipulation of the chief.
Two more lashes struck her, firm but not overly severe as the policemen suckled tenderly on her aching tits and stroked her tender cunt lips. But this pleasure was not to last. The chief did not toy too long before he started to strike out with more vicious blows - the whip swooshing through the air to land on every part of Vicky’s back.