Retaliation

by Jurgen von Stuka

  Despite this treatment, Melinda found the time and occasion for Her to utilize Hank's oral ability to service Her. The terrible hood with its various devices and penal extensions was used as often as possible when he was brought up from the pit, hosed down by a joyful Flavia and hooked up so that his Mistress could easily access his tongue. Inevitably, Hank failed to grasp the subtleties of probing all three of his Mistress's specified locations simultaneously. He was simply incapable of getting the two penis probes attached to his face far enough up both of Melinda's demanding holes at the same time. As far as stimulating Her clit as well, Hank was just beyond learning such a technique.

  Melinda eventually lost patience and stopped trying to figure out a solution to this. Besides, She was doing this to humiliate Hank, not so much for Her own personal pleasure. She realized that no amount of punishment, spanking, whipping or sexual torment was going to change this, so She changed objectives and accelerated the hormone doses. Of course, She still found time to attach the shoe, the double dicks and the false cunt to his nearly invisible face.

  At the same time, She drastically altered Hank’s punishment routine, introducing some new activities and special equipment that in the past She had not bothered with.

  “Come along now, Dick Head, “Melinda chided as She pulled Hank down the passageway and into a room that he had not seen before. For this event, Hank was in his normal naked state with his dick firmly harnessed and his balls separated by a complex steel ring device that allowed his tormentor to pull the testicles in opposite directions and stretch the sack to its maximum extent. The normal “uniform” of wrists chained behind his back and attached to his stiff posture collar and feet closely shackled was nothing new, so Hank shuffled along and tried in vain to keep up with Melinda.

  “Stand here. Stand still,” She shouted, dropping the leash and turning on the ceiling lights.

  Hank blinked in the bright illumination and studied with horror the scene before him.

  “No time for contemplation, Hankie,” Melinda said. “We’ll get you set up here in a jiffy and you can experience something new instead of that same old, same old stuff in the pit that seems to have bored you anyway. For example, today we’re going to see just how much liquid you can hold in your body. I’m talking about liters and liters, divided up, of course, among your various organs, so it will be slow in filling you up, but you will definitely know about it. Stand here and don’t move while I attach your collar and wrists to the overhead chains.”

  Hank obeyed, knowing that his only choice would have been a thorough flogging and that afterwards he’d end up in the same position anyway.

  Melinda removed his shackles and attached a four-foot long leg spreader to his ankles, attached a second spreader to his legs just above the knees and fitted an ultra-tight cincher corset about his already shrunken waist. She pulled the corset lacings tight until the edges met and tied off the laces, cut the loose ends, then slipped a crotch band into its locking fitting at the base of his spine, letting the many-faceted straps and other accessories hang down between his legs. She connected a rubber and metal nozzle to the strap and a clear plastic hose to the nozzle. The nozzle looked like a common garden hose variety except that it had two rubber collars encircling the base. These collars were attached to a slim air hose and a rubber inflator squeeze bulb.

  Because his neck collar forced him to look upwards, Hank noted that the hose ran up to a hanging rubber bag slightly behind his head and he knew right then what was coming.

  Mumbling and begging through his gag, he tried to free himself from the overhead chains on his collar and the leg spreader, only to receive four vicious strokes from the splayed aluminum cane Melinda often used to batter his ass.

  This cane was actually a hollow aluminum tube with the first four or six inches cut length wise, leaving the tattered five-inch tube pieces splayed into a whisk-like pattern. Unless used with skill and care, this simple device could easily flay body alive, cutting short lengths of flesh with every stroke. Five such strokes were a penalty no captive ex-husband of Melinda’s ever endured more than once. After that, even the most ornery of men rushed to obey.

  “I... SMACK... told... SMACK… you… SLAM... to… SMACK… stand... SLAM… still, you fuckin’ insect,” Melinda screamed as She swung the sturdy cane and connected each blow to the back of Hank’s thighs and ass.

  “Move again in the slightest and I’ll give you five more and use the torch on your balls,” Melinda said, now bubbling with rage. “Trust me, I’ve been just itching to toast them with the little butane torch over there on the counter. I use it to caramelize sugar on the top of my Crème Brule, but it will do a fine job on your balls. Now freeze while I finish this nasty job of plugging you in.”

  Hank froze. He was silent.

  The nozzle on the crotch strap went greasily up his ass and stayed there after Melinda pumped the inflator rings a bit, then detached the inflation hose and bulb. Melinda pulled the crotch strap through Hank’s spread thighs and assembled the next elements in the device.

  Hank stood still as a statue while his ex-wife manipulated his cock and balls into a new confinement configuration that stretched his dick out in front of him and constricted the ball sack viciously so that his testicles hung in leather thonged confinement with a steel thumb cuff locked around the base of each nut, holding them spread wide apart. Assembling this arrangement was not easy for his Ex and was extremely painful for Hank, but soon the entire grotesque arrangement was painfully installed and the crotch strap pulled up and locked to the front of the waist corset. The posture collar kept Hank from seeing what had been done to his sex, but he could feel the strangulation of his organs and knew that Melinda wasn’t finished quite yet.

  “This,” mewed Melinda, holding up a thin metal tube with a sort of flanged cap on one end, “is going up inside your useless dick. I hope you’ll feel it the entire time its going in and long afterward, but the real purpose is to take anything that’s in your bladder and drain it into this yellow hose and then into the container at your feet. The three liter container has a small electric pump inside and it will, when activated, lift the piss up and pump it into ... .guess where, Hankie. Guess where it’s going.”

  Hank thought he knew, but couldn’t respond.

  Melinda sprayed a bit of cooking oil on the slim, shining tube and slipped the steel catheter slowly into the opening at the end of Hank’s cock, driving it inward until only the capped end and the tiny valve remained dangling from the end of his now somewhat extended, straightened dick. Hank sobbed quietly, but he stood still.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that there’s a little valve there on the drain pipe and it will be kept shut off until we decide to allow you to pee, Hank. A nice feature, don’t you think?” Melinda added with a loud laugh. She quickly finished the whole set-up by plugging the end of another hose, this one blue, which hung down from the rubber enema bag into the front of Hank’s gag.

  “Now, you worthless fucker,” Melinda said. “I will explain this only once, so listen carefully. There are a lot of hoses here, so try to keep track of which ones go where. It will help you understand that eventual fullness you will experience in about an hour or so.

  “This hose is for just plain tap water. I can make it hot or cold,” Melinda explained, holding a thin, blue rubber hose connected to a tap on the wall high enough so that Hank could see it.

  “It splits here, at this valve,” She lifted the hose higher so that Hank saw the small brass valve with the blue hose attached on one side and blue and green hoses coming out the other. “The blue hose goes into our mouth through the gag. I’m sure you already figured out that your gag has multiple entry points and one of those is for this hose to feed you water. Don’t want you getting dehydrated, do we?

  “Okay, Hankie,” Melinda said. “This green hose feeds fresh water up you ass, connected by another valve to that nice brass nozzle already plugging your butt. Again, it has an ‘entry only,’ feature wh
ich you’ll soon fully grasp the significance of.”

  “So here’s the system as it is now hooked up,” Melinda said, yawning and sounding a bit bored at having to explain what seemed simple to her. “You swallow the incoming water from the blue hose and it goes down and around and into your bladder eventually and then out the plug in your dick and up this yellow hose and into the bag. The stuff in the bag goes down the brown hose and into your ass, supplemented by fresh water from the green hose.

  “Now, the nozzle in your ass is a pretty large butt plug and it has a ‘relief’ valve that will let me vent your guts now and then when I feel like it. Meanwhile, you’ll be filling up with tap water and the stuff that comes out of your bladder. Got that? See you later, Hankie. Enjoy.”

  Melinda, marveling to herself that She had at least this time gotten the hose configuration right, left the darkened room and headed back to Her office. Hank stood frozen in the spot, anxiously awaiting the incoming cold water that he would have to swallow.

  Time passes.

  At the end of six months, She was pleased with the results of Her new tactics. At the end of a year, long after everyone had forgotten about Hank and his sorry but generally unmourned end, Melinda began a series of operations on Hank that would, in the end, demonstrate her great skill as a plastic reconstructive surgeon and bring the next level of humiliation and distress to her ex husband. She had worked at the side of several top doctors for many years and, with the help of the thousands of videos taken from the surgical archives in the hospital where She worked, Melinda long ago mastered the art of changing skin and bone to meet whatever design She chose. It was all very slow, painful and gradual. She knew well that this was one thing that could not be rushed, but after spending a great deal of money on a full surgical suite in the basement of what had been Her and Hank's home, Melinda felt comfortable working and sleeping in the suite, gradually carrying out Her Mistress Plan.

  In time, Melinda realized that She needed another subject to use in Her tests. This need led to a few interesting, but productive encounters with men and women who found Her fascinating and hot. The men She chose were astonished initially that so gorgeous and talented a woman would find them sexually interesting. They quickly abandoned any misgivings or cautions when it came to accepting Her invitation to a weekend at Her luxurious home or a few days vacation at a lakeside retreat that She owned. A few of these short-timers survived, mostly because She either discovered that they were more entertaining than She expected or because they were without any scientific or medical value in Her research. Those who She sent away never knew how lucky they were.

  Meanwhile, Melinda continued to quietly pursue the women that She knew Hank had been fucking while they were married. One of these was Sheila, Her personal secretary. Melinda was unaware of the affair from its outset because, although She trusted no one, She believed Sheila to be gay and thus not a candidate for Hank's amorous advances. After viewing the Five Seasons Towers videos, Melinda quickly arranged to have Her office and waiting room thoroughly bugged. She learned from phone records, which She normally didn't even look at, each time Sheila called Hank. She said nothing to Sheila, comfortable that when the time was right, She'd take care of this bitch along with a few others. Her planning was, as always, quite thorough and perfect, mostly because She was in no hurry. So while Sheila assumed, after Hank's death, that the entire thrilling episode was past and forgotten, Melinda was setting up a flawless project that would allow Her to get even.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Double D

  The cargo area of BMW SUV was heavily modified. Even without the various additions, it would have easily accommodated Hank alone, but he and Dorothy Moss, his former girlfriend and present traveling companion, quickly wished for some other, more comfortable travel arrangements for the trip to where ever they were going.

  Hank spent most of his time praying that Dottie would not bite down any harder than she already was. While very adroit at blowjobs, Dottie did have an unfortunate failing of now and then forgetting it was a human cock she was sucking. Lost in some sort of narcotic revelry and totally preoccupied in her personal enjoyment of having Hank's dick sliding in and out of her mouth, she would, now and then, bring her teeth nearly together, mistaking Hank's screams of pain for sexual bliss. In this case, Dottie's large mouth was stuffed to near overflowing and her jaws stretched wide to accommodate not only Hank's cock, but his balls as well. Thus, any relaxation or attempt to close her jaws resulted in Hank's moaning into the gag hood and shuddering from fear and pain, not from sexual ecstasy of having his dick and balls sucked. His own mouth contained a double-ended phallic dildoe with one end halfway down his throat and the other deep inside Dottie's cunt. Heavy leather straps secured the double-ender to his hooded head and also to the belt arrangement around Dottie's waist and crotch.

  “This set-up is a special one, just for you two,” Melinda said as She jammed the double D into Her two unhappy captives, making sure that the rubber prongs went all the way in and up before the straps were once again tightened. “I thought a great deal about how you two might most enjoy your transportation to a new, temporary home, and this seemed most fitting.”

  Melinda always had special touches to add when it came to tormenting Hank and anyone else who She felt deserved Her demented attention, but in Dottie and Hank's case, She devoted exceptional emphasis to small details. Once the pair was tightly bound in the sixty-nine position and both of their mouths fully occupied, Melinda added yet another feature. Since their arms were wound around each other with wrists crossed and bound at a spot just at the base of their spines, Melinda decided that this merited “a little something extra,” as She put it. That something extra was a set of single gloves with very unusual features.

  So the captives' wrists were untied and then their hands bound palm to palm and stuffed into the heavy black leather single gloves which terminated in a long penis-like appendage. The gloves were laced up only part way because, of course, the subjects’ elbows were somewhere around each other's rib cage and not in a position to be pulled together, touching, as the gloves originally were designed to do. But their key element was a long and flexible extension of the middle fingers that reached downward and was cunningly designed to penetrate the asshole of the opposite victim.

  Melinda described it as She fitted the pair with this accessory:

  “This is something I have not totally finished yet, so you two are the human guinea pigs and in that sense, your assholes will serve as the test location for me. In time, I think I'll have this thing finished and perfect, but for today and tomorrow, or as long as you wear it, just make mental notes about how you feel with yet another kind of prick up your ass.”

  Both captives hummed and struggled as She arranged the long, thick, articulated leather finger probes, slowly inserting the greasy black obscenity into the resisting back door of first Hank and then his girlfriend. Once the entire length was fully lodged in its new home, a narrow silver-colored chain was drawn from the base of the finger probe, through the victim's crotch and attached to the head harness of the same person owning the deep-drilling leather finger.

  Melinda stood back to study Her work, She looked at the shivering, moaning pair. Each naked body was bound at ankles, knees and thighs with leather straps covered and sealed with duct tape. Each hooded head was firmly lodged in the sexual apex of the other, a multi-strap head harness and assorted other straps holding it in place. Dottie's leather-covered face was buried in Hank's crotch, his entire sex enclosed in her mouth. The chain from Dottie's single gloved hands and the accompanying probe in Hank's ass came through his crotch and tightly fastened to her head harness. For Hank, the same was true. His own arms encircled Dottie's body, drove the deep ass probe up into her lower intestine and were held there by the chain that came through her legs and connected to the head harness that also held the double dildoe in her cunt and his mouth.

  “Dorothy, dear,” said Melinda. “Wiggle your head a bit
so that I can tell if Hank's package is getting all of the attention it deserves.”

  Dottie slightly moved her head. Hank howled into the mouth-filling double probe. Pleased with the agonized response, Melinda left them strapped and bound in the cellar for about an hour while She took care of the travel arrangements, discussing the plan in detail with Priscilla, Her driver.

  “I cannot make this trip right now, but will fly out to the farm later this week. Megan and her people will take them from the car when you get there. If you have any trouble, call Sid at once and then call Daddy. The trunk will be double locked and is sealed with a state personal property tag, so no one, not even the cops, can open it without my permission or a warrant, and they won't get either. In the worst case, you know nothing. You just drive. Got that?”