I watched the streetlights pass by in the night. As I rode in the passenger seat of the Lincoln, The Duchess at the wheel, she hummed the melody to “Close to You” so sweetly. I dozed off and fell asleep, my forehead pressed against the cold glass.
I woke up on a grey cement floor. I sat up and looked around. I was a large cell. There were no windows, just a heavy steel door. There was a wood table in the middle of the cell. The Duchess was seated at the table in the only chair. Other than that, the cell was empty except for an aluminum bucket in a corner. The only light in the cell came from a dim yellow bulb on the ceiling.
The Duchess’ long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a long black leather skirt with a royal-blue turtle-neck sweater and black leather boots. Dark sunglasses concealed her eyes. Leather gloves covered her hands. A platinum skull pendent hung between her breasts.
She took a sip from a steaming hot cup of coffee and lit a cigarette. She didn’t speak with her lips. I heard her voice in my mind, “This is a hard room to be alone in, especially when the light is off. One is left alone with their thoughts, their fear, their sadness. Do you remember your first experience with solitude in a dark empty room?” Images from my earliest years flashed through my mind. “Do you remember the emotions you felt?” I saw myself screaming alone in an apartment without furniture. My eyes became hot and wet as I saw the tears flow from the eyes of the image of my early self.
The light went out in the room and a sudden wave of terror swept over me. I heard myself screaming. An intense mixture of fear and despair gripped me, it felt as if my insides were being crushed. The feeling was very familiar, though I didn’t remember experiencing such a deep and painful anguish ever before. The pain was worsened by a yearning, a longing, a question in my mind that would not stop repeating itself, ‘Where is she?’
The light came back on. I felt a tremendous sense of relief when I saw The Duchess still seated at the table. Her voice said, “It’s okay Clarence. I’m still here. Does it make you feel better to know that I’m still in the room with you? Would you like to spend the next two days in here alone in the dark? I could go lay down in the other room, curl up in a blanket and torture you with your own thoughts.” I saw myself naked, huddled in a corner of the cell trembling, covered in my own feces.
“Do you want me to stay in here with you Clarence? You know that you can’t lie to me. I’m inside your head. I know that you desperately hope I will stay, while you anticipate my departure. In order for me to stay, I will need to be entertained. How far are you willing to go to keep me entertained Clarence?” Images of her naked body flashed in my mind. I remembered the sight of her glistening, wet flesh when I bathed her. I remembered having my face pressed against her bare thighs as she held my head under the water until everything went black. A wave of euphoria, combined with a feeling of security and relief, swept over me. I felt her arms around my neck as she pulled me to her breasts and held me. “CLARENCE!” I looked up to see her still seated at the table smoking.
“How come the ‘Clarence’ inside your head is so much different from the ‘Clarence’ you present to the world around you?” The word ‘PRETENDER’ flashed in my mind in big black letters. “More importantly, how come the ‘Clarence’ inside your head is so much different from the person you believe yourself to be?” The word ‘DENIAL’ followed by the word, ‘INEFFECTUAL’ flashed in my head.
“Why are you lying on the floor like a loathsome animal that lacks dignity. Stand up!” I rose to my feet. “Take off your clothes.” I hesitated. “Don’t pretend that you don’t want to do everything, and anything, I tell you to do.” I removed my clothes and threw them in a pile on the floor.
“You have a nice cock.” A comforting warmth covered my body accompanied by a budding pride. “How does it make you feel when a woman can’t get enough of your cock?” The words ‘MASCULINE’ ‘ALIVE’ ‘CONTENT’ flashed in my mind. “Masculine, alive and content huh? Content…that’s interesting. So, I’m guessing that when you’re fucking, that’s the only time you are able to completely focus on your only strength, and thereby allow yourself to ignore the fact that you are stupid, incompetent, cowardly and lazy. When you bust that nut it’s sort of like your moment of glory, like a runner bursting through the tape with his arms outstretched as he crosses the finish line. That’s your special moment to escape the undeniable fact that you are such a fucking disappointment.” The word ‘FAILURE’ flashed repeatedly in my mind. I felt my shoulders slump; my dick hung limp; a mockery of my manhood. The Duchess began humming “Close to You” again.
“Come closer to the table.” I took a couple steps toward her. “Closer.” I took a few more reluctant steps. “Kneel down. On your knees.” I hesitated. “What? Am I not good enough for you to kneel before? I’m the woman who saved your pathetic wasted life. I pulled you out the car and stood over you, rifle in hand, defending you as you laid curled up in a ball on the ground. I didn’t leave you at Medea’s, I was outside waiting for you; while your punk-ass was inside betraying me. ME! The woman who rode side by side with you in the trenches, the woman who protected you. You know what? Fuck it. I’m leaving. You can sit in here by yourself.” I got down on my knees. The Duchess put her cigarette out on the table, never speaking. Her expression didn’t change, her dark sunglasses stared through me, consuming me like a star being swallowed by a black hole.
“Do you want me to suck your dick? Hahaha…And the question prompts you to visualize me with your cock in my mouth. Do you want to fuck me Clarence? Ohhhh…you do! You want to bend me over this table, pull my skirt up and give me a hard, savage fuck from behind. Do you think that I’d let you fuck me if you put your head between my thighs and kiss and lick and suck on my clit until I cum? HaHaHaHa…you hope so. I’m flattered that you fantasize about me, but I’m not into men Clarence. Maybe you can convince me to make an exception. You hope so, right?
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll stand up, take off my skirt, push my red lace panties down to my knees and lean over the desk. Then you can bury your face in my ass and lick my asshole while I get myself off. Would you do that for me Clarence?” My mind said ‘YES’. “Will you be my ass-licking slut-boy? Yes? Then say it. Say it out loud. Tell me you’ll be my ass-licking slut-boy!” I said out loud, “I’ll be your ass-licking slut-boy.”
“I want you to beg. You want it bad enough. You want to lick my ass more than I want you to do it. Beg! Beg me to let you be my ass-licking slut-boy!”
“Please Duchess…I beg you…please let me be your ass-licking slut-boy.”
“You’re a sorry excuse for a man Clarence. What you just did made me lose what little respect I had for you. I wouldn’t even let you lick my ass Clarence. I’d rather have a dog do it.” Disappointment and frustration clawed at my insides, my desire turned to anger and hate. “Ohhh…Will the real Clarence cooome oooon dowwwn! There you are, you two-faced bastard. You must be the guy who cut off that woman’s nipples with a box-cutter and tore her clit off with a pair of pliers. You’re a real fucking gentleman, you know that Clarence? Lilith, Lenore, The Fallen Angel, The Jehovah’s Witness…what the hell did she do? You raped all those women. How does that make you feel?” I felt like I was sinking down into the floor, smothered by guilt and shame.
“You’re frustrated because you’re a fucking worthless ineffectual fraction of a man, a waste of fucking life, so you take your frustration and rage out on some innocent woman who had nothing to do with you being a fucking idiot. Why don’t you go rape your mother Clarence? You fucking momma’s boy. That’s the woman who turned you into a fucking idiot. Let’s see you visualize that Clarence! Visualize fucking your mother hard and deep in the ass! HaHaHaHa…you’re a sick motherfucker Clarence! You just imagined what it would feel like to push your long, hard dick up your mother‘s…” I screamed out, “ENOUGH! STOP! PLEASE STOP!”
“It’s okay Clarence. Your time started when you woke up. That was about 20 minutes ago. Just think, you only have 47 hours and 40 minutes to go. Maybe I’ll bring someone in to announce the time every minute. You’d find out just how long a minute can take to pass. Nothing tortures like time, when ten minutes grinds by agonizingly slow, making it seem like an hour.” The cement floor made my knees ache, the pain shot up my body to my neck. My head began to pound.
“Only 47 hours and 39 minutes to go Clarence. You look tired. You must be very exhausted after these past days. You’ve had very little sleep. When is the last time you curled up under nice, thick, warm comforter, with plump, cold fluffy pillow?” Her voice hummed “Close to You” in my mind. I saw myself falling backward onto a mountain of red feathers. My eyes grew heavy, my knees felt like they were being crushed against the edge of a sharp rock.
“47 hours and 38 minutes left Clarence. Are you hungry?” The smell of roasted meat and French fries filled my nostrils. My stomach grumbled and my mouth watered. “There is something for you to eat in that bucket over there Clarence. Go look!” I was relieved to get off my knees. When I looked down into the bucket, I saw a man’s severed genitals. A large brown cockroach crawled over it. I coughed, retched and vomited bile. The stomach acids came out my nose, burning my nostrils causing my eyes to water.
“47 hours and 37 minutes Clarence. How would you like that to be your dick and balls in the bucket Clarence? I’ll saw your shit off with an old, dull and rusty hacksaw. Would that be a fitting punishment? No? What would be a fitting punishment Clarence?” My mind involuntarily replied, “For you to use me however you want.”
“Use you however I want huh? Your entire being is crying out for me to take you and use you however I want. How the fuck do you equate me fulfilling your desires with punishment? You’re one simple-minded motherfucker, you know that Clarence? Now that you’ve wasted your opportunity to choose your own punishment, I’ll choose. That means that you’re too much of a goddamn moron to look out for your own best interest and select a punishment you can handle.” I thought how relieved I was that she had stopped the countdown.
“47 hours and 36 minutes Clarence. If you want to stop the countdown. You have to eat the roach.” ‘FUCK NO’ flashed in my mind. “Fuck no, huh? I want you to eat the roach, for me, because I say so. You will do whatever I want, not because you’re trapped in a cell with me, not because I’m inside your head; but because you want to do whatever I want. It will please me if you eat the roach Clarence. To tell you truth, it will touch me to watch you do something that absolutely repulses you, to willingly cross your own lines, because you know that it will please me. You remember how easy it was to drink the cup of urine. This is just as easy. Just let go, turn your will over to me, bend down and pick up the cockroach. Now shove it in your mouth, chew it quickly and swallow it. Goood boooy Clarence.” I choked and gagged on the roach, I vomited again on the floor. I leaned against the wall and threw up roach legs and bile until my chest and throat ached from the dry heaves.
“Good job Clarence! I’m so impressed that I’m tempted to reward you by allowing you to lick my ass. But now that you’ve got the dick eating roach all over your tongue, I think I’ll pass.” I began coughing and dry heaving again. The Duchess lit another cigarette. She hadn’t yet spoken a word out loud, got up from her chair, changed the expression on her face or touched me.
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
The Lioness and the Black Widow 4
The Duchess ordered the twins to tie up Chris. Antigone dragged Theresa’s body out of the kitchen. The man in the attic, tied to the cross, sobbed and uttered anguished and unintelligible phrases. The sound of his voice alone expressed his hopeless condition. The blood that covered The Duchess’ naked body was cracked and dried. She said, “Clarence, follow me upstairs. I need a bath.”
I drew her water. I held her hand as she stepped into the tub. I marveled at he way her feet reddened the water and wondered if The Duchess corrupted everything she touched. When the tub was full, she submerged herself; disappearing beneath the pink and white bubbles. The stillness of the water was unsettling, knowing a predator lurked unseen beneath the surface.
Her upper-body emerged from the water like the head of a demonic red serpent. I reached down between her feet and pulled the plug. She laid back in the tub as the water drained, her body coated with pink suds. I replaced the plug, refilled the tub with fresh water, then I rubbed shampoo into her long red hair. With a large soapy sponge, I lathered her neck and back. She stood up in the tub, her body glistening. I worked the soap into her slippery pale flesh; watching the sponge glide over her breasts and stomach, leaving a trail of white foam in its wake.
The heat from the tub, my exhaustion and my extreme state of arousal combined to make me light-headed and disoriented. I feared that I would feint right in front of her. She braced herself with a hand on my shoulder and raised her leg, lifting her foot out of the water. I took her foot in one hand and slowly spread lathers of soap from her toes to her thighs. She turned, I repeated the process with the other leg. I squeezed the sponge between her thighs, back and forth across her pussy, then up and down the crack of her ass. She sat down and submerged herself again.
When she came back up, she sat soaking in the tub, staring at the wall in front of her. She said, “Go get me the scalpel out of the medicine cabinet.” I went to the medicine cabinet, found the scalpel and returned to the tub. She reached her hand out toward me. I laid the scalpel in her palm. She gripped the scalpel in her fist and pressed the blade to the flesh of her left breast. She pulled the blade to right, drawing a red line across her breast. After setting the scalpel on the edge of the tub, she dipped the tip of her finger in the blood that flowed from her wound. Then she reached up to the wall and scrawled the letter D.
When she was done writing, one word stood out in red on the white wall, ‘DECEPTION’. Antigone and the twins burst into the bathroom. Antigone punched me in the jaw, knocking me to the floor. The three women then kicked me in the head, back, legs and arms as I laid curled up in a ball. They then dragged me to the tub and lifted my upper-body up over the edge. The Duchess grabbed onto the back of my head and forced my head under the water. She held me there, my face pressed against her thighs.
Despite the fear and pain, a part of me felt relief and a libidinous thrill. However, that part of me also anticipated being brought up for air, before being submerged again. That didn’t happen. My thrill and enjoyment quickly disappeared, panic entered in its place. I fought and squirmed and struggled. It was all in vain, the women held firm. The last thing I saw was The Duchess’ pink thighs through the water, then everything went black.
I woke up on the floor with someone’s lips pressed against mine, their breath in my lungs. When I opened my eyes, all I could see was the blinding white light on the ceiling. A silhouette entered my vision. It was The Duchess’ sitting on top of me. She threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs. Then she rose to her feet and stood over me; steam rose from her red, wet body. Her soaking red hair clung to her skin. She yelled out to Antigone, “I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU I COULD DO THAT SHIT! I AM THE BOSS QUEEN BITCH!” She looked down at me, “Lavinia is right. That was a fucking rush! I actually got almost as much of a high resuscitating you, as I did drowning your ass out!” Antigone said, “Kill his ass, bring him back, then kill his ass again!” The twins began laughing uproariously and giving each other high-fives.
The Duchess shook her head, “No, once is enough. I just want to be able to say that I put my mark on Lavinia’s boy.” She then motioned toward the door with her head. Antigone and the twins left, closing the door behind them. The Duchess sat down, straddling my hips. I felt the heat of her naked pussy through my pants. She tore my shirt open, then smiled and tilted her head as she gazed on the letters etched into my chest. She laughed and said, “DAMIJANA? The Gothic Girl carved her name in your chest? You have a fetish for sticking your dick in hornet’s nests don‘t you Clarence? You’re involved with Lavinia and her sister? I better get what I need out of you while I can, because you are probably not going to be around too much longer. How fucking stupid do you have to be?”
I remained silent. The Duchess continued, “I’ll tell you what Clarence. I’ll help you and you’re gonna help me. I’ll help you by teaching you the one thing you need to know to help you navigate the shark infested waters you’ve been drowning in. ‘There is a wall, a white wall. And on it is written DECEPTION’. Never assume you know what’s going on. If you think you know what’s going on, either someone else is playing you, or you’re playing yourself.
“Now, you’re going to go get dressed. Get dressed nice. We have a lot of men’s clothing here, along with jewelry. You know…things that lost their owners, or the owners got lost. Then we’re going out. There is a lady who I want you to meet.”
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I drew her water. I held her hand as she stepped into the tub. I marveled at he way her feet reddened the water and wondered if The Duchess corrupted everything she touched. When the tub was full, she submerged herself; disappearing beneath the pink and white bubbles. The stillness of the water was unsettling, knowing a predator lurked unseen beneath the surface.
Her upper-body emerged from the water like the head of a demonic red serpent. I reached down between her feet and pulled the plug. She laid back in the tub as the water drained, her body coated with pink suds. I replaced the plug, refilled the tub with fresh water, then I rubbed shampoo into her long red hair. With a large soapy sponge, I lathered her neck and back. She stood up in the tub, her body glistening. I worked the soap into her slippery pale flesh; watching the sponge glide over her breasts and stomach, leaving a trail of white foam in its wake.
The heat from the tub, my exhaustion and my extreme state of arousal combined to make me light-headed and disoriented. I feared that I would feint right in front of her. She braced herself with a hand on my shoulder and raised her leg, lifting her foot out of the water. I took her foot in one hand and slowly spread lathers of soap from her toes to her thighs. She turned, I repeated the process with the other leg. I squeezed the sponge between her thighs, back and forth across her pussy, then up and down the crack of her ass. She sat down and submerged herself again.
When she came back up, she sat soaking in the tub, staring at the wall in front of her. She said, “Go get me the scalpel out of the medicine cabinet.” I went to the medicine cabinet, found the scalpel and returned to the tub. She reached her hand out toward me. I laid the scalpel in her palm. She gripped the scalpel in her fist and pressed the blade to the flesh of her left breast. She pulled the blade to right, drawing a red line across her breast. After setting the scalpel on the edge of the tub, she dipped the tip of her finger in the blood that flowed from her wound. Then she reached up to the wall and scrawled the letter D.
When she was done writing, one word stood out in red on the white wall, ‘DECEPTION’. Antigone and the twins burst into the bathroom. Antigone punched me in the jaw, knocking me to the floor. The three women then kicked me in the head, back, legs and arms as I laid curled up in a ball. They then dragged me to the tub and lifted my upper-body up over the edge. The Duchess grabbed onto the back of my head and forced my head under the water. She held me there, my face pressed against her thighs.
Despite the fear and pain, a part of me felt relief and a libidinous thrill. However, that part of me also anticipated being brought up for air, before being submerged again. That didn’t happen. My thrill and enjoyment quickly disappeared, panic entered in its place. I fought and squirmed and struggled. It was all in vain, the women held firm. The last thing I saw was The Duchess’ pink thighs through the water, then everything went black.
I woke up on the floor with someone’s lips pressed against mine, their breath in my lungs. When I opened my eyes, all I could see was the blinding white light on the ceiling. A silhouette entered my vision. It was The Duchess’ sitting on top of me. She threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs. Then she rose to her feet and stood over me; steam rose from her red, wet body. Her soaking red hair clung to her skin. She yelled out to Antigone, “I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU I COULD DO THAT SHIT! I AM THE BOSS QUEEN BITCH!” She looked down at me, “Lavinia is right. That was a fucking rush! I actually got almost as much of a high resuscitating you, as I did drowning your ass out!” Antigone said, “Kill his ass, bring him back, then kill his ass again!” The twins began laughing uproariously and giving each other high-fives.
The Duchess shook her head, “No, once is enough. I just want to be able to say that I put my mark on Lavinia’s boy.” She then motioned toward the door with her head. Antigone and the twins left, closing the door behind them. The Duchess sat down, straddling my hips. I felt the heat of her naked pussy through my pants. She tore my shirt open, then smiled and tilted her head as she gazed on the letters etched into my chest. She laughed and said, “DAMIJANA? The Gothic Girl carved her name in your chest? You have a fetish for sticking your dick in hornet’s nests don‘t you Clarence? You’re involved with Lavinia and her sister? I better get what I need out of you while I can, because you are probably not going to be around too much longer. How fucking stupid do you have to be?”
I remained silent. The Duchess continued, “I’ll tell you what Clarence. I’ll help you and you’re gonna help me. I’ll help you by teaching you the one thing you need to know to help you navigate the shark infested waters you’ve been drowning in. ‘There is a wall, a white wall. And on it is written DECEPTION’. Never assume you know what’s going on. If you think you know what’s going on, either someone else is playing you, or you’re playing yourself.
“Now, you’re going to go get dressed. Get dressed nice. We have a lot of men’s clothing here, along with jewelry. You know…things that lost their owners, or the owners got lost. Then we’re going out. There is a lady who I want you to meet.”
edit
Kali's Altar 20
As I showered, I watched the pink fluid twirl around the drain. My fingertips ran over the sore and swollen, scabbed letters etched into my chest. Welts had been raised all over my body, my muscles were still cramped and sore from my time in the box. My heart felt like a burdensome stone sinking, crushing the vital organs below.
After I dried off and dressed in fresh black fatigues, I made my way to Lavinia’s office. The door was open when I got there, Lavinia sat masked behind her desk. As I crossed the threshold, her voice said, “You must put your recent ordeal in the past. Do it immediately. We have business to attend to. The Duchess will return shortly.”
I remained standing, I knew that it would hurt too bad for me to sit down. So did she. Her voice said, “Sit down.” A deep, long guttural grunt helped me vocalize the pain I felt as I took my seat. The wooden chair felt as if it was the hardest metal in the world. My muscles remained tensed, my body battered.
Lavinia’s voice said, “Raise your head and sit up straight. I can’t have you sitting there looking like some kind of demoralized abuse victim when The Duchess arrives.”
I thought, “Is her house similar to this one?”
“No. Their house has Gypsy roots. They’re more nomadic than us. They don’t let men sit at their table, but they sacrifice men frequently.”
“So, even though there is an alliance between our houses, I still won’t be considered an ally to them?”
“Why are you worried about it?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes. You are.”
“Well I should be worried about it. Now, on top of everything else, I have to worry about being sacrificed by The Duchess.”
“Do you think your fear will save you? Then what good is it? You will be in many more situations where the risk of death is high. You should be tired of fearing death by now. Don’t waste whatever time you have, shaking and trembling in fear.”
There was a knock at the door. Lilith entered followed by The Duchess and her entourage. The Duchess was accompanied by two women, identical twins, with caramel complexions and short black hair. The twins looked to be no older than 20. They were short and rail thin with cold, uncaring eyes. The man was huge. He stood about 6’5 and must have weighed at least 270 lbs. His eyes showed the evidence of intoxication. His care-free demeanor and cocky grin told me that he was completely unaware that he was a lamb being led to the slaughter. The man blurted out, “Hey, I like your mask. That’s awesome. My name is Roger.” The man began to approach Lavinia’s desk. Instinctively, I stood to block the path between her and him. I looked into his glazed eyes and saw amusement. He said, “Whoa Chief! I was trying to introduce myself to lady. I won’t steal her away from you, I promise. That is, unless she wants me to.” The man winked at Lavinia and laughed. I couldn’t wait to watch him die.
Lavinia motioned to the chair in front of her desk, her voice said, “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Lavinia. Please sit down.” The man sat down and looked around the room. He turned to The Duchess, “Hey Alice, I thought this was supposed to be a party.” He turned back to Lavinia, “Why don’t you have your boy here get me a drink?” He looked up at me, daring me to say something. I said, “Of course sir, what can I get for you?”
“Scotch would be awesome.” I walked out the room, down the hall to Lavinia’s quarters and retrieved the blood-stained baseball bat from the chest. I barged back into Lavinia’s office. When I was a few feet behind the man, he turned in his seat and smiled at me, “You got my drink boy?” I raised the bat in the air and slammed it into the side of his face. Teeth flew across the room. The man rose from his chair slowly, gripping the side of his face, a confused look was in his eyes. He charged me. I swung the bat again but he blocked the blow and snatched me up in a bear hug.
Lilith jumped on the man’s back and dug her fingers into his eyes. The man shrieked, let go of me and ran around in circle trying to get Lilith off his back. I raised the bat again planning to smash the man’s kneecap the next time he passed. Lavinia’s voice commanded, “No, don’t break his knees. He won’t be able to walk after I raise him. Lilith, let go!” Lilith let go of the man and fell to the floor. The man continued running around in circles screaming, clutching his bleeding eyes. The Duchess laughed and said, “Roger! Stop running around. Let me help you.”
The man screamed, “Fuck you bitch! I can’t fucking see. I’m gonna kill that fucking nigger!” The Duchess looked at me and shook her head, “Don’t worry about him. He’s awesome.” The twins stepped forward. The one on the right said, “I know this sorry muthafucka isn’t runnin’ around like a decapitated chicken calling people niggas.” The twin on the left said, “That word doesn’t bother me. But let this punk say ‘awesome’ one more time and that will be the end of him.” The man roared, then yelled out, “Fuck you! Fuck all you bitches! I’m gonna kill every single one of you.”
The Duchess said, “How are you going to do that Roger? You can’t fucking see.”
Lavinia’s voice said, “Roger, you have a good job, a wife, kids.” Roger stopped running in circles, he stood in the center of the room, his chest heaving. He said, “You leave my family out of this.” Lilith circled the man glaring at him. She had changed a lot since the first time I saw her. I remembered her sitting in front of her mirror. I remembered the look in her eyes as she was forced to watch her husband being tortured. It was her husband’s reckless pursuit of a fantasy that had placed us both in the position we found ourselves in. Lilith stopped behind the man and said, “Do you really think you can protect your family with just words alone? You’re here alone, blind and unarmed in a house full of killers and you’re barking out demands?”
The twin on the right said, “If this punk muthafucka cared about his family, he would be with them now, not out chasing pussy.”
The twin on the left, “That’s what got you killed. You know that right?”
The twin on the right, “Now your kids will grow up without a father.”
The Duchess laughed and said, “No they won’t. I’ve seen a picture of his wife. It won’t take her long to find someone else. Then his kids will call another man daddy.”
Lavinia’s voice said, “They’ll never know what happened to you. There won’t be any funeral for them to go to. They’re going to think that you abandoned them.” The Duchess added, “I’ll call your wife and let her know that was the case. I’ll tell her about all the shit you talked about her. I’ll tell her that you don’t want her anymore and that you’re mine now because she was unable to tend to your needs.”
The man began to sob, “Please. Please. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
The twin on the left said, “You’ll ‘give’ us? You ain’t got to give us a muthafuckin’ thing punk. We’re gonna take whatever the fuck we want from you and there ain’t shit you can do about it.”
The man cried, “Please, I’m sorry for offending you. I’m a little fucked up.”
The twin on the right, “Yeah, you real fucked up ain’t you? I’ll tell you what punk. If you suck my friends dick, we’ll let you go home to your family.” The man stopped sobbing and went silent. He said, “Okay, whatever you want.” The twins began laughing uproariously. The Duchess said, “See this,” pointing at Roger, “this is why we don’t let men sit at our table. He fucked up his whole family chasing pussy. Now, he’s got himself into some trouble and he’s willing to get on his knees and suck dick to get out of it.” The Duchess looked at me, “So what do you think comrade? Should we let ‘awesome-man’ here go if he sucks your dick?”
I said, “That’s not what I want. I want his hands cuffed behind his back and his pants around his ankles. I’m gonna take that ass.”
The man yelled, “Fuck that. I’m not…”
Lavinia’s voice interrupted, “You’re never going to see your family again if you don’t do exactly what we tell you to do.” She pulled a pair of handcuffs from the desk drawer and tossed them on the desk. The twin on the left said, “Oh this is going to be good. I ain’t seen a man get his ass took by another man before.” Lilith grabbed the handcuffs from the desk. The Duchess said, “Hold on. Do we have a deal Roger? You drop your pants, let this man fuck you up the ass and we’ll let go.” Roger didn’t answer. The Duchess continued, “It’s okay, I understand that you’re embarrassed. All you have to do is drop your pants, take a little a pain and we’ll let you go. Nobody will ever find out about this.”
The man said, “Why are you doing this to me?”
Lavinia’s voice boomed, “BECAUSE WE CAN! Now drop your fucking pants or we’ll go pick up your wife, bring her here and Clarence can fuck her instead.” The man shook his head whispering, “no…no…no…” He undid his belt buckle, unfastened and unzipped his pants, then let them fall to his ankles. Lavinia’s voice said, “Lilith, cuff him.” Lilith cuffed the mans hands behind his back. Lavinia placed a dagger on the table, “Clarence, I have an empty jar. Fill it.”
I snatched the dagger from her desk, gripped the man’s dick and balls with my left hand, then sliced off his genitals with the dagger. The man fell to floor screaming and kicking his legs. The Duchess took off her white mink and threw it on the floor as if it was a rag. She looked at me and asked, “Hey Clarence, what does a girl have to do to get a cup of coffee around here?”
After I dried off and dressed in fresh black fatigues, I made my way to Lavinia’s office. The door was open when I got there, Lavinia sat masked behind her desk. As I crossed the threshold, her voice said, “You must put your recent ordeal in the past. Do it immediately. We have business to attend to. The Duchess will return shortly.”
I remained standing, I knew that it would hurt too bad for me to sit down. So did she. Her voice said, “Sit down.” A deep, long guttural grunt helped me vocalize the pain I felt as I took my seat. The wooden chair felt as if it was the hardest metal in the world. My muscles remained tensed, my body battered.
Lavinia’s voice said, “Raise your head and sit up straight. I can’t have you sitting there looking like some kind of demoralized abuse victim when The Duchess arrives.”
I thought, “Is her house similar to this one?”
“No. Their house has Gypsy roots. They’re more nomadic than us. They don’t let men sit at their table, but they sacrifice men frequently.”
“So, even though there is an alliance between our houses, I still won’t be considered an ally to them?”
“Why are you worried about it?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes. You are.”
“Well I should be worried about it. Now, on top of everything else, I have to worry about being sacrificed by The Duchess.”
“Do you think your fear will save you? Then what good is it? You will be in many more situations where the risk of death is high. You should be tired of fearing death by now. Don’t waste whatever time you have, shaking and trembling in fear.”
There was a knock at the door. Lilith entered followed by The Duchess and her entourage. The Duchess was accompanied by two women, identical twins, with caramel complexions and short black hair. The twins looked to be no older than 20. They were short and rail thin with cold, uncaring eyes. The man was huge. He stood about 6’5 and must have weighed at least 270 lbs. His eyes showed the evidence of intoxication. His care-free demeanor and cocky grin told me that he was completely unaware that he was a lamb being led to the slaughter. The man blurted out, “Hey, I like your mask. That’s awesome. My name is Roger.” The man began to approach Lavinia’s desk. Instinctively, I stood to block the path between her and him. I looked into his glazed eyes and saw amusement. He said, “Whoa Chief! I was trying to introduce myself to lady. I won’t steal her away from you, I promise. That is, unless she wants me to.” The man winked at Lavinia and laughed. I couldn’t wait to watch him die.
Lavinia motioned to the chair in front of her desk, her voice said, “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Lavinia. Please sit down.” The man sat down and looked around the room. He turned to The Duchess, “Hey Alice, I thought this was supposed to be a party.” He turned back to Lavinia, “Why don’t you have your boy here get me a drink?” He looked up at me, daring me to say something. I said, “Of course sir, what can I get for you?”
“Scotch would be awesome.” I walked out the room, down the hall to Lavinia’s quarters and retrieved the blood-stained baseball bat from the chest. I barged back into Lavinia’s office. When I was a few feet behind the man, he turned in his seat and smiled at me, “You got my drink boy?” I raised the bat in the air and slammed it into the side of his face. Teeth flew across the room. The man rose from his chair slowly, gripping the side of his face, a confused look was in his eyes. He charged me. I swung the bat again but he blocked the blow and snatched me up in a bear hug.
Lilith jumped on the man’s back and dug her fingers into his eyes. The man shrieked, let go of me and ran around in circle trying to get Lilith off his back. I raised the bat again planning to smash the man’s kneecap the next time he passed. Lavinia’s voice commanded, “No, don’t break his knees. He won’t be able to walk after I raise him. Lilith, let go!” Lilith let go of the man and fell to the floor. The man continued running around in circles screaming, clutching his bleeding eyes. The Duchess laughed and said, “Roger! Stop running around. Let me help you.”
The man screamed, “Fuck you bitch! I can’t fucking see. I’m gonna kill that fucking nigger!” The Duchess looked at me and shook her head, “Don’t worry about him. He’s awesome.” The twins stepped forward. The one on the right said, “I know this sorry muthafucka isn’t runnin’ around like a decapitated chicken calling people niggas.” The twin on the left said, “That word doesn’t bother me. But let this punk say ‘awesome’ one more time and that will be the end of him.” The man roared, then yelled out, “Fuck you! Fuck all you bitches! I’m gonna kill every single one of you.”
The Duchess said, “How are you going to do that Roger? You can’t fucking see.”
Lavinia’s voice said, “Roger, you have a good job, a wife, kids.” Roger stopped running in circles, he stood in the center of the room, his chest heaving. He said, “You leave my family out of this.” Lilith circled the man glaring at him. She had changed a lot since the first time I saw her. I remembered her sitting in front of her mirror. I remembered the look in her eyes as she was forced to watch her husband being tortured. It was her husband’s reckless pursuit of a fantasy that had placed us both in the position we found ourselves in. Lilith stopped behind the man and said, “Do you really think you can protect your family with just words alone? You’re here alone, blind and unarmed in a house full of killers and you’re barking out demands?”
The twin on the right said, “If this punk muthafucka cared about his family, he would be with them now, not out chasing pussy.”
The twin on the left, “That’s what got you killed. You know that right?”
The twin on the right, “Now your kids will grow up without a father.”
The Duchess laughed and said, “No they won’t. I’ve seen a picture of his wife. It won’t take her long to find someone else. Then his kids will call another man daddy.”
Lavinia’s voice said, “They’ll never know what happened to you. There won’t be any funeral for them to go to. They’re going to think that you abandoned them.” The Duchess added, “I’ll call your wife and let her know that was the case. I’ll tell her about all the shit you talked about her. I’ll tell her that you don’t want her anymore and that you’re mine now because she was unable to tend to your needs.”
The man began to sob, “Please. Please. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
The twin on the left said, “You’ll ‘give’ us? You ain’t got to give us a muthafuckin’ thing punk. We’re gonna take whatever the fuck we want from you and there ain’t shit you can do about it.”
The man cried, “Please, I’m sorry for offending you. I’m a little fucked up.”
The twin on the right, “Yeah, you real fucked up ain’t you? I’ll tell you what punk. If you suck my friends dick, we’ll let you go home to your family.” The man stopped sobbing and went silent. He said, “Okay, whatever you want.” The twins began laughing uproariously. The Duchess said, “See this,” pointing at Roger, “this is why we don’t let men sit at our table. He fucked up his whole family chasing pussy. Now, he’s got himself into some trouble and he’s willing to get on his knees and suck dick to get out of it.” The Duchess looked at me, “So what do you think comrade? Should we let ‘awesome-man’ here go if he sucks your dick?”
I said, “That’s not what I want. I want his hands cuffed behind his back and his pants around his ankles. I’m gonna take that ass.”
The man yelled, “Fuck that. I’m not…”
Lavinia’s voice interrupted, “You’re never going to see your family again if you don’t do exactly what we tell you to do.” She pulled a pair of handcuffs from the desk drawer and tossed them on the desk. The twin on the left said, “Oh this is going to be good. I ain’t seen a man get his ass took by another man before.” Lilith grabbed the handcuffs from the desk. The Duchess said, “Hold on. Do we have a deal Roger? You drop your pants, let this man fuck you up the ass and we’ll let go.” Roger didn’t answer. The Duchess continued, “It’s okay, I understand that you’re embarrassed. All you have to do is drop your pants, take a little a pain and we’ll let you go. Nobody will ever find out about this.”
The man said, “Why are you doing this to me?”
Lavinia’s voice boomed, “BECAUSE WE CAN! Now drop your fucking pants or we’ll go pick up your wife, bring her here and Clarence can fuck her instead.” The man shook his head whispering, “no…no…no…” He undid his belt buckle, unfastened and unzipped his pants, then let them fall to his ankles. Lavinia’s voice said, “Lilith, cuff him.” Lilith cuffed the mans hands behind his back. Lavinia placed a dagger on the table, “Clarence, I have an empty jar. Fill it.”
I snatched the dagger from her desk, gripped the man’s dick and balls with my left hand, then sliced off his genitals with the dagger. The man fell to floor screaming and kicking his legs. The Duchess took off her white mink and threw it on the floor as if it was a rag. She looked at me and asked, “Hey Clarence, what does a girl have to do to get a cup of coffee around here?”
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Brutality 14
During lunch, Lavinia announced that I had made a decision in regard to Selene’s fate. She told me to tell everyone what I decided. I said, “Selene will be confined to a cell for 28 days. When her sentence is complete, she will return to the table.”
Black Sally slammed her fist on the table: “Justice, that’s what we’re talking about here. A transgression was committed by a member of the family against another member of the family. As a group, we decided on the appropriate action to take and the victim was able to derive some sick satisfaction out of being able to punish the transgressor. I’m proud to say that this table has learned to handle these situations in a civilized manner. I am always fascinated by situations where a sudden twist of fate turns the ‘fucker’ into the ‘fuckee’. This thing with Clarence and Selene is a situation like that. Amazingly, Clarence happens to be at the center of another controversy. This time he’s the ‘fucker’ and one of my possessions was the ‘fuckee’. You all remember our guest last night. Clarence cuffed her, fucked her, shoved a flashlight up her ass and did a couple other things that are so reprehensible, I dare not mention them at Aunt Antonija’s table. Let’s just say that she’ll never be the same again.”
Lavinia asked, “Sally, what do you require of Clarence?”
“Several minutes ago I asked Clarence what he thought would be a suitable punishment for his offense. He proposed that we give him the strap-on.”
Lavinia looked around the table, “Does anyone have any objections?” Nobody spoke out in my defense. “Sally, when are you planning for this event to occur?”
I was very concerned by the words ‘we’ and ‘event’. I said, “I have an objection.” Isabel began laughing hysterically. Lavinia glared at me, “What is your objection Clarence?”
“I have a seat at the table. The person I committed the offense against does not. This isn’t the same as the Selene situation. I shouldn’t have to…”
Lavinia interrupted, “Clarence, are you saying that you’re more important than the other people seated at the table?”
“No, of course not. I…”
“Are you more important than Lenore who sits to your right?”
“No.”
“But you chopped off her hair, beat her, bent her over my desk and viciously sodomized her. Am I right?”
The six women at the table all stared at me, awaiting my answer. I said, “I’ve gone through a lot too…”
“Answer the question,” Lavinia demanded.
“Lenore and I played a game yesterday and it got out of hand.”
Lenore asked, “Clarence, do you know how much it hurts to have a large object shoved up your ass?”
“No.”
Lavinia said, “Then we have nothing else to talk about Clarence. Obviously this is a lesson you need to learn. If you wish to keep arguing the point, I will come up with a punishment that I feel is appropriate. Is that what you want Clarence?”
“No.”
“Then it’s settled. Sally, when is this event to take place?”
“After lunch.”
“Very good.” Lavinia kept glaring at me. I heard her voice in my head, “You have to take your punishment slave. Otherwise, Sally won’t let you back in.”
After lunch, I reluctantly made my way back to my room. Black Sally was standing by my door waiting for me, “Get in there and take your clothes off, then lay facedown on the bed.”
After I stripped and laid on the bed, Sally straddled my back. She used rope to tie my hands to the bedpost. Then she left the room. I laid there waiting; filled with terror and hope. I hoped that Sally would go easy on me. It seemed like I was waiting there forever. I couldn’t stop shaking and sweating. My bladder was full and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold it. The door opened. Lenore, Atrese and Isabel entered the room. Isabel carried a bag. They joked and laughed with each other as they removed their skirts. A few minutes later, the 3 of them stood by my bedside with large dildos attached to their groins.
Lenore knelt down by my head, “Try to relax.” She climbed on top of me. I felt the strap-on in the crack of my ass. I heard her spit. I screamed into the pillow. The mattress springs squeaked, the headboard slammed into the wall. The pain was way beyond what I’d anticipated. The mattress became wet and warm. I panicked thinking that is was blood. I began jerking around and yelling, begging for her stop. Atrese laughed and said, “That bitch knows how to buck back.”
Lenore stopped, got up and yelled, “Look, Clarence pissed himself.” The three women began laughing uproariously. Isabel got on top of me. She pushed the strap-on deep in my ass and moved her hips around. I grunted, yelled and moaned. Snot ran from my nose, tears fell from my eyes. Isabel smacked me on the ass as she fucked me. Atrese cheered her on, “C’mon Isabel. Fuck him! Break that bitches ass in! Yeah! Fuck him. Tear his fucking asshole out!” Isabel got off me, gave Atrese a high-five and said, “Your turn.”
Atrese didn’t just fuck me. She tried to hammer me through the wall. I wondered if I’d ever walk again, it felt like she was going to break my back. As she fucked me she shouted, “You like that don’t you bitch.” and “Take it bitch! Take this cock. Take this cock you nasty fucking whore!” She punched me in side, bit my shoulder and spit on me as tore up my insides. When she was done fucking, she shoved her hand in my ass, then pulled it out and held it front of my face, “Look at all that shit and blood.” She wiped her hand across my face. Then she removed the strap-on, stood over me on the bed, squatted and pissed all over my back. Isabel placed a box of maxi-pads by head, “Here, you might need these sweetheart.” The three women put their skirts back on and left, laughing as they walked out the door.
I laid there cuffed, lying naked in piss and filth. Sally appeared by my side. She untied me and led me to the shower. I could barely walk. She put me in the shower, changed all my bandages and gave me more pain pills. I asked, “Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’? Why did you do that to Brianna?”
Lavinia’s voice spoke in my mind, “Tell her you lost control.”
“I lost control.”
“You lost control? Well you better make sure that doesn’t happen too many times in the future. Do you remember what happened to Evelyn? She lost control too.”
“I’m sorry,”
Black Sally looked me in the eyes, “Go get dressed, I’ll see you at dinner.” She walked out the bathroom. I missed her kiss. I missed the feeling of camaraderie I had felt with her the night before. She had been my only source of light in the house. She saved Brianna’s life and protected her from torture. She showed that she trusted me, by leaving me to have my way with Brianna. I betrayed her trust.
I heard Lavinia in my mind, “Trust has nothing to do with it. Sally does what furthers her agenda. She’s reptilian in her thinking. Love, friendship and ‘doing the right thing’ have nothing to do with it. And what did she protect? She sure the hell didn’t protect the Dominatrix from being tortured by me, did she slave? Your ’source of light’? I am your only source of light. You will be sent back to Sally’s quarters tonight. Didn’t she give you a history lesson slave? She told you that she sits at the right hand of the woman who murdered the old Matriarch. Your Mommy-issues cloud your vision. Are you expecting her to clutch you to her bosom, take care of you and protect you? slave, you have been given a line to follow. You now have light so you can see that line in the darkness. ”
I began to ask out loud, “What li…,” a sharp pain shot up my spine, all my muscles began to cramp and I fell to the floor. I broke out in a sweat, the left side of my body began to go numb. Lavinia’s voice screamed in my head, “I TOLD YOU TO KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT WHEN YOU’RE TALKING TO ME!”
The numbness and cramps immediately went away. The pain subsided. “If you do that again slave, I’ll make you have a stroke.”
After I returned to my room and got dressed, I stood leaning against the wall. I had been in that house for less than two days, during that time I had experienced more shame, humiliation and guilt than I had experienced in my entire life previous to my arrival there. It had been constant from the time I set foot in the door. I could no longer comprehend that there was a world beyond those walls. I was forgetting who I was before I got there. I remembered Brianna asking Sally, “What’s the process?”
Lenore opened the door, “You’re still expected to come to dinner Clarence.”
I nodded, staring at the wall. I could see Lenore out the corner of my eye. She stood there watching me, “Clarence, keep moving. That’s all you have to do. The people who stand still in this house are consumed. They go crazy. They start seeing monsters coming out the walls. The shadows start speaking to them. They start cutting and mutilating themselves. Then you find them in the bathtub one morning with their wrists slit.” She walked away.
Her words stuck with me: “Clarence, keep moving. That’s all you have to do.” I made my way to the dining room.
Black Sally slammed her fist on the table: “Justice, that’s what we’re talking about here. A transgression was committed by a member of the family against another member of the family. As a group, we decided on the appropriate action to take and the victim was able to derive some sick satisfaction out of being able to punish the transgressor. I’m proud to say that this table has learned to handle these situations in a civilized manner. I am always fascinated by situations where a sudden twist of fate turns the ‘fucker’ into the ‘fuckee’. This thing with Clarence and Selene is a situation like that. Amazingly, Clarence happens to be at the center of another controversy. This time he’s the ‘fucker’ and one of my possessions was the ‘fuckee’. You all remember our guest last night. Clarence cuffed her, fucked her, shoved a flashlight up her ass and did a couple other things that are so reprehensible, I dare not mention them at Aunt Antonija’s table. Let’s just say that she’ll never be the same again.”
Lavinia asked, “Sally, what do you require of Clarence?”
“Several minutes ago I asked Clarence what he thought would be a suitable punishment for his offense. He proposed that we give him the strap-on.”
Lavinia looked around the table, “Does anyone have any objections?” Nobody spoke out in my defense. “Sally, when are you planning for this event to occur?”
I was very concerned by the words ‘we’ and ‘event’. I said, “I have an objection.” Isabel began laughing hysterically. Lavinia glared at me, “What is your objection Clarence?”
“I have a seat at the table. The person I committed the offense against does not. This isn’t the same as the Selene situation. I shouldn’t have to…”
Lavinia interrupted, “Clarence, are you saying that you’re more important than the other people seated at the table?”
“No, of course not. I…”
“Are you more important than Lenore who sits to your right?”
“No.”
“But you chopped off her hair, beat her, bent her over my desk and viciously sodomized her. Am I right?”
The six women at the table all stared at me, awaiting my answer. I said, “I’ve gone through a lot too…”
“Answer the question,” Lavinia demanded.
“Lenore and I played a game yesterday and it got out of hand.”
Lenore asked, “Clarence, do you know how much it hurts to have a large object shoved up your ass?”
“No.”
Lavinia said, “Then we have nothing else to talk about Clarence. Obviously this is a lesson you need to learn. If you wish to keep arguing the point, I will come up with a punishment that I feel is appropriate. Is that what you want Clarence?”
“No.”
“Then it’s settled. Sally, when is this event to take place?”
“After lunch.”
“Very good.” Lavinia kept glaring at me. I heard her voice in my head, “You have to take your punishment slave. Otherwise, Sally won’t let you back in.”
After lunch, I reluctantly made my way back to my room. Black Sally was standing by my door waiting for me, “Get in there and take your clothes off, then lay facedown on the bed.”
After I stripped and laid on the bed, Sally straddled my back. She used rope to tie my hands to the bedpost. Then she left the room. I laid there waiting; filled with terror and hope. I hoped that Sally would go easy on me. It seemed like I was waiting there forever. I couldn’t stop shaking and sweating. My bladder was full and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold it. The door opened. Lenore, Atrese and Isabel entered the room. Isabel carried a bag. They joked and laughed with each other as they removed their skirts. A few minutes later, the 3 of them stood by my bedside with large dildos attached to their groins.
Lenore knelt down by my head, “Try to relax.” She climbed on top of me. I felt the strap-on in the crack of my ass. I heard her spit. I screamed into the pillow. The mattress springs squeaked, the headboard slammed into the wall. The pain was way beyond what I’d anticipated. The mattress became wet and warm. I panicked thinking that is was blood. I began jerking around and yelling, begging for her stop. Atrese laughed and said, “That bitch knows how to buck back.”
Lenore stopped, got up and yelled, “Look, Clarence pissed himself.” The three women began laughing uproariously. Isabel got on top of me. She pushed the strap-on deep in my ass and moved her hips around. I grunted, yelled and moaned. Snot ran from my nose, tears fell from my eyes. Isabel smacked me on the ass as she fucked me. Atrese cheered her on, “C’mon Isabel. Fuck him! Break that bitches ass in! Yeah! Fuck him. Tear his fucking asshole out!” Isabel got off me, gave Atrese a high-five and said, “Your turn.”
Atrese didn’t just fuck me. She tried to hammer me through the wall. I wondered if I’d ever walk again, it felt like she was going to break my back. As she fucked me she shouted, “You like that don’t you bitch.” and “Take it bitch! Take this cock. Take this cock you nasty fucking whore!” She punched me in side, bit my shoulder and spit on me as tore up my insides. When she was done fucking, she shoved her hand in my ass, then pulled it out and held it front of my face, “Look at all that shit and blood.” She wiped her hand across my face. Then she removed the strap-on, stood over me on the bed, squatted and pissed all over my back. Isabel placed a box of maxi-pads by head, “Here, you might need these sweetheart.” The three women put their skirts back on and left, laughing as they walked out the door.
I laid there cuffed, lying naked in piss and filth. Sally appeared by my side. She untied me and led me to the shower. I could barely walk. She put me in the shower, changed all my bandages and gave me more pain pills. I asked, “Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’? Why did you do that to Brianna?”
Lavinia’s voice spoke in my mind, “Tell her you lost control.”
“I lost control.”
“You lost control? Well you better make sure that doesn’t happen too many times in the future. Do you remember what happened to Evelyn? She lost control too.”
“I’m sorry,”
Black Sally looked me in the eyes, “Go get dressed, I’ll see you at dinner.” She walked out the bathroom. I missed her kiss. I missed the feeling of camaraderie I had felt with her the night before. She had been my only source of light in the house. She saved Brianna’s life and protected her from torture. She showed that she trusted me, by leaving me to have my way with Brianna. I betrayed her trust.
I heard Lavinia in my mind, “Trust has nothing to do with it. Sally does what furthers her agenda. She’s reptilian in her thinking. Love, friendship and ‘doing the right thing’ have nothing to do with it. And what did she protect? She sure the hell didn’t protect the Dominatrix from being tortured by me, did she slave? Your ’source of light’? I am your only source of light. You will be sent back to Sally’s quarters tonight. Didn’t she give you a history lesson slave? She told you that she sits at the right hand of the woman who murdered the old Matriarch. Your Mommy-issues cloud your vision. Are you expecting her to clutch you to her bosom, take care of you and protect you? slave, you have been given a line to follow. You now have light so you can see that line in the darkness. ”
I began to ask out loud, “What li…,” a sharp pain shot up my spine, all my muscles began to cramp and I fell to the floor. I broke out in a sweat, the left side of my body began to go numb. Lavinia’s voice screamed in my head, “I TOLD YOU TO KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT WHEN YOU’RE TALKING TO ME!”
The numbness and cramps immediately went away. The pain subsided. “If you do that again slave, I’ll make you have a stroke.”
After I returned to my room and got dressed, I stood leaning against the wall. I had been in that house for less than two days, during that time I had experienced more shame, humiliation and guilt than I had experienced in my entire life previous to my arrival there. It had been constant from the time I set foot in the door. I could no longer comprehend that there was a world beyond those walls. I was forgetting who I was before I got there. I remembered Brianna asking Sally, “What’s the process?”
Lenore opened the door, “You’re still expected to come to dinner Clarence.”
I nodded, staring at the wall. I could see Lenore out the corner of my eye. She stood there watching me, “Clarence, keep moving. That’s all you have to do. The people who stand still in this house are consumed. They go crazy. They start seeing monsters coming out the walls. The shadows start speaking to them. They start cutting and mutilating themselves. Then you find them in the bathtub one morning with their wrists slit.” She walked away.
Her words stuck with me: “Clarence, keep moving. That’s all you have to do.” I made my way to the dining room.
Brutality 1
She didn’t tell me much about the scenario. She never did. All I knew was that there was a married couple that wanted something the Gothic Girl’s friend was unwilling to provide. Her friend referred the couple to the Gothic Girl. I knew that it was going to be an event as all of the “pets” were to be in attendance.
The four of us rode in a car out to a shopping center in a suburb of the city. Robert drove, the Gothic Girl sat in the passenger seat. I sat in the back with Evelyn. The two of us were forming an unspoken bond borne out of the pleasure and pain that we had inflicted on each other.
Robert pulled up alongside a beat up white Chevy Caprice. Four young black men sat slouched in the car. Smoke drifted from the windows. I had known these types of characters all of my life. They were dangerous. The Gothic Girl got out of the car along with the man who rode shotgun in the Caprice. He was dark-skinned, bald-headed and wore an over-sized white t-shirt. The two of them walked a short distance away from the car, then stopped and faced each other. My heart pounded in my chest. The Gothic Girl had a habit of putting me in positions that brought on that reaction. The presence of the thugs made it pound harder. It wasn’t the thugs that frightened me. It was their relation to the Gothic Girl and whatever their role would be in the events of the evening.
I hoped the couple had requested some sort of drug and this was one of the Gothic Girl’s connections. But I had an ominous sense that wouldn’t be the case. The Gothic Girl and the roughneck stood a few feet apart. The Gothic Girl appeared to be doing all the talking, emphasizing points with a finger that occasionally pointed to ground. I knew that it wasn’t about drugs. I wondered if the couple had any idea what kind of person the Pro-Domme had referred them to. I wondered if the couple had done something to piss the Pro-Domme off. If so, it must have been pretty bad. The scenario was filling itself in. A mixture of fear, dread and excitement rose within me.
The Gothic Girl returned to the car. She said, “Let’s go.” We pulled off and I braved a question, “Who are your friends?”
She replied, “Those are friends of The Great Sathanas.”
“Are they going to be there tonight?”
“I thought it was white women that are supposed to clutch their purses at the sight of young black men, not other black men.”
“How come your friend doesn’t want to do what this couple is asking for? I mean, she gets paid for it, right?”
The Gothic Girl turned in her seat to look at me. She replied: “My friend is a sensible businesswoman,. This sort of thing is too high-risk for her. It violates her ethics and is beyond her capabilities. You’re a smart man Clarence. And I know that you have experience with dangerous people and dangerous situations. I’m guessing that your excitement and fear has disabled your judgment. Because you know this isn’t the time, or place, to be asking a bunch of fucking questions.”
My face felt like it was going to burst into flames.
She whispered, “Look at me.”
I turned my head and looked her in the eyes.
She said, “You thought you were a dead man that night at the party. But it didn’t happen like that. That was my choice. I chose to allow you to be a witness to pain and suffering rather than being a victim of it. You are not tied up back there Clarence. I am not holding you prisoner. You are here because you want to be and this is who you are. You are in love with me Clarence. You are in love with my power, my freedom, my cruelty and my mercy. You are in love with the love I have shown you, the way I have enlightened you as to the true nature of your soul, the power I have given you, the pleasures I have shown you, the burdens and responsibilities that I have lifted from you.”
My thoughts and emotions ran together into an incomprehensible soup.
She looked me in the eyes and said, “I love you Clarence.”
I replied, “I love you too.”
She turned back around in her seat and handed Robert a piece of paper. She said, “That’s the address. The garage door will be open. Pull straight into the garage.”
Evelyn nudged my shoulder, pulled a monstrous black strap-on dildo from under her seat and flicked her tongue at me.
We pulled into the garage. The Gothic Girl turned and flung her arm over the back of the seat. She held a large revolver in her hand. She said, “Here it is. We walk in that door. I go first. The husband will be sitting in a recliner by the door. I’ll put this to his head and force him to the floor. Clarence,” Evelyn handed me two sets of handcuffs, “you cuff his hands behind his back. Then you and Evelyn will go upstairs, second door on the right, cuff the wife and bring her downstairs.” Evelyn pulled a small pistol from her jacket.
The Gothic Girl continued: “Robert, you stay in the car and wait for our friends. Shut the garage door behind them and keep them up here until I send for you. Does everyone know what you’re supposed to do?”
We all said, “Yes” like a bunch of school kids answering their teacher in unison.
I walked in behind the Gothic Girl. She put the gun to the man’s head and ordered him to the floor. She told him to put his hands behind his back. He complied without protest. I cuffed him, then I followed Evelyn up the stairs. We walked in on the wife as she sat at a vanity table brushing her hair. She gazed at our reflection in the mirror without shock or the slightest hint of surprise. She was an attractive, voluptuous woman who appeared to be in her 30’s. She had dirty blonde hair. She wore only a white silk slip that came up to the middle of her thighs. Evelyn walked over to her, put the gun to her head and ordered her to the floor. I cuffed her hands behind her back, stopping to admire her well-shaped ass sheathed in a thin layer of silk.
We brought the woman downstairs. The Gothic Girl had the husband standing up. He was your average middle-aged white suburbanite; brown hair with a touch of grey, pale skin, glasses and few extra pounds. He watched us walk his wife down the stairs with a look of confident amusement.
The Gothic Girl said solemnly, “We’re taking them down to the basement.”
The couple’s basement was set-up for rough play. There were two chains hanging from the ceiling with wrist-restraints attached. There was a table on one side of the room with wrists and ankle restraints. There was another table on the other side with an assortment of instruments laid out on it. A video camera sat on a tripod.
The husband looked at the Gothic Girl skeptically and said, “You’re not what I expected.”
The Gothic Girl replied with a knee to his balls that brought him to his knees. She walked over, picked up the tripod by its legs and smashed the camera against the floor. She then turned to Evelyn and commanded, “Put the wife on her knees. Then get those ball-gags and shut them up.”
The wife shouted, “What the fuck did you break our camera for? Hank, I thought you said…”
The wife was silenced by a shock from Evelyn’s stun-gun. She fell straight to the floor. The husband’s eyes widened. Evelyn put the stun-gun back in the pocket of her long black coat. Then she got the ball-gags and fastened them on the husband and the semi-conscious wife. The Gothic Girl walked around the room in silent contemplation. She walked over to the table with the instruments, picked up a tickler and threw it back on the table.
The Gothic Girl turned to the husband and said, “That was very kind of you to have all this laid out for me. But I don’t see any Crayola color crayons. Did you forget the Crayolas Hank?”
The husband wrinkled his brow bewildered. She added, “I don’t need a box of color crayons just like I don’t need this shit right here.” She flipped the table over flinging its contents across the floor. She pulled a long pair of scissors from her coat, handed them to me and said, “Cut the husband’s clothes off. Evelyn will help if you need it.”
The wife regained consciousness and tried to rise to her feet. The Gothic Girl grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the chains hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room. She looked at Evelyn and ordered, “Grab that chair, get up there and unfasten that chain from the ceiling. Take the wrist restraints off both chains. Fasten one end of this chain to that one, then clasp it on the chain of her cuffs.”
The husband stared with wide eyes. His face was a few shades paler than it was when I first saw him. After Evelyn completed her task, the Gothic Girl disappeared up the stairs. As I cut off the husband’s clothes, I could hear her rummaging through the house, dumping drawers and slamming cupboards. The husband and wife both stared at the ceiling.
A tool box came clanging down the stairs. It bust open at the bottom spilling screwdrivers and wrenches across the floor. Other items followed. A salt container with the umbrella girl on it, a rolling pin, a meat mallet, a box of nails, a plunger, bottled water containers and other miscellaneous items followed by a shower of belts and extension cords landing at the bottom of the stairs.
Evelyn circled the room like a lioness. She removed her coat revealing a black leather corset and a long black skirt. She unzipped the skirt in the back and let it fall to her ankles. She wore tight leather “daisy duke” style shorts and leather boots that laced up to her knees. Her long slender legs rose from the boots to her perfect hips and ass. She set her coat on the bondage table, pulled the huge black strap-on from it, held it up for all to admire and placed it on the table.
Evelyn walked over to the wife and slapped her across the face so hard it rocked her head. The sound of the slap was so loud and sharp that, at first, I thought her little pistol had gone off.
The Gothic Girl appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She signaled to Evelyn and raised her arms. Evelyn promptly walked over and removed her jacket. The Gothic Girl was dressed simple. She wore a long black skirt that went down past her knees, overlapping her knee-high black boots. She wore a black t-shirt. A long gold chain with skull pendant adorned her chest. She gathered her long, black hair and twisted it in a bun. While she held her hair in place with one hand, she pulled a hair-clasp from the waist-band of her skirt with the other. She pulled two long sharp, shiny hairpins from a pocket in her skirt and slid them into her bun. They protruded from either side of her bun like the horns of a demon.
The Gothic Girl reached her hand out to her side. Evelyn pulled a pair of safety goggles from her jacket placed them in her hand. The Gothic Girl put the goggles on and reached her hand out again. Evelyn handed her a cheap white dust mask which the Gothic Girl placed over her nose and mouth. Then Evelyn handed her a pair of long black latex gloves. The Gothic Girl pulled the gloves on up to her elbows. She wouldn’t utter a word for the rest of the night. From then on she communicated only by pointing, signals and nods.
I had cut every article of clothing off the husband. The only the thing left was a gold chain around his neck. The Gothic Girl looked at me, pointed at the husband, then pointed to a spot on the floor, a few feet in front of his wife. I pulled the husband to his feet and led him to the designated spot. He got on his knees without being told.
The Gothic Girl grabbed four leather belts from the bottom of the stairs. She walked over to the husband and stood over him, looking down on him. She jerked the gold chain off his neck and slipped it into a pocket of her skirt. The wife looked on in shock.
The Gothic Girl held a belt out to her side. Evelyn walked over and grabbed it. She held out another one. I took it in my hand. The belt in my hand was wide and thick. The Gothic Girl bent her belts in half and brandished one in each hand. Evelyn and I halved our belts to match the Gothic Girl’s. The Gothic Girl struck the man across the chest with one belt and lashed him across the back with the other. The man tensed at the pain.
Evelyn brought her belt down hard across the man’s chest. I lashed him across the back. We took turns delivering blows, building a rhythm that steadily increased in tempo and ferocity. The sound of the whipping reminded me of a hard rainfall. The man tried to rise to his feet. I slammed the bottom of my foot into his back and pushed him to the floor.
The man was on his knees, my boot on his back, his face pressed against the floor as the blows continued to rain down on his arms, back, neck and head. I had to move my leg as half of Evelyn’s blows were striking me. When the man’s prone body was fully exposed again, the blows came down in a vicious frenzy. I looked at the wife. I saw a tear fall from her eye. When the lashing ceased, the man looked like a handcuffed, swollen, bleeding, crimson welt with hair.
Evelyn dropped her belt, walked over to the wife, lifted her slip and started playing with her clit and fingering her pussy. The wife closed her eyes and threw her head back. The Gothic Girl pointed at me, then at the man trembling on the floor. I understood the command. But I didn’t like it. However, refusing could have put me in a similar situation to the man on the floor.
I undid my belt, button and zipper. My pants fell to the floor with a clang. I pushed down my boxers and pointed at my hanging limp dick. I was trying to tell her that the man’s ass was not appealing to me. She hit Evelyn on the shoulder and pointed at my cock. Evelyn abruptly stopped what she was doing, walked over to me and dropped to her knees. She caressed my balls with a firm hand and took my limp dick in her mouth. She sucked it hard. It stiffened in her mouth. She sucked and stroked me until my cock was rock hard and throbbing. Then she rose to her feet, looked me in the eye and wiped off her mouth.
I dropped to my knees behind the man and shoved my cock in his ass. I fucked him hard. My hips slammed into his buttocks as I plunged my cock deep inside him. I saw Evelyn go to the table and put on the strap-on. She looked both menacing and ridiculous with the 12+ inch black dildo protruding from her groin. However, the sight of Evelyn in a strap-on added stiffness to my softening cock.
Evelyn walked over, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Let me get some of that shit.” The Gothic Girl went to her jacket and pulled out her gun. Evelyn kneeled behind the man, spit a few times on the head of her dildo, then she pushed the monstrosity into his ass. I heard the man’s muffled scream.
The Gothic Girl kneeled in front of the man’s head and motioned for me to come over. She unfastened the ball gag and flung it aside. She grabbed a handful his hair, lifted his head, shoved the barrel of the gun in his mouth and cocked back the hammer. I knelt down beside the Gothic Girl.
Evelyn started shouting, “You like that don’t you, you little bitch. You like the way I fuck your ass.” She slapped his ass and pounded the full length of the dildo into him, over and over again.
The wife was crying and shaking her head. The Gothic Girl nodded at me, pulled the barrel of the gun out of the man’s mouth and held it to his head. I positioned myself in front of him. Evelyn slapped him hard on the ass and screamed, “Oh yeah, suck that dick. Suck all the shit off his dick you little fucking punk bitch,” as she pounded him in the ass even harder.
I put my cock up to the man’s lips. He took it in his mouth and sucked. Evelyn shouted, “Fuck his face. Fuck that bitches face while I fuck him in the ass. Choke him out. Make him gag on your cock.” I felt the Gothic Girl squeeze my shoulder. I pushed my cock all the way into the man’s throat and held it there. When I pulled my dick out of his mouth, he puked on the floor. The Gothic Girl grabbed the back of his head and shoved his face into the vomit. Then she handed me the pistol, rose to her feet and pulled Evelyn away from the man’s ass.
I put the gun to the man’s head and lifted it by the hair. Evelyn kneeled down beside me. She ran her fingertips up the length of the dildo and showed them to me. There was blood. Then the man screamed like a girl in a horror movie. The Gothic Girl was on her knees behind the man. From where I was at, it looked like she had her whole arm up his ass.
Evelyn silenced his scream by shoving the dildo in his mouth. She tried to force every inch of that dildo down his throat. She screamed out, “Suck that bitch, you little fucking slut. Suck this dick.” She managed to shove the dildo three-quarters of the way into the man’s mouth. She held it there. He wriggled around and his face turned blue. I thought she was going to choke him to death. When she pulled the dildo out of his mouth, he vomited all over it. Evelyn ran her hand up the length of the dildo and wiped the filth all over the man’s face.
The man just let out a steady “Aaahh!” I stood to see what the Gothic Girl was doing. She had her arm in his ass up to her elbow and was wriggling it around inside him. She pulled her arm out of his ass. There was a nasty sucking sound as her fist exited the man’s anus.
I looked at the wife. She wasn’t crying anymore. Her eyes were dim. She just stared at the ground. I could read on her face the feeling that filled her existence at that time, dread. She knew that her turn was coming and that she would get it a lot worse than the husband.
The Gothic Girl made a circular motion with her hand. Evelyn and I flipped the man over. He was face-up lying on his cuffed hands. His face was a mask of fear, horror, pain and shame. Evelyn started laughing and pointing at the man’s limp, shrunken dick. She looked at the wife and mocked, “That’s what he fucks you with? No wonder you don’t have any kids. Look at that little-dick bitch you call a husband. But don’t worry sweetie. You’re gonna get fucked by some real men tonight. I know you can’t wait to have every hole of your sexy body stretched by a long, thick cock.” The wife’s dimmed eyes widened and her brow wrinkled.
My attention shifted to the Gothic Girl. She was going through the tools scattered on the floor. She came up with a pair of vice-grips and a large Phillips screwdriver. Evelyn went silent as death. She looked at me, then down at the husband. Both of us were thinking the same thing, “He’s in for an unspeakable amount of pain.”
All eyes were on the Gothic Girl as she knelt between the man’s legs with her tools. She set the tools aside and began massaging the man’s dick and balls. My cock got hard at the sight of the Gothic Girl’s skill with her hands. As the man’s dick hardened, she caressed his balls, then spit on her glove and began sliding it up and down the length of the man’s cock. His eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned. When the man was fully erect, she picked up the screwdriver, spit on it, spread the saliva over the surface of the steel and inserted the screwdriver into the hole at the head of the man’s dick.
The Gothic Girl gripped the man’s hard cock with one hand and pushed screwdriver in with the other. She pushed it in about halfway, which was almost the full-length of his cock. She let go of the dick and screwdriver. It slapped against his stomach with a “Thwap!” The man yelled out “Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuck!” She stood up, took a few steps back and tilted her head as she looked at her work. She reminded me of an artist contemplating his canvas, or a woman rearranging her living room, thinking about where she wants to put the chair.
She pulled a length of thread from her skirt and kneeled between the man’s legs. I couldn’t see what she was doing. I could just see that her hands were busy. When she stood up again, the man’s genitals looked like some sort of an abomination. The thread was wrapped tight around his cock and balls at the base. His genitals were turning blue from the lack of circulation. And then there was the screwdriver stuffed in his cock.
The Gothic Girl knelt between the man’s legs again, picked up the vice-grips, adjusted them and clamped them across the head of the man’s cock. The man screamed. She pulled one of the shiny steel hair-pins from her bun and slowly pierced one of the man’s purple testicles with it. The man screamed louder. She pulled the other hair-pin from her hair and pierced the man’s other testicle. She stood up to admire her work.
The screaming man writhed around on the floor. His genitals tightly bound and turning a darker shade of purple, a screwdriver protruding from his cock and two hairpins sticking out of his balls. The whole contraption shook as the man writhed around. Then the Gothic Girl lifted her boot and stomped on the man’s tortured genitals. The man looked like he was being electrocuted. His whole body tensed and shook. His eyes rolled back, he foamed at the mouth; he lost consciousness.
The Gothic Girl pointed at Evelyn, then at the ceiling. Evelyn disappeared up the stairs. When the wife saw the goggles and white mask turn their attention toward her, tears began to flow from her eyes and she shook her head.
Heavy footsteps could be heard upstairs. The wife’s expression changed to an even deeper shade of serious as she looked up at the ceiling. There were loud voices and laughing; it sounded like a herd of cattle were descending the stairs…
The four of us rode in a car out to a shopping center in a suburb of the city. Robert drove, the Gothic Girl sat in the passenger seat. I sat in the back with Evelyn. The two of us were forming an unspoken bond borne out of the pleasure and pain that we had inflicted on each other.
Robert pulled up alongside a beat up white Chevy Caprice. Four young black men sat slouched in the car. Smoke drifted from the windows. I had known these types of characters all of my life. They were dangerous. The Gothic Girl got out of the car along with the man who rode shotgun in the Caprice. He was dark-skinned, bald-headed and wore an over-sized white t-shirt. The two of them walked a short distance away from the car, then stopped and faced each other. My heart pounded in my chest. The Gothic Girl had a habit of putting me in positions that brought on that reaction. The presence of the thugs made it pound harder. It wasn’t the thugs that frightened me. It was their relation to the Gothic Girl and whatever their role would be in the events of the evening.
I hoped the couple had requested some sort of drug and this was one of the Gothic Girl’s connections. But I had an ominous sense that wouldn’t be the case. The Gothic Girl and the roughneck stood a few feet apart. The Gothic Girl appeared to be doing all the talking, emphasizing points with a finger that occasionally pointed to ground. I knew that it wasn’t about drugs. I wondered if the couple had any idea what kind of person the Pro-Domme had referred them to. I wondered if the couple had done something to piss the Pro-Domme off. If so, it must have been pretty bad. The scenario was filling itself in. A mixture of fear, dread and excitement rose within me.
The Gothic Girl returned to the car. She said, “Let’s go.” We pulled off and I braved a question, “Who are your friends?”
She replied, “Those are friends of The Great Sathanas.”
“Are they going to be there tonight?”
“I thought it was white women that are supposed to clutch their purses at the sight of young black men, not other black men.”
“How come your friend doesn’t want to do what this couple is asking for? I mean, she gets paid for it, right?”
The Gothic Girl turned in her seat to look at me. She replied: “My friend is a sensible businesswoman,. This sort of thing is too high-risk for her. It violates her ethics and is beyond her capabilities. You’re a smart man Clarence. And I know that you have experience with dangerous people and dangerous situations. I’m guessing that your excitement and fear has disabled your judgment. Because you know this isn’t the time, or place, to be asking a bunch of fucking questions.”
My face felt like it was going to burst into flames.
She whispered, “Look at me.”
I turned my head and looked her in the eyes.
She said, “You thought you were a dead man that night at the party. But it didn’t happen like that. That was my choice. I chose to allow you to be a witness to pain and suffering rather than being a victim of it. You are not tied up back there Clarence. I am not holding you prisoner. You are here because you want to be and this is who you are. You are in love with me Clarence. You are in love with my power, my freedom, my cruelty and my mercy. You are in love with the love I have shown you, the way I have enlightened you as to the true nature of your soul, the power I have given you, the pleasures I have shown you, the burdens and responsibilities that I have lifted from you.”
My thoughts and emotions ran together into an incomprehensible soup.
She looked me in the eyes and said, “I love you Clarence.”
I replied, “I love you too.”
She turned back around in her seat and handed Robert a piece of paper. She said, “That’s the address. The garage door will be open. Pull straight into the garage.”
Evelyn nudged my shoulder, pulled a monstrous black strap-on dildo from under her seat and flicked her tongue at me.
We pulled into the garage. The Gothic Girl turned and flung her arm over the back of the seat. She held a large revolver in her hand. She said, “Here it is. We walk in that door. I go first. The husband will be sitting in a recliner by the door. I’ll put this to his head and force him to the floor. Clarence,” Evelyn handed me two sets of handcuffs, “you cuff his hands behind his back. Then you and Evelyn will go upstairs, second door on the right, cuff the wife and bring her downstairs.” Evelyn pulled a small pistol from her jacket.
The Gothic Girl continued: “Robert, you stay in the car and wait for our friends. Shut the garage door behind them and keep them up here until I send for you. Does everyone know what you’re supposed to do?”
We all said, “Yes” like a bunch of school kids answering their teacher in unison.
I walked in behind the Gothic Girl. She put the gun to the man’s head and ordered him to the floor. She told him to put his hands behind his back. He complied without protest. I cuffed him, then I followed Evelyn up the stairs. We walked in on the wife as she sat at a vanity table brushing her hair. She gazed at our reflection in the mirror without shock or the slightest hint of surprise. She was an attractive, voluptuous woman who appeared to be in her 30’s. She had dirty blonde hair. She wore only a white silk slip that came up to the middle of her thighs. Evelyn walked over to her, put the gun to her head and ordered her to the floor. I cuffed her hands behind her back, stopping to admire her well-shaped ass sheathed in a thin layer of silk.
We brought the woman downstairs. The Gothic Girl had the husband standing up. He was your average middle-aged white suburbanite; brown hair with a touch of grey, pale skin, glasses and few extra pounds. He watched us walk his wife down the stairs with a look of confident amusement.
The Gothic Girl said solemnly, “We’re taking them down to the basement.”
The couple’s basement was set-up for rough play. There were two chains hanging from the ceiling with wrist-restraints attached. There was a table on one side of the room with wrists and ankle restraints. There was another table on the other side with an assortment of instruments laid out on it. A video camera sat on a tripod.
The husband looked at the Gothic Girl skeptically and said, “You’re not what I expected.”
The Gothic Girl replied with a knee to his balls that brought him to his knees. She walked over, picked up the tripod by its legs and smashed the camera against the floor. She then turned to Evelyn and commanded, “Put the wife on her knees. Then get those ball-gags and shut them up.”
The wife shouted, “What the fuck did you break our camera for? Hank, I thought you said…”
The wife was silenced by a shock from Evelyn’s stun-gun. She fell straight to the floor. The husband’s eyes widened. Evelyn put the stun-gun back in the pocket of her long black coat. Then she got the ball-gags and fastened them on the husband and the semi-conscious wife. The Gothic Girl walked around the room in silent contemplation. She walked over to the table with the instruments, picked up a tickler and threw it back on the table.
The Gothic Girl turned to the husband and said, “That was very kind of you to have all this laid out for me. But I don’t see any Crayola color crayons. Did you forget the Crayolas Hank?”
The husband wrinkled his brow bewildered. She added, “I don’t need a box of color crayons just like I don’t need this shit right here.” She flipped the table over flinging its contents across the floor. She pulled a long pair of scissors from her coat, handed them to me and said, “Cut the husband’s clothes off. Evelyn will help if you need it.”
The wife regained consciousness and tried to rise to her feet. The Gothic Girl grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the chains hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room. She looked at Evelyn and ordered, “Grab that chair, get up there and unfasten that chain from the ceiling. Take the wrist restraints off both chains. Fasten one end of this chain to that one, then clasp it on the chain of her cuffs.”
The husband stared with wide eyes. His face was a few shades paler than it was when I first saw him. After Evelyn completed her task, the Gothic Girl disappeared up the stairs. As I cut off the husband’s clothes, I could hear her rummaging through the house, dumping drawers and slamming cupboards. The husband and wife both stared at the ceiling.
A tool box came clanging down the stairs. It bust open at the bottom spilling screwdrivers and wrenches across the floor. Other items followed. A salt container with the umbrella girl on it, a rolling pin, a meat mallet, a box of nails, a plunger, bottled water containers and other miscellaneous items followed by a shower of belts and extension cords landing at the bottom of the stairs.
Evelyn circled the room like a lioness. She removed her coat revealing a black leather corset and a long black skirt. She unzipped the skirt in the back and let it fall to her ankles. She wore tight leather “daisy duke” style shorts and leather boots that laced up to her knees. Her long slender legs rose from the boots to her perfect hips and ass. She set her coat on the bondage table, pulled the huge black strap-on from it, held it up for all to admire and placed it on the table.
Evelyn walked over to the wife and slapped her across the face so hard it rocked her head. The sound of the slap was so loud and sharp that, at first, I thought her little pistol had gone off.
The Gothic Girl appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She signaled to Evelyn and raised her arms. Evelyn promptly walked over and removed her jacket. The Gothic Girl was dressed simple. She wore a long black skirt that went down past her knees, overlapping her knee-high black boots. She wore a black t-shirt. A long gold chain with skull pendant adorned her chest. She gathered her long, black hair and twisted it in a bun. While she held her hair in place with one hand, she pulled a hair-clasp from the waist-band of her skirt with the other. She pulled two long sharp, shiny hairpins from a pocket in her skirt and slid them into her bun. They protruded from either side of her bun like the horns of a demon.
The Gothic Girl reached her hand out to her side. Evelyn pulled a pair of safety goggles from her jacket placed them in her hand. The Gothic Girl put the goggles on and reached her hand out again. Evelyn handed her a cheap white dust mask which the Gothic Girl placed over her nose and mouth. Then Evelyn handed her a pair of long black latex gloves. The Gothic Girl pulled the gloves on up to her elbows. She wouldn’t utter a word for the rest of the night. From then on she communicated only by pointing, signals and nods.
I had cut every article of clothing off the husband. The only the thing left was a gold chain around his neck. The Gothic Girl looked at me, pointed at the husband, then pointed to a spot on the floor, a few feet in front of his wife. I pulled the husband to his feet and led him to the designated spot. He got on his knees without being told.
The Gothic Girl grabbed four leather belts from the bottom of the stairs. She walked over to the husband and stood over him, looking down on him. She jerked the gold chain off his neck and slipped it into a pocket of her skirt. The wife looked on in shock.
The Gothic Girl held a belt out to her side. Evelyn walked over and grabbed it. She held out another one. I took it in my hand. The belt in my hand was wide and thick. The Gothic Girl bent her belts in half and brandished one in each hand. Evelyn and I halved our belts to match the Gothic Girl’s. The Gothic Girl struck the man across the chest with one belt and lashed him across the back with the other. The man tensed at the pain.
Evelyn brought her belt down hard across the man’s chest. I lashed him across the back. We took turns delivering blows, building a rhythm that steadily increased in tempo and ferocity. The sound of the whipping reminded me of a hard rainfall. The man tried to rise to his feet. I slammed the bottom of my foot into his back and pushed him to the floor.
The man was on his knees, my boot on his back, his face pressed against the floor as the blows continued to rain down on his arms, back, neck and head. I had to move my leg as half of Evelyn’s blows were striking me. When the man’s prone body was fully exposed again, the blows came down in a vicious frenzy. I looked at the wife. I saw a tear fall from her eye. When the lashing ceased, the man looked like a handcuffed, swollen, bleeding, crimson welt with hair.
Evelyn dropped her belt, walked over to the wife, lifted her slip and started playing with her clit and fingering her pussy. The wife closed her eyes and threw her head back. The Gothic Girl pointed at me, then at the man trembling on the floor. I understood the command. But I didn’t like it. However, refusing could have put me in a similar situation to the man on the floor.
I undid my belt, button and zipper. My pants fell to the floor with a clang. I pushed down my boxers and pointed at my hanging limp dick. I was trying to tell her that the man’s ass was not appealing to me. She hit Evelyn on the shoulder and pointed at my cock. Evelyn abruptly stopped what she was doing, walked over to me and dropped to her knees. She caressed my balls with a firm hand and took my limp dick in her mouth. She sucked it hard. It stiffened in her mouth. She sucked and stroked me until my cock was rock hard and throbbing. Then she rose to her feet, looked me in the eye and wiped off her mouth.
I dropped to my knees behind the man and shoved my cock in his ass. I fucked him hard. My hips slammed into his buttocks as I plunged my cock deep inside him. I saw Evelyn go to the table and put on the strap-on. She looked both menacing and ridiculous with the 12+ inch black dildo protruding from her groin. However, the sight of Evelyn in a strap-on added stiffness to my softening cock.
Evelyn walked over, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Let me get some of that shit.” The Gothic Girl went to her jacket and pulled out her gun. Evelyn kneeled behind the man, spit a few times on the head of her dildo, then she pushed the monstrosity into his ass. I heard the man’s muffled scream.
The Gothic Girl kneeled in front of the man’s head and motioned for me to come over. She unfastened the ball gag and flung it aside. She grabbed a handful his hair, lifted his head, shoved the barrel of the gun in his mouth and cocked back the hammer. I knelt down beside the Gothic Girl.
Evelyn started shouting, “You like that don’t you, you little bitch. You like the way I fuck your ass.” She slapped his ass and pounded the full length of the dildo into him, over and over again.
The wife was crying and shaking her head. The Gothic Girl nodded at me, pulled the barrel of the gun out of the man’s mouth and held it to his head. I positioned myself in front of him. Evelyn slapped him hard on the ass and screamed, “Oh yeah, suck that dick. Suck all the shit off his dick you little fucking punk bitch,” as she pounded him in the ass even harder.
I put my cock up to the man’s lips. He took it in his mouth and sucked. Evelyn shouted, “Fuck his face. Fuck that bitches face while I fuck him in the ass. Choke him out. Make him gag on your cock.” I felt the Gothic Girl squeeze my shoulder. I pushed my cock all the way into the man’s throat and held it there. When I pulled my dick out of his mouth, he puked on the floor. The Gothic Girl grabbed the back of his head and shoved his face into the vomit. Then she handed me the pistol, rose to her feet and pulled Evelyn away from the man’s ass.
I put the gun to the man’s head and lifted it by the hair. Evelyn kneeled down beside me. She ran her fingertips up the length of the dildo and showed them to me. There was blood. Then the man screamed like a girl in a horror movie. The Gothic Girl was on her knees behind the man. From where I was at, it looked like she had her whole arm up his ass.
Evelyn silenced his scream by shoving the dildo in his mouth. She tried to force every inch of that dildo down his throat. She screamed out, “Suck that bitch, you little fucking slut. Suck this dick.” She managed to shove the dildo three-quarters of the way into the man’s mouth. She held it there. He wriggled around and his face turned blue. I thought she was going to choke him to death. When she pulled the dildo out of his mouth, he vomited all over it. Evelyn ran her hand up the length of the dildo and wiped the filth all over the man’s face.
The man just let out a steady “Aaahh!” I stood to see what the Gothic Girl was doing. She had her arm in his ass up to her elbow and was wriggling it around inside him. She pulled her arm out of his ass. There was a nasty sucking sound as her fist exited the man’s anus.
I looked at the wife. She wasn’t crying anymore. Her eyes were dim. She just stared at the ground. I could read on her face the feeling that filled her existence at that time, dread. She knew that her turn was coming and that she would get it a lot worse than the husband.
The Gothic Girl made a circular motion with her hand. Evelyn and I flipped the man over. He was face-up lying on his cuffed hands. His face was a mask of fear, horror, pain and shame. Evelyn started laughing and pointing at the man’s limp, shrunken dick. She looked at the wife and mocked, “That’s what he fucks you with? No wonder you don’t have any kids. Look at that little-dick bitch you call a husband. But don’t worry sweetie. You’re gonna get fucked by some real men tonight. I know you can’t wait to have every hole of your sexy body stretched by a long, thick cock.” The wife’s dimmed eyes widened and her brow wrinkled.
My attention shifted to the Gothic Girl. She was going through the tools scattered on the floor. She came up with a pair of vice-grips and a large Phillips screwdriver. Evelyn went silent as death. She looked at me, then down at the husband. Both of us were thinking the same thing, “He’s in for an unspeakable amount of pain.”
All eyes were on the Gothic Girl as she knelt between the man’s legs with her tools. She set the tools aside and began massaging the man’s dick and balls. My cock got hard at the sight of the Gothic Girl’s skill with her hands. As the man’s dick hardened, she caressed his balls, then spit on her glove and began sliding it up and down the length of the man’s cock. His eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned. When the man was fully erect, she picked up the screwdriver, spit on it, spread the saliva over the surface of the steel and inserted the screwdriver into the hole at the head of the man’s dick.
The Gothic Girl gripped the man’s hard cock with one hand and pushed screwdriver in with the other. She pushed it in about halfway, which was almost the full-length of his cock. She let go of the dick and screwdriver. It slapped against his stomach with a “Thwap!” The man yelled out “Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuck!” She stood up, took a few steps back and tilted her head as she looked at her work. She reminded me of an artist contemplating his canvas, or a woman rearranging her living room, thinking about where she wants to put the chair.
She pulled a length of thread from her skirt and kneeled between the man’s legs. I couldn’t see what she was doing. I could just see that her hands were busy. When she stood up again, the man’s genitals looked like some sort of an abomination. The thread was wrapped tight around his cock and balls at the base. His genitals were turning blue from the lack of circulation. And then there was the screwdriver stuffed in his cock.
The Gothic Girl knelt between the man’s legs again, picked up the vice-grips, adjusted them and clamped them across the head of the man’s cock. The man screamed. She pulled one of the shiny steel hair-pins from her bun and slowly pierced one of the man’s purple testicles with it. The man screamed louder. She pulled the other hair-pin from her hair and pierced the man’s other testicle. She stood up to admire her work.
The screaming man writhed around on the floor. His genitals tightly bound and turning a darker shade of purple, a screwdriver protruding from his cock and two hairpins sticking out of his balls. The whole contraption shook as the man writhed around. Then the Gothic Girl lifted her boot and stomped on the man’s tortured genitals. The man looked like he was being electrocuted. His whole body tensed and shook. His eyes rolled back, he foamed at the mouth; he lost consciousness.
The Gothic Girl pointed at Evelyn, then at the ceiling. Evelyn disappeared up the stairs. When the wife saw the goggles and white mask turn their attention toward her, tears began to flow from her eyes and she shook her head.
Heavy footsteps could be heard upstairs. The wife’s expression changed to an even deeper shade of serious as she looked up at the ceiling. There were loud voices and laughing; it sounded like a herd of cattle were descending the stairs…
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