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Tales 12

Tales 11

Tales Vol.9

Deep Waters

Tales NHSP 8

Challenge of Love

Tales Vol. 1

Coming of Age

In The Dark II

Breanne's Three - Chicago BDSM

The Society of the Golden Rose

The Silver Locke

Michael Alexander Stories

Choose Your Own Destiny - The Club

 

16c – Punishment on the Rack

Together, you walk across to one of the available racks, a long solid wood monstrosity that somehow looks terribly appropriate in this modern and sophisticated dungeon.  It is not some rough hewn slapdash construction, but a polished, darkened crafted piece of furniture that obviously saw the loving hands of a master carpenter.  You can’t help wondering what he was thinking when he put it together.  Was he allowed to test it?  Was his wife or girlfriend the first woman to suffer and orgasm on its unforgiving surface?

It doesn’t matter because Breanne is next and she lies down upon the leather pad affixed to the surface of the table rack with something akin to resignation, but tinged with need.  She lifts her arms above her head and you quickly bind the wrist cuffs to the top of the table.  They are stretched tight, pulling her arms straight out.  Her ankles are placed in similar restraint.   In moments you notice that this rack, unlike the originals from medieval times, places permanent tension on the limbs of its victim.  While the crank is there, it does nothing, a show piece, a prop, nothing more.  You shrug.  You had no intention of dislocating her shoulder sockets.  Your goal is sexual torment.  The rack is to immobilize her, not render her broken, at least not physically. 

Sexually however, you relish the ability to have free reign with her body.  Her moist slit, still wet, still swollen, still red, from your previous torments beckons with an almost inhuman grace.  Her skin, marred from earlier punishments glows healthy, the contrast of creamy swell to red welt a marvel of desire.  Your fingers glide along her body, touching, feeling, enjoying the texture of her.  At various points you even bend down, tongue extended to taste her.  You hear her whimpers, her groans of need, her scent of arousal, her entire form filling your senses perfectly.

The small side table filled with toys sits patiently while you explore every nook and cranny of this delicate wench strapped down beside you.  There are a number of things you could do to her, and intend to, but you browse through the selection with one hand on her breast, the other pawing through the various toys, gels, clamps, and oils.  You ignore the candles for the moment.  They have been lit for quite a while and you see the pools of wax, but you intend to draw this out.  She needs to be tortured first before being cooked.

Your eyes suddenly spy something on the other side of the table, tucked in a corner and your eyebrows rise as excitement courses through your body.  You let go of Breanne’s breast and move to the small cart.  An electronic device sits there patiently, its black plastic frame sporting two dials.  You quickly pick it up, recognizing its potential.  One dial is labeled “pulse width” and the other “frequency”.  Two sets of wires, along with two very special surgical type forceps, sit next to it.  The black wires quite obviously plug into the electronic device, while the other ends lead up to the ends of the forceps, disappearing into plastic red and black terminals on each side of the clamp.  Exposed metal seems to gleam from the insides of the terminals. 

There are four sets of the clamps and you roll the small cart over next to Breanne.  With a grin you pick up the first forceps and position it above her nipple.  Her eyes widen slightly as she catches sight of it, but she doesn’t say a word, only accepting the inevitable.  You squeeze the scissor like clamp together, tightly pinching the offending nipple between the two terminals, the wires stretching across her body delightfully.  The second forceps is attached to her other full breast and you smile, glad that Breanne’s bosom is large and full, perfect for this sort of torment.  The third electrical clamp goes directly on Breanne’s clit, eliciting a little gasp from the bound girl.  You leave the extra one on the table, not bothering to plug it in.

The pulse dial is marked from sixty-five to two hundred and fifty.  You turn it to its lowest setting and then adjust the frequency dial.  There is a slight humming and you hear a gasp.  Breanne’s eyes are bulging slightly and her mouth is open in a soundless “ooooh”.  You notice her nipples have hardened between the clamps and small muscle spasms seem to rock through her.  You glance back at the tens unit, checking to make sure you are on the lowest settings for both pulse and intensity and then look back at Breanne.

“Like that?”  you ask with a bit of a grin.  She nods, her eyes closing in what can only be rapture.

“Oh yes sir,” she replies, sighing even as her breasts seems to rise in time with the pulses.  “It’s like someone is repeatedly squeezing my nipples and clit, from the inside, over and over.”

You blink.  That’s a description of the experience that you’ve never heard before.  Well, if Breanne thinks it feels like someone squeezing her most tender nerve bundles, then maybe you should change those little squeezes to smart little pinches.  You change the frequency, and Breanne’s brow furrows slightly as the intensity increases dramatically.  Her breathing changes from satisfied sighs to short little gasps, clearly indicating a more diabolical hand is “pinching her from the inside”.  She looks at you in silence, her eyes clearly begging.

You turn back to the cart and notice a second shelf under the first, packed with more interesting devices.  Surprised at this, you bend down to explore it, and find something else that excites you.  A clear plastic dildo with metal strips along the sides leading up toward the tapered tip rests in a small cellophane bag.  At the base are two terminals, red and black, with wires leading from it.  With a grin you grab the toy and quickly extract the plastic dick.  You realize that it is designed to send the same electrical current flowing through Breanne’s nipples and clit, deep into her pussy. 

She hasn’t seen what you are doing and lets out a small moan when she feels the tip of the plastic dildo touch her open petals.  You haven’t plugged it in yet, wanting to do that after it’s fully embedded inside her.  She is so wet that it is relatively easy to push it in, penetrating deeply into her soft opening.  Her eyelids flutter with passion and her hips push upward, enjoying the sensation of penetration even as she endures the nonstop repeated electrification of her nipples and clit.

You pat her pussy, making sure to stay away from Bre’s electrified clit and then simply plug the dildo wires into the tens unit.  The effect is immediate.  Breanne lets out a gurgling cry as the totally unexpected current flows into her sex.  Her body begins to twitch suddenly as she thrusts her hips upward, trying to fuck the electrons flowing over her wet skin and through her moist hole.

You step back to admire your handiwork and watch Breanne’s tiny convulsions for awhile before going back to the cart and table, looking for something more to torment her with.  The table is a bust.  Almost everything there is designed to be applied or used on her nipples and pussy, and except for a momentary interest in the spiked pinwheel, nothing really motivates you.

You go back to the cart and start going through the second shelf.  After a moment you find a box containing a variety of glass probes, each capped at the end with a metal socket.  A handle with an off and on switch sits next to them, a long extension cord coiled tightly sparks your interest.

You select the long thin glass probe first, setting it into the handle with a slight snick. You plug the cord into the electrical socket on the cart and then turn on the switch.  The glass begins to glow a colorful purple color and you lift your hand to the glass.  A spark leaps across the space between the probe and your finger, causing you to curse and yank your hand away.  In retrospect, the shock wasn’t exactly painful, but it was intense and it has attracted Breanne’s attention.

With a sudden glint of mischievousness, you move down to the bottom of the rack.  She is still wearing her high heels and you quickly unbuckle them, setting the violet wand down upon the wooden table.  When the soles of her feet are exposed, you trace one finger up and down the arch of her foot, causing her toes to curl and a muffled giggle to come from her mouth. 

You start off by tickling her feet, rapid fluttering of your fingers that causes the bound girl to jerk against her bonds.  In seconds she has gone from sexually tormented to screaming helpless gales of laughter, begging and pleading with you to stop.  The rack holds her down perfectly and you continue until she is crying, thrashing in her bonds, her entire body literally jumping on the table like a landed fish.

When it becomes apparent she is having trouble catching her breath you stop.  You aren’t cruel or heartless.  You give her almost a full minute to catch her breath before picking up the violet wand, activating it, and then slowly moving the probe closer to the soft delicate arch of her right foot.  When the spark jumps she cries out with a clear “owww!” and her foot twists in apparent agony.  You do it again, watching as her toes curl, twist, and spread as the rack holds her ankle firm.  You begin alternating between one foot and the other, sending shock after shock into the soles of her feet.

For kicks, you put down the wand and crank up the frequency of the tens unit, changing the electric pinches on her clit and nipples into virtual electric needles, piercing her over and over again.  Her mouth opens and a high pitched wail emerges from her throat.  You can’t help it.  What a perfect opportunity! You grab one of the available ball gags from the side table and stuff it in her mouth.  You buckle it around her head even as she pulls on her bonds, her entire body shaking.

You amuse yourself for a few minutes by pressing the tip of the violet wand to various spots on Breanne’s body.  Her stomach, her underarms, her delicate thighs, the insides of her elbow, even her ear lobes, no where is safe from your random application of energy.  Unlike the constant pulse shocks at her pussy and breasts, your application is too varied and too unexpected to adjust too.  You move back to her feet, enjoying the modern version of the bastinado. 

After ten more minutes you switch off the wand and remove the glass probe, opting for one of the other more interesting probes.  You select a large rake looking attachment, quickly insert it into the handle of the wand, and light it up.  For a second, you wish that the designers had added a few sound effects.  You can’t help feeling like a special sort of Jedi Master, torturing a confession out of a new apprentice of the Sith.  You turn toward Breanne, lower the wand to her hip, and drag the pointed glass rake down her leg.

Sparks jump from each prong and Breanne gasps, her body again jumping.  Pleased with the reaction, you again drag the tool along her limbs, exciting the flesh over and over.  After a few moments Breanne is shouting something into her ball gag, her eyes closed tightly.  You pause for a moment, noticing that the attendant has come over, watching closely.  You look at the small wiry man, wondering if he is about to stop you, but he smiles and nods for you to continue.  Evidently you haven’t even come close to the limits allowed in this dungeon.

Breanne suddenly stiffens, even as you start to apply the rake again and you notice her hips rolling in a repeated coital wave.  You realize she is in the throes of a powerful orgasm.  You frown, put down the violet wand and grab hold of the tens unit, changing both the pulse and frequency to their maximum settings.  Now, instead of on again off again little jolts, there is one steady electrical sensation, as if her clit and nipples were pierced constantly.  Worse, the frequency is now higher and Breanne’s orgasm changes from powerful to earthshaking.  Her back arches and she literally lifts herself up from the rack as she shrieks into the ball gag.

It is the longest orgasm you’ve ever witnessed.  Either that or she is enduring wave after wave.  For a moment you wonder if you’ve managed to hit that perfect point where the stimulation just keeps the orgasms coming, a never ending cycle of stimulation, release, buildup, and explosion.  You like the sound of that, but eventually you decide that she can’t go on like that.  Already her movements have subsided as exhaustion overtakes her.  You turn down the tens unit incrementally, reducing the power and then the timing of the pulses so that she eventually the tens unit is off. 

You release the clamps on her nipples, eliciting only a small whimper as the blood rushes back into her crushed nips.  The foreceps on her clit comes of even easier and she lets out a shuddering sigh as her body begins the recovery process.  Lastly, you extract the dildo from between her legs, depositing it back on the second shelf of the cart.  You don’t worry about cleaning up.  You know the attendant will handle that.  Instead you focus on Breanne. 

For a moment, you contemplate trying out a few of the other probes included in the kit for the violet wand.  A curved hook like probe would be perfect for encircling her tenderized nipples, sending shocks to her delicate nub from all directions.  Or it would be perfect for setting over her clit.  But you’ve already tormented those parts of her and doing so again would be redundant.  There is also the dildo like probe, with a bulbous end, clearly designed to penetrate pink pussy.  But you also know that for violet wands to be effective, the probe must be held away from the skin.  Such a penetration would only produce a warm fuzzy feeling in Breanne.  You had a better reaction from the tens unit.

Regretfully, you put away the violet wand.  Your fingers find their way back to the side table and you pull out a pair of vibro balls, two egg shaped vibrators complete with wires leading to a large remote.  You quickly unwrap them and bring them over to Breanne. 

She is lying limply on the table, too dazed by her powerful orgasm to really react as you begin the process of sliding the two golf ball sized oval shaped objects into her twat.  It isn’t until you crank the setting up on the remote that she lets out another whimper.  You turn it to maximum, letting the small and powerful vibrators do their work while you go back to the side table.

This time you pick up a bottle of grapeseed oil.  A liberal dose into your hand swiftly transfers the slick stuff to Breanne’s breasts.  She moans as you rub the oil in, and then sighs in delight as your hand goes to her clitoris, rubbing the oil through her petals.  You wipe the excess off on her abdomen, enjoying the glistening sheen of her skin.  Then you go back to the side table, pick up the large red candle, and without a moments warning, pour the entire pool of melted paraffin on Breanne’s right breast.

The response is immediate.  She screams.  You smile, glad that you were smart enough to gag her.  Red wax spills and coats her tit, leaving a small hard bump in the center as it flows down her side and toward her cleavage.  Her chest heaves, but that doesn’t stop you from putting the first candle down and grabbing hold of the second.  In moments her other breast sports the same sort of coating, turning Breanne’s bosom into a red coated heat encased wax statue.  Her squeals of heat induced agony begin to fade as the wax cools and you put the second candle back.  You pick up the third and last candle and hold it up where Breanne can see it.

“You know where this is going, don’t you?” you ask.  Her eyes widen and she tries to say something but the gag prevents her.  She begins to shake her head back and forth and you reach up, grabbing her chin.

“Don’t tell me no.  You are a nympho humiliation pain slut and I can do this to you as much as I want, can’t I?” you demand.  A spark of fear flashes across her face but then her eyes soften and she nods.

“Are you a pain slut?” you ask, your voice still harsh.  She nods again, her eyes filling with tears.

“Do you deserve this?”  Another nod.

“Do you want me to pour this hot wax all over your pussy?”  She hesitates for only a moment, but then she nods.

You don’t bother to wait.  The candle tips and the stream of heated paraffin falls, splashing down directly on to her clitoris.  Her back arches and she lets out a gag piercing cry that fills the dungeon.   Wax splashes, droplets cooling on her thighs even as long streams flow down to coat her labia.  In seconds her entire pussy disappears under a red curtain of hot paraffin and her bottom rises off the table.  Melted wax pools underneath her as the heat cooks her pussy, still stirred from the inside by the powerful vibro balls buzzing in her well.

It takes her several minutes to recover, and you suspect that she has experienced another orgasm in the wake of her waxing.  Frequently you test the wax with a finger, waiting for it to cool.  When you finally see it cracking, you grab hold of a multi-headed whip and swing it sharply against her breasts.

Wax chips fly off in all directions, but Breanne could care less.  The burning of the wax is now replaced by the sting of your blows and she thrashes once more in the grip of torment.  Her tits are scarlet, red from the heat and earlier punishments, but now they take on an even darker shade of crimson.  In some spots it is difficult to determine if she is covered in wax, or her bare skin is just that abused.  Her breasts, finally whipped mostly clean of the wax, still glisten with the grapeseed oil and you turn your whip to her pussy. 

It takes fewer strokes to crack her genital mold and her cries of anguish peppered by her sinful coital thrusts arouse you.  Your rock hard cock needs relief and you work quickly through the process, flicking the wax away from her pussy.  When she is relatively clean, but sobbing in a combination of frustration and hurt, you release her from her bonds, unlocking the ankle and wrist cuffs and helping her to her feet.  Your eyes look off toward the vault and the barrel as you decide which of those two device would be satisfy your needs.

The barrel seems to be a perfect option.  Take her to the barrel and throw her backwards over it.  Then you can plunge yourself into her hot depths and release some of YOUR pent up tensions. (16a)

You decide that the Vault is the perfect option.  You can lay her over it, face down, and give her the spanking she so richly deserves.  Then she already is in the position for a decent fucking. (16b)