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Pussy Whipped Wimp - Chapter 12
The first few sessions were absolutely terrifying since I had no experience in dealing with such a situation as having my belly bloated and no way to relieve myself as my bladder filled to its limit. Naturally Roxy continued to make suggestions as to ways to improve the torment I was enduring. The idea of the cat was bad, very bad, and she'd sneak the animal into my room anytime that she knew her mother was out of the house. If it were not for Lil, I doubt if I'd have survived a week under Roxy's control. I found myself gravitating more and more to my mother-in-law for my safety and security, such as it was. Lil was a stickler for following instructions, but that only meant I would stay alive, perhaps in a great deal of discomfort, but alive.
The first time I was allowed to urinate, it took a few very scary minutes for me to be able to start the flow so the contents of my bulging bladder could be eliminated into the large bedpan. However by the end of the first day I was able to void much easier, and this did a great deal to increase my confidence that I'd be able to survive this particular discipline. After the second day Roxy came up with another of her bright ideas. Rather than have me hold the funnel with my teeth and risk spilling the contents, she suggested, no demanded, that a piece of rubber tubing be forced down my throat and into my stomach, thus eliminating any concern about losing any of the water or urine that I would be forced to swallow.
Lil finally got tired of Roxy whining that she wasn't getting a fair shake when it came to her ideas, and she relented. It turned out to be a frightening time for me and effectively eliminated any influence that Roxy had over what happened to my regimen. Getting me to swallow the fat tubing was an extremely painful process since they hadn't bothered to lubricate it. It felt as if I had a terrible sore throat by the time they were finished pushing it into my belly.
Again and again Roxy had jammed the tubing into my throat, but she didn't take into consideration that there was some curvature to my gullet. The more she got frustrated, the harder the blows to my throat until Lil finally realized what the problem was and managed to thread the tube down into my belly. Things got much worse when they began transferring the urine into my belly. By now they had collected enough so that I was processing urine nearly all the time. Later this would prove to be a deadly mistake on the part of the woman who had prescribed this treatment, but that at present was not the issue.
The tubing expanded slightly as the urine flowed through it. Although only a small increase in girth, it was enough to make a huge difference in my ability to get air into my lungs. Unable to speak, I began to slowly suffocate as the urine poured into my stomach. It took plenty of time for the two quarts of golden, salty fluid to make its way into my ever expanding stomach. By then my face had turned a pale blue and my eyes felt as if they were about to pop from their sockets. The room started to grow dark and I was certain that this was it, I was going to die with a belly full of urine and my two antagonists hovering over me, totally oblivious to my dilemma. Just before I passed out I had this overwhelming urge to vomit, which may have saved my life.
The salty, acrid liquid caused my stomach to go into mild convulsions and this resulted in my vomiting. The amount and force was such that the tubing was dislodged sufficiently to allow me to gain some air, which was my salvation. Lil was furious over this accident, but it gave Roxy an opportunity to torment me still further under the guise of discipling me for this terrible "breach of manners". She must have been planning this for some time.
She got a good grip on the stud blocking me from urinating, and yanked it almost completely out, sending a burst of pain that was a cross between fire and being flayed. I screamed so hard that I saw stars and managed to nearly swallow the panties that gagged me. Then my pudgy bride, the monster, rammed it back inside, creating some new pain to overlay the original agony I was still experiencing. Then she repeated this terrible torment all over and I nearly went insane from the pain. I was straining so hard against my bonds that the pallet creaked. Lil ordered her daughter to stop hurting me or she'd have to inform the woman of her behavior. That sobered my new wife up very quickly, for she knew her mother was not making an idle threat.
The days dragged by with little change except for my feeding every third day. They outdid themselves in coming up with nauseating combinations that left me with terrible tastes in my mouth and upset my shrinking stomach for as long as a day afterward. My first feeding consisted of heavily salted, cold oatmeal with chunks of rancid, raw, fatty pork added. Lil spoon fed me and Roxy thought it was outrageously funny the grimaces I made as I tried to swallow the mess quickly without even chewing. It was Roxy who came up with dessert and she made sure I chewed every piece she gave me. The first time I ate half a cake of perfumed soap. Afterward I had a steady diet of old fashioned laundry soap maufactured using a high concentration of lye. It was so pungent that I often vomited up my "meal' while having dessert.
Roxy also developed some other nasty characteristics, that with time ate at me. She had initially worked out a deal with Lil that gave her freedom to torture my already damaged penis. This terrified me to discover that Lil had given in on this matter. Actually I would like to believe that she was just trying to give her daughter enough rope to hang herself. Whatever the reason, I was now at Roxy's mercy, and she took full advantage of the situation. She started off with binder clamps that bit like fury, but left little evidence behind an hour or so after being removed. I always knew when I was going to be tortured for she'd come in with a pair of urine soaked panties and stuff them into my mouth. I knew better than to struggle. The first time I did, she pinched my nostrils shut and then stuffed them into my mouth. Then she pinched my nostrils shut again and held them that way until I passed out. It was an agonizing and extremely stressful time for me, and one I did not wish to relive.
Another one of her favorites was to rub cayenne, a pungent fiery pepper, into the head of my penis. Then she'd sit there and watch the tears flow and my body thrash against the bonds holding me down. Worse still she discovered that the backyard of the house had a stand of nettles, and she harvested them almost daily to rub over my groin, onto my limp penis and especially my scrotum. I was driven to near madness by the stinging agony those tiny hollow needles could create in my skin. There were patches of blisters all over my body after about a week.
The nurse paid us a surprise visit and I thought for sure that I'd be saved from the fiendish treatments Roxy was giving me. Just my luck, the nurse was a sadist and enjoyed seeing the results of Roxy's handiwork, since none of it was permanent, and I was a long way from reaching the point that an autopsy was imminent. She even suggested that Roxy use the nettles to torture my anus, and for the next week I was sure I'd entered hell itself as my anal region turned into one gigantic throbbing lump of flesh and I was unable to move my bowels due to the blockage the swelling created.
Pamela the nurse was a sharp faced woman in her late forties with big breasts that seemed to be out of place on her slim, almost skinny body. She had been working for the organization for three years or so and enjoyed the work and the money they paid her. She bragged that she had nursed eleven patients to a better life beyond this world and never had been challenged by the authorities. Currently she was assisting on three cases besides mine. Two were men and the other a woman in her early sixties who had two sons in need of her house and life savings, which was estimated to be nearly three million dollars. She was now in the critical phase of her treatment and required the nurse's attention almost every day.
For the last few months they been trying to induce heart failure, but to date she had proven quite resistant to their efforts. For reasons they could not understand, using electricity to cause her heart to go into ventricular fibrillation had proven unsuccessful. Her heart seemed to have a knack of restarting itself so matter how many times they used the paddles to momentarily stop it. Since they had also been feeding her a diet rich in fats and salts to aid in damaging her heart, the head of the "relocation" team decreed a change in direction, and now they were attempting to bring on kidney failure, another malady very difficult to evaluate under even the best of circumstances.
Every other day they pumped gallons of heavily salted water through her body that were loaded with powerful diuretics, forcing her kidneys to operate continuously at an extreme level of activity. On alternate days they flushed her system with chemicals that leeched out the salt from her body and prepared her for another loading of salted water and diuretics the following day. All the while they were monitoring her blood pressure which rose steadily into the danger zone.
Just to increase her chances of checking out, every night they poured cold water over her naked body and used a pair of powerful floor fans to evaporate the evidence by morning. Usually her body temperature would have dropped by at least ten degrees by then. They used a strait jacket to restrain her and padded cuffs to keep her legs chained to the bed, this leaving no signs that she was being held against her will.
As soon as she was checked over, they forced her to walk from the room in which they held her and the bathroom where she was given a lengthy cold shower and then put back into bed without being dried off. For hours she would shiver uncontrollably, but still she refused to roll over and die. This was frustrating everyone on the project according to the nurse. Roxy went out of her way to assure the nurse that my life expectancy was much less than that of the woman who would not die. Then the two of them would discuss techniques for doing me in faster without leaving any trace behind of foul play. I began to dread the arrival of this angel of death disguised as a human being.
( To be continued - rolf palsy )
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