3
Sally was having second thoughts.
She had been for a long time-even before she felt the padded hand being clasped
over her mouth and breathed in the soporific fumes. Her last thoughts before
falling unconscious into the awaiting arms was to wonder if this nauseating
smell was chloroform; and then to hope that this was really Darin and not
someone else.
She still wasn't completely sure-that was part of the thrill. These men might be
total stranger, with an agenda all their own. The intensity of her fear made it
all the more exciting. Certainly, there were more men than she'd expected, and
she hadn't been able to recognized Darin or Mark's voices, either. But then the
men hadn't spoken more than a few words. They obviously knew what they were
planning to do, and the few gestures they used were enough.
One thing was absolutely certain, beyond all others: she had passed the point of
no return a long time ago. It didn't matter who it was, it was too late now to
make them stop. Even if the ball gag hadn't been there to prevent her from
calling it off, she didn't think they would believe her. She was supposed to be
the frightened victim. No, it was far too late to change her mind now. The
inevitability of it overwhelmed her, her entire body vibrating with the thrill
of it, as if she'd downed a few too many cups of strong coffee.
Darin had already taken her a lot further during this session than he had during
any of the others. That was exactly what she had asked for, although she hadn't
specified any specific tortures. She preferred to leave that to his discretion,
for it would make it harder to determine if it was really him. And she knew that
he could come up with tortures that she wouldn't have dared suggest on her own.
But now, her crotch seemed to be on fire as she straddled this horse. She
wouldn't have believed that her own body could feel like such a crushing weight.
It tingled with a feeling of numbness that did little to quiet the pain. She was
long past the point when she'd begun to think she simply could not stand it any
longer. But the session seemed to go on and on. Her body felt battered, both
inside and out. It ached with fatigue and stung where the whips had raised
welts. Muscles she didn't even know she had felt strained, especially the ones
in her pussy that cramped when they'd used the electric currents. And yet, the
fact that she was helpless to prevent whatever they were going to do next was
enough to make her giddy with erotic delight. Her stomach was anxiously
fluttering with nervous butterflies as she breathed heavily around her gag and
waited.
They were lowering the horse again. She had been riding it, on and off, for such
a long time that removing the pressure from between her legs was almost better
than an orgasm: like sitting down after a long day of endless walking and
letting someone massage your feet. It felt good to have the floor beneath her
again.
When they began to untie her hands, she breathed a mental sigh. It meant they
wouldn't be using the horse to hoist her off the floor again. She stepped over
it almost eagerly when one of the men pulled on her nipple chains. She wondered
what they were going to do to her next. Her only stipulation had been that they
couldn't do anything that would cause permanent damage, and nothing that would
be visible when she was wearing normal street clothes.
Darin's expression had been almost comical when she'd told him she was the
intended target of the snuff film she wanted him to make. "I can't do that," he
shouted, becoming so agitated about it that it had taken her a very long time
indeed to make him understand that she didn't actually want to die. She wanted
him to revive her once she was unconscious. "That means you can't kill me in a
violent method."
"What's not violent about dying?"
"Well, I don't actually have to die, I suppose." She put her hand up to her
throat and firmly gripped her own windpipe, wheezing excessively as she sucked
in her next breath of air. Then she smiled. "I just want it to look like I have.
I want the realism of actually loosing consciousness and lying there for a few
seconds. We can make it look longer when we edit. I want this to be a fairly
high-quality production."
"And what if you don't wake up when we try to revive you?"
"Then you don't get the money," she said with a smile. "Just a snuff-film for
real. That ought to be worth a few thousand on the black market..."
Sally turned to the sound of something scraping across the concrete floor and
saw one of the men pulling something heavy into the light. When she got a good
look at the narrow table he was dragging, she pulled back, causing the chain the
man was holding to tug at her nipple clamps. The table's top surface would come
to about her hips and its surface was covered with short, little needles. They
were no more than a quarter-inch long, but they were plentiful and looked sharp
enough to break her skin. She knew what they wanted from her, and she knew that
eventually they would get it, but she fought as hard as she could.
It took two of the men to force her face down over the table. She tugged at the
ropes that still pinned her elbows to her side, trying to get her hands into a
position to hold her self back. But they batted her hands away easily and forced
her down.
The sharp points pricked at the skin of her belly and breasts, and she tried to
keep as still as possible. Struggling now would only rip at her skin. She felt
the weight of one of the men as he pressed himself down on top of her; forcing
her all the way down on the spiked bed.
It didn't hurt as much as she'd expected. Her skin began to itch, like a hundred
mosquito bites rather than the stab of a half-dozen swords. She could feel
something trickling from at least one of the wounds. Was it blood? Her creme
sweater was already ruined. It would have been even if they hadn't cut holes for
her breasts, but soon it would be soaked with blood as well as sweat.
It no longer took two men to hold her down. One was enough, his hands gripping
her head and the back of her neck, as he pressed her erection closer to her
mouth. She hadn't noticed when he'd taken it out, but now she could smell it:
musty and hot. It pulsed in front of her eyes. Mesmerizing her, like a snake.
Was he going to undo her gag?
She felt a strap being pulled tightly across the small of her back and tightened
down with a buckle at the side of the table. Another strap was pulled across her
shoulder blades. Then she felt hands spreading her legs, tying them to the metal
rings on either side of the table.
The man in front of her was covering his erection with a large, ribbed dildo
harness. It was hollow in the middle, allowing him to slide his length inside;
giving him another half-inch in diameter and a good two extra inches in length,
once he'd strapped it into place.
Only when he began to walk around behind her, did she realize that it wasn't for
her mouth. He had shown it to her so she would know exactly what he was going to
do.
He gripped the cheeks of her ass, forcing them apart. She felt something cool
and greasy, as fingers probed her sphincter. Then the rubber shaft was pressing
against her ass. Involuntarily, her muscles tightened. The shaft pressed harder
and she could feel her hole slowly opening up, stretching well beyond its
design's parameters. And then he was sliding more freely; forcing himself the
rest of the way with one quick, deep thrust. She screamed into her gag, as her
body shook with delightfully intense pain. The shock of his body collided with
hers, caused her to move against the needles. They seemed to rip at her skin,
but she was tightly strapped to the table. There couldn't be much real movement.
The needles began to tear again as he pulled out of her.
Then he was shoving back inside her again. In-out, in-out. He found a steady
rhythm, using his hands against her hips to help force his way in and out. In
and out.
At first there was only the pain, and she reveled in it; but slowly it began to
mix with a deeper pleasure. She began to breathe a little harder and before long
she was moving her hips to meet each new thrust. Her body was dripping with
sweat. As if they could tell just where the pleasure was coming from, someone
had slipped a finger between her legs and was working her there at the same
time.
It seemed to go on and on, and she didn't even notice the belt as it was slipped
around her neck.
Not until she felt the gentle pressure slowly beginning to block off her air. It
didn't take much, just a gentle twist of the wrist to make her breath come in
labored little wheezes. Another thrust seemed to force the air out of her, and
she couldn't force her lung to fill again. Her head seemed to growing lighter. A
vibrating sensation filled her chest, quickly becoming more erotic as it
intensified; swelling, its center moving down in her body until it was centered
at the focus of her pain and pleasure. Fingers tugged at her clit. The ribbed
dildo was an avalanche washing over her in waves.
Her body went rigid. An incredible new level of pleasure filled her so
completely; so profoundly. All she could see was white. All she could hear was
an ecstatic buzzing: like bugs in her ears. She wished these wonderful feelings
could go on forever.
Then the world began to fade to black.
