Friday, July 22, 2016

Fiction: fs01 - Part 43


Author’s note: This takes place following part 42.

I will apologize in advance if this chapter doesn’t flow very well.  It took me upwards of 20 sittings to complete it.  I will try to clean up any oddities with a future edit.

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XLIII

“It’s finally my turn, little one.  This set up really brings back memories.”

I feel the hairs on my neck stand on end.  She glides her hands over my buttocks.  Even with the moments we’ve shared she still terrifies me.

“I still haven’t forgotten, you know… I wasn’t able to break you.  What do you think that does to a woman like me?”

I feel her cup my balls in her hand.  My eyes widen and my breathing gets heavy.  She gives them a gentle squeeze and I moan.

“Are you still in there, fur?” She surprises me; Dominique has never called me fur before.
“Yes, Miss Dominique.”
“How much of you is left?” 
“Not enough, Miss Dominique.” 

I begin to cry.  She places her hand on my back. 

“Do you want to leave?”  I nod as the tears flow.
“What are you willing to go through?”
“Anything, Miss Dominique.”
“Are you absolutely, positively sure that you know what that means?”
“Yes, Miss Dominique.” 
“I was hoping you’d say that, little one.”

I swallow, grasping her intentions.  I shut my eyes tight, fearing I may regret this.  I just gave her my consent to break me.  She slaps away my balls and lets out a cackle.  I wince and grunt.  I hear her pacing back and forth, her voice booms laughter that fills the room. 

She doesn’t even change the image on the wall.  Her part in the experiment is over.  I feel the metal clip bite into the skin on my cock.  I shriek as it digs into the skin.

“Yes!  That’s the sound.” 

Dominique’s laughs continue.  Another clip, this one on my scrotum.  I wail and thrash as it closes and the pain dominates my mind.  A clip bites my inner thigh.  My screams continue as I struggle in vain.  Another clip on the other thigh.  A clip at base of my penis.  I howl in agony while she increases the pace.  A clip bites into my cock just below the head followed by another on my scrotum.  My body spasms, unable to focus on anything but the pain. 

The number of clips continues to mount.  The skin on my crotch, the flesh below my buttocks, various points on the thighs, Dominique lines the clips up and continues adding more.  I can barely keep the breath in me.  My throat is hoarse and raw but I can’t stop my panged cries. 

“Yes, little one, you have me so wet.”

She smears her fingers on my mask under my nose.  Her scent sends panic through my limbs.  My body remembers.  The clips continue finding her favorite spots… the places that bring pain.  The clips surround my nipples, biting the skin through my uniform.  She saves the nipple tips for last.  The clip closes on the first nipple.  I throw my head back and a primal cry leaves my mouth.  I have no reason left in my brain, just please make it stop.  The other nipple leaves my entire body thrashing and twitching. 

Dominique laughs and wipes a fresh smudge of juice under my nose. 
“Little one, your screams are glorious.”

I grow weak as I fight to stay conscious.  Her laughs change to moans as I hear the sound of rubbing and friction. 

“Just one more, little one.  Stick out your tongue.”

I obey without a second thought as I flail helpless and in agony.  The metal bites into my tongue giving it a painful throb as it digs in.

“How silly of me, this was supposed to happen first.”

I feel the cold hard plastic part my ass cheeks.  I shut my eyes and emit a squealed scream that barely resembles human.  The clip on my tongue blocks me from forming words.  I’m still sore from their gang rape.  I feel her violate me.  She cackles and shoves it deep inside.  I feel it twist and it begins to vibrate; it hurts. 

My mind blanks as pain ripples through my body.  The agonizing throbs, the stings of the clips, all I know is suffering.  My body drips with sweat as my sounds are reduced to animalistic groans and whimpers.  I feel my joints weaken and a teeter and shake before slumping limp in the wooden frame.

“Oh little one, did you think I would let you escape that easily?”  She laughs and refreshes her scent on my mask. 

Smack smack.  The strap lands in quick succession stinging each butt cheek.  I cry out and recoil under the blows.  Smack smack.  I wail and shriek, flailing in my restrained state. 

“Tsk tsk tsk, little one.  How ever do you expect to last… 37 more minutes if this little warm-up makes you cry?  I do love that you so willingly sing my favorite soundtrack, you know how it puts me in the mood.”

She lays down a continuous rain of blows across my body with the strap.  Conscious thought leaves my mind, while a flow of pain takes its place.  I merely exist and suffer.  Smack smack. Smack smack.  Her laughs fill the room above my cries; she pauses only to refresh her scent on my face. 

I lose all sense of time.  Eventually my cries cease and my body hangs limp.  My breathing slows.  I feel the light slip away. 

My eyes jolt open.  Disorientation briefly outweighs the throbbing pain.  The burn of the smelling salts in my nose briefly overwhelms the scent of Dominique’s sex.  I clench my teeth as the stings and throbbing of my entire body pulses through my nerves and overwhelms my brain.  The vibrator is gone but the clips remain in place.

Mistress stands in front of me.  She reaches out and removes the clip from my tongue. 

“I don’t remember anyone giving you permission to sleep, inmate.”

She drags her glove across my cheek.  I raise my head and glance up, hoping to see a sign of life… a sign of warmth.  My bloodshot eyes reflect back at me from the lenses of her goggles.  A slap to my cheek crushes all hope.

“I honestly think this conditioning process is a waste of time on an inmate such as yourself.  I can see that lust in your eyes.  It’s disgusting.  I’ll bet you get an erection doing the dishes.  That’s the sign of a nasty, submissive slut.”

I shut my eyes as her words poke and prod my heart.  I somehow manage to ‘quiet’ the pain of the clips a little bit.

“I really do think I’ll skip the slide show and take a page from Dominique’s book.  I learned last night just how wet it makes me to hear you scream, plead, and beg.  I don’t think Dom would forgive me if I beat you until you were broken before her next go at you.  I’ll bet you didn’t know that with a little knowledge of pressure points, nerve centers, and trigger points, it’s rather simple to deliver excruciating amounts of pain without causing serious physical damage.  With the amount of physical labor you have performed over the past few days, I’m guessing your body will give me everything I need.”

My body tenses a bit in fear.  This is something entirely new to me… a secret she has kept hidden.  She caresses my cheek with her hand and I rub my face against its touch.  Her mask hides her expression.  From the corner of my eye I watch as her other hand retrieves the baton from her belt.  I shut my eyes tight and brace my body.  She glides her palm along my torso, gently massaging the muscles in small circles. 

Mistress stops and lets out a small laugh.  I feel the baton dig into my side just below my armpit.  The pressure isn’t much but the nerves ignite into blinding pain.  I shriek and shift my body against the stocks in a futile attempt to lessen the pain.  She presses harder and moves it from side to side.  I scream and wail as tears fill my eyes and sweat forms on my skin.  I feel my muscles waver and my body sways under its own weight.  She continues the pressure and abruptly stops. 

My breathing heaves as I whimper quietly.  The sound of her rubbing, the friction of the leather, she moans softly, taking pleasure in my agony. 

“I think I could do this all day, inmate.  The pain is rather exquisite, isn’t it?  The body has dozens of points that hurt just as much.  If you’re lucky I can teach you all of them.”

She laughs again as she continues to pleasure herself.  My tears flow; I don’t even recognize this woman.  I sniffle as she moves around to the other side of the pillory.  She slides her palm around, repeating the earlier process.  The baton digs in.  My brain spikes, completely consumed with pain.  I wail and shake as she moves the pressure around; I feel like I’m going to die.  She releases the pressure and my body slumps within the wooden frame, a low groan emanates from my lungs.  My throat is raw and hoarse and I slowly regain my bearings.

“I don’t know how you expect to last another 40 minutes, inmate.  Obviously we haven’t toughened you up enough yet.  Remember that this is for your own benefit.”

Her laugh that follows is wicked… demonic… terrifying.

“I’ll make you a deal, inmate.  If your delicious screams can make me cum before the time is up, I’ll let you rest.” 

My brain surrenders without resistance.  I am alone… isolated… helpless.  I lose all concept of time.  Mistress continues to alternate sides; the agonizing pain keeps off-balance and me desperate.  Eventually a miracle happens.  I feel the muscles beneath the baton spasm and release.  She continues to dig around but my body slowly ceases to react and my screams curtail. 

Mistress works the other side and eventually ends with the same result.  I’m too exhausted to scream, my body reduces itself to twitches and animalistic groans.  She moves her work to my inner thigh.  I can’t even open my eyes.  By the end I slump completely limp while drool dribbles off my chin.  I want to go away.

They dump me back in my cell with my hands cuffed behind me.  I lean against the sidewall, my body motionless, my thoughts are empty.  Lunch comes and goes; I do not move nor eat.  They drag me to my feet for headcount.  I feel empty… like there is nothing left in me. 

The afternoon session follows and the cycle repeats itself.  Lauren and Tabitha continue with their image conditioning; Dominique and Mistress continue to inflict pain.  My reactions dull with each session.  I do not eat at dinner; my stomach growls but my spirit lacks the will to move. 

They transport me to the interview room after the evening headcount.  I sit on the stool, blinded by the lights and stare into the camera lens; my eyes fixate on the blinking red light. 

“Inmate 001, how do you feel?”

I sit in silence, burying the emotions deep within me.  I do not allow myself to feel anything.

“Inmate, answer the question or you’ll be punished.”

I clench my fists.  I feel my chest heave as my body throbs in reaction to today’s sessions.   I force myself to feel nothing.

“Inmate, you have five seconds to answer.” 

I shut my eyes and press my palms to my head.  My body rocks back and forth.  I hear the batons slide from their leather holsters.  I hear them tapping against the leather of their gloves.  My chest tightens and I feel my insides welling up. 

“Tune him up.”

I hear their footsteps on the floor.  I clench my hands into fists against my head.  My face contorts as the dam in my heart breaks, spilling forth the emotions I battled to keep at bay.  Tears fill my eyes and I scream.

My words spill out frantically.  Panic, fear, and pain fly forth.

“Mistress, where are you?  Mistress, your pet is here.  Your pet is here waiting for you.  Mistress, please come and take your pet away.”

I shriek and sob without restraint.  My hands pound against my head.  I feel broken.

“Mistress, your pet is lost.  Take your pet away.  Please, Mistress, your pet loves you.  Where are you?”

The footsteps stop in their tracks.  Her voice booms above me.

“This experiment is over.”

I feel her arms close around me.  She pulls my head against her chest and pets it gently with her palm.  I sob and take in her familiar scent.  I hear the mask hit the floor and I open my eyes.  She looks down at me, our eyes meet; a warm smile.  Her eyes twinkle with moisture.  She’s beautiful. 

“I’m here, pet.  You’re okay.  Let’s go home.  I’m so proud of you.”
“Your pet loves you, Mistress.  Your pet loves you so much.”
“I love you, too, pet.”

END ACT

8 comments:

  1. Looks like you went out of this arc with a bang, fur. I suspect it's also with a sigh of relief that it's over. The sudden stoppage of the experiment by Cassandra is a bit confusing. Then again, Cassandra herself is a bit confusing. Why did that specific plea from fiction fur cause her to end the experiment?

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    1. Thank you, Lady Grey. I still have another wind down chapter or two left in the arc but the conflict has found resolution.

      I plan to flush it out a bit more in 44-45, but he had reached his absolute breaking point. I tried to write it like a panic attack type breakdown but I may not have done that adequately. Basically it was at the threshold between "hurt" and "damaged".

      Does that seem reasonable?

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    2. It's reasonable as a fantasy, I suppose, but the feelingless cruelty that Cass had already displayed during this "experiment" doesn't quite explain why she suddenly found her heart once again, at least not for me. Wanting someone you love to totally break down emotionally and physically before you "save" him is just not my style, I guess, and hopefully this will never happen to you. Let it remain a fantasy.

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    3. Thank you, Lady Grey. Your inpur has been invaluable on the "harsh" chapters and has helped to increase my understanding of sadism by quite a bit. I plan to write another blog entry on this topic as well.

      I also hope this would never happen to me, although it scares me to admit I might be willing to allow it.

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  2. I dont see love here anymore. At best its just one sided. That is just raw brutal. I hope that karma meets these women soon.

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    1. Thank you t22. I stopped feeling the love as well, which is a major part of why this Arc was such a struggle to get through. I do plan to try and wrap it up neatly here soon, but I do not wish to go down an avenue this dark in the future.

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  3. It was nice to see the mention of torture methods which can inflict great pain without causing great damage. I do think it was an interesting choice that Mistress and Dom broke fs01. It was certainly painting a dark picture when you ended this chapter. I can almost hear his hoarse voice pleading and begging for his Mistress to "return". I am glad to see this experiment over.

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    1. Thank you, Miss Lily.

      Having undergone deep tissue trigger point therapy, it actually hurts worse than any kind of play I have ever encountered.

      I am glad you could picture his voice... I had one in mind while I was writing it (oddly enough it was inspired by a scene in a movie).

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