Chapter 6
"... so then I got on top and started fucking myself. I sort of liked doing that because I could keep his cock moving at just the right speed in me, you know?" Joanne said to Mary Beth.
The other girl nodded, her eyes burning bright. She liked hearing the description of Joanne's fucking with Jeff.
"I could see him stretched out in front of me so young and I thought, 'Christ, I was his age not long ago and was still a virgin.' I guess I did him a big favor. He got introduced to sex the right way. No real fumbling around. Just straight fucking."
"Sure, there wasn't any clumsiness, Joanne, but that's half the fun. It was for me, at any rate. I can remember when I got my cherry popped. It was at a fuckin' drive-in, yet! God, you can't believe the contortions we went through before he could even get it in!"
"I can," Joanne laughed. "I've been there, too. They don't call 'em passion pits for nothing. I wonder how many chicks have lost their cherries at drive-ins?"
"Here's one. And I'll bet a bunch of others, too. A real shame. Usually it's better watching the crummy movie than breaking your back trying to screw properly. Give me a nice, soft bed any day."
"Right on. A nice, soft bed and a guy with a long, hard cock!" Joanne added.
The conversation died for a moment as they went on with their letter writing. Joanne hadn't seen any more letters that interested her. Ever since her lovemaking with Jeff, she'd been feeling a little guilty. It didn't seem right taking advantage of the guys who wrote in to "Pen Friends".
Yet, she couldn't imagine Jeff complaining about her little visit. It had done both of them a world of good.
She had desperately needed a man's cock in her again. She'd gotten it when she was most needy. The boy had lost his virginity and gained a view of a whole new world of sexuality.
Joanne wondered how far she could push this. The letters were occasionally intriguing and she was curious about some of the things she read. Would the guys actually do these things they wrote about? Or were they just using the anonymous letters to blow off a little steam?
Mary Beth whistled and said to Joanne, "Hey, take a gander at this one. A real hot one. Better handle it with asbestos mittens."
Joanne took the letter and quickly scanned down it. She repeated her friend's low whistle. It was a hot one!
It read:
When you come to my basement, I'll show you the ropes and chains. They aren't just ornamental. I use them. Ill use them on you! I'll tie you up and then beat you with the leather whips.
You'll feel the pain. It'll course through your soft, tender body until you begin to suffer. Then I'll ram my huge prick into your dribbly cunt. The contrast will make you come I'll continue to fuck and whip you. You'll come again and again.
I won't give you the precious gift of my seed. You must beg me for rU Not until I'm satisfied you have felt enough pain from my beating and enough pleasure from my cock will I come!
This is only a part of what I am capable of doing to you. You will be totally subservient to me. You will be my slave obeying my every wish. Only after you're trained, degraded, humiliated will I even touch you again.
"This guy sure comes on strong," said Joanne. "How much of it do you think he means?"
"Hard to tell. You want to answer that one? I've got a couple here I'm just dying to give a proper answer to." Mary Beth wickedly rubbed her hands together and studied tht pile of paper in front of her.
"Sure. I'll give it a go and see if I can keep him cheerful. Or maybe keep him in stitches. Hard to say with him." Joanne felt a strange tremor pass through her that was new and totally unlike anything she'd ever felt before.
The man's words got to her in some very basic level she didn't fully understand.
To be tied up and fucked. To be helpless and at a man's complete command. What would it be like?
She didn't know. She'd never tried it.
The feelings assaulting her body told her she'd find out soon. The address on the letter was quickly filed away in her head for future reference.
f t. t
The weekend seemed the best time to see if the man who'd written that letter was at home. She was unsure of herself again. Like a kid-like Jeff, she thought-she was as nervous as if she were getting laid for the very first time.
She didn't know how to approach the people who wrote those letters. Coming on too bold might not work. And this guy she definitely wanted to meet.
The thought of being tied up was kind of spooky for her. At the same time, it sent tremors of unsuppressed delight coursing through her. The very idea appealed to her. She didn't want to scare the guy off if he was on the level and did have all those gadgets he bragged about in his letter.
She rang the doorbell and waited. Finally, a small, nondescript man answered.
"Yes? Do I know you, young lady?"
"Uh, no, not really. I'm with 'Pen Friends' and we occasionally send out some of our letter writers for a closer check on our clients. Field research, you might call it."
He looked at her skeptically as she hurried on with her carefully prepared speech. Finally, she was babbling. "... so I read that about getting tied up and it sounded great. I mean, I thought maybe you and I could do it and ...."
"Come in." His tone had taken on a steely edge. He had been polite before. Now he was dominant. She almost snapped to attention before entering the house.
"Of course, I have all those 'gadgets' as you call them. They are my implements. I doubt if I'd wish to sully them with your thin blood, however. Come to the basement."
She meekly obeyed. There was something in the way he spoke that told her he might, indeed, have everything he had mentioned in his letters. In fact, there might be more, lots more.
His entire basement was outfitted in a manner the Grand Inquisitor of the Spanish Inquisition would have loved. Chains dangled from the beams with wrist manacles attached. Any number of devices showed her she might be pulled apart, strung up spread-eagle and left at this man's mercy.
She knew without asking that he had no mercy to give her. It simply wasn't his nature.
"This is all well and good but do you use those ropes and things?" she prodded. She couldn't come out and simply ask him to use them on her. She had to force him into doing his thing and using her as the object of his little playacting.
He never bothered to answer. Surprisingly strong hands grabbed her wrists. She was dragged to a straight-backed wooden chair and casually tossed into it. She began to protest and was rewarded with an open-handed slap across her mouth.
"Speak only when spoken to," he snapped.
"But
She was given another hard slap, this time backhanded. She gripped the bruised flesh of her mouth. One lip had split open and a tiny trickle of blood oozed out. Whatever she'd gotten herself into, it wasn't playacting. This man was for real.
He turned and grabbed a handful of clothesline rope cut into convenient lengths. Approaching her, he said, "Remove your clothes, slave. Remove them or I'll rip them off. Fifteen seconds!"
"Fifteen seconds!" she cried in surprise. "I can't____"
That was as far as she got before the bundle of ropes whistled through the air and landed resoundingly on her shoulder. Even through her sweatshirt, she could feel the sting. She hadn't thought it possible for the cotton ropes to hurt as badly as they did.
This man was a master with whip and rope. She was learning the slow, painful way.
"Time's up!" he said. Powerful hands grabbed at the neck of her sweatshirt and jerked. At first, nothing happened. He pulled a second time. The third jerk tore the fabric and left her naked to the waist.
She stood and tried to run. Somehow, he anticipated her every move. No matter where she ran, where she turned, he was there waiting for her. Now every time the ropes landed on her bare back, intense pain rocketed into her brain.
Sobbing, she dropped to her knees and begged, "Stop, please, no more! I'll do whatever you want!"
"Of course, you will. You're my slave and slave's obey their masters. What a slut you are! Strip those filthy pants off immediately! They offend me and nothing that offends me will be tolerated in this room!"
She quickly removed her jeans. The panties were torn off by his strong fingers sliding under the waistband and then pulling hard. A red welt appeared around her waist. The fabric was fragile but still strong enough to resist the forces applied to it.
Naked, she crouched on the cold stone floor, waiting. She didn't have the slightest idea what he would do to her.
She quickly found out. With lightning speed, he bound her hands behind her back. Extra loops of rope fastened her wrists securely to her ankles. She was completely immobile. The cold, rough floor cut at her knees but it was impossible to stand.
In this position, all she could do was prop herself up with one shoulder. Otherwise, her face would have been ground into the stone floor. Her ass was sticking up in the air and she was bound so tightly the circulation in her wrists and feet was cut off.
Never had she felt more helpless. No matter what this man wanted to do to her, he could.
"Go on and scream if you like," he told her. "The room is completely soundproof. I prefer it that way."
"What are you going to do to me?"
"Punish you, of course. You're not being properly obedient. You ran away from me. No slave does that and escapes disciplining."
He still held six or eight lengths of the soft cotton clothesline in his hand. He slapped the length of rope across his palm as if trying it out. He seemed pleased, for he said, "Now your ass will be properly punished by my ropes!"
She almost laughed in spite of her awkward position. How could those soft ropes really hurt her?
She'd forgotten the feel of them as they lashed out and landed on her back while he was chasing her. Quickly, she remembered the pain they could cause when wielded properly. He was a master in more ways than one. Every strand left its mark on her lily-white ass.
Behind was a red mark. He quickly crisscrossed her butt with his rope whip. Over and over, with increasingly painful strength, he delivered the blows until her entire ass was a bright cherry red.
The pain and awkwardness of the position bothered her at first. Then, strangely, she began to feel the warmth of the whipping enter her body. Not only was her ass flaring bright and hot, but her insides were coming alive, too.
She couldn't explain it, but the very helplessness of her position made it all the more exciting. The pain was becoming something to cherish. She anticipated each blow. The lances of white-hot flame jabbing into her butt turned into liquid fire pooling in her cunt.
In spite of herself, she was becoming aroused. She wanted this man. She needed his cock fucking her. He was so in command of the situation she knew she would do anything he wanted, instantly and without question.
"Fuck me, please take me now! I want to feel your cock inside me! I'm burning up with desire for you!"
"Slut!" he snarled. "Whore! Slimy cunt! That's all you ever think of. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'll show you! I'll teach you the proper respect and discipline!"
She couldn't see what he was doing. She heard pails slopping with liquid and the harsh grating of his shoe soles against the floor. Painfully moving around, she managed to twist around to see what he was doing.
"No!" she cried out. "You can't! That's inhuman!"
"Silence!" he roared. "I'll do with you as I please. I'm going to give you an enema. Warm kerosene and water with a few other things mixed in so they'll burn your filthy asshole out! And you'll keep every drop inside you until I order you to release it. If you don't, I'll really punish you!"
His momentary glance was toward a pail filled with branding irons. In spite of herself, fear filled the bound girl. She'd do anything to keep this man from using those hot irons on her. She remembered all too clearly the one letter she'd read about the man using a soldering iron. It may have been this very man!
She didn't know. And that frightened her even more.
When he thrust the tube into her asshole, she cringed. He swatted one of her asscheeks with his opened hand.
"Relax!" he ordered.
She couldn't. He didn't seem to notice. He continued running the plastic tubing into her bowels. Then he started pouring in the hot, fearsome mixture.
She screamed. The agony as the hot enema gushed through her bowels was too much to withstand without crying out. She cried until tears rolled down her cheeks. And then she moaned out, "It's so damned hot! I can't take it! I can't!"
He slapped her ass one more time and said, "Silly bitch. You'd be dead if I put in cold water. Let it burn your guts for a minute, then we'll fuck. You'll be given the gift of my cock!"
He jerked the tube out of her asshole. She made a valiant effort to close her anal sphincter and keep the odious fluids inside her. There was no way she wanted him using those branding irons on her flesh. She could smell the hot iron all the way across the room.
Turning her over like a turtle, he exposed her cunt. His finger probed deeply into her pussy. Much to her surprise, the finger slipped in easily. Her cunt was oozing out its oils. In spite of everything he was doing to her, she was responding.
She actually wanted him to fuck her! Incredible as it seemed to her, she was getting a perverted sexual thrill from being tied up and at his mercy. The pain only seemed to increase her desire for his cock. She didn't try to analyze it.
All she did was beg him again, "Fuck me. Please, oh, how much I need you fucking me!"
"I know. Very well. You've been a good slave so far."
His hand spread her legs painfully far apart. The girl's shoulder muscles knotted in pain. Lying on her back, hands bound behind her and to her ankles, she was in a contorted position. When he exposed his cock, however, she forgot all about it.
His cock was immense. She didn't know if it was actually as large as it appeared or if her own desires made it look that way. She couldn't have cared less. All she knew was that she wanted it. She wanted every goddamn inch of that cock.
"Don't release a single drop of the enema," he warned. Then he was between her legs, his prick shoving hard toward her pussy lips.
She screamed aloud as she felt his cock sailing along her cunt. The liquid in her bowels slushed around at the sudden intrusion of his cock into her pussy. The awful feelings echoing back and forth, from cunt to asshole, made her cry out piteously.
She was confused. She didn't know if she hated him for this pain and torture or loved him dearly. The world was pleasure and agony. Everything was intermixed until she couldn't separate it any longer.
The pain of the burning hot enema threatened to destroy her. His cock slowly fucking her gave her new strength. As he rammed in and out of her fuck hole, she felt her joy building inside.
"Harder! Deeper! Oh, god, yesssss! It's tremendous!" she moaned out. The feeling of his prick moving in her gave sensations she had never even believed possible.
Pain, yes. But there was incredible pleasure, too. She felt the slow pressures of sexual tension mounting in her belly. It wouldn't be long before she came.
Struggling to keep in the enema she continued to plead with him, "Fuck me harder! I want all of your sweet cock in me! IN MEEEEE!"
He didn't bother answering her. He was concentrating on fucking her. With great deliberation, he speeded up the tempo of his hip action. A machine couldn't have produced a more rhythmic motion. He was fucking her with long, penetrating strokes.
When he started lashing out with the rope across her tits, she came.
Everything was simply too much for her to bear.
The pain of the enema was great. She had to struggle to keep it inside her ass. But the pleasure he was giving her from the fucking filled her with renewed strength. When the sudden lashing pain of the whip across her turgid nipples smashed into her body, she felt like an overloaded circuit.
She arched over and climaxed.
Never had she believed such intensity of emotion possible in her young, trim body. She felt as if the top of her head had been blown off by an atomic bomb.
"Liked it, didn't you!" he cried. He began lashing out faster and faster with the ropes across her tits. As he did, his fucking continued. He was reaming her out better than she'd ever been fucked before.
When she came again, it was even more powerful than the first time. This orgasm robbed her totally of control over her body. All the pent-up fluids of the noxious enema came pouring out amid a shower of kerosene and shit.
As she wallowed in the pool of slime, she realized he was no longer fucking her. He was standing over her, his cock firmly in hand. He beat off and sent his cum arching into the air to smash into her face. In a matter of seconds, her hair and eyebrows were completely matted with his jism.
"Enough," he said, tucking away his depleted cock. She watched as he walked over and got a garden hose. For a ghastly second, she thought he was going to ram that up her cunt, then turn on the water full force. Instead, he hosed her down.
He continued spraying her until she was completely cleaned both of the enema and his cum. Then he quickly cut the wet ropes with a long, wicked bladed knife.
"Dress," he ordered. "Wear that." He pointed to a shapeless garment hanging on a hook.
She put it on. The rough fabric irritated her still-aroused nipples but she said nothing. He kicked her jeans toward her and silently watched as she put them on. She felt like a bug under a microscope.
Suddenly, he announced, "You may go."
He pivoted and disappeared.
Joanne was shaken. She'd gotten off in a big way on the bizarre bondage trip with all the extras added. She wasn't certain she liked it, but she'd undoubtedly had the sexual experience of her life.
Still, she wasn't going to stick around and repeat it. Not now or maybe never again.
She left as fast as she could, thankful to see the light of day once more.