Chapter 2
Gustoff had a hard time sleeping when he was alone. He dreamt of women bleeding all over him.
The bleeding turned him on of course but he didn't much like sleeping with a hard-on and he didn't like wet dreams, either.
He liked to come inside a cunt, not against the sheets.
He strolled out of the room, in search of entertainment.
The dawn was a long way yet, perhaps a couple of hours before the first signs of light.
He went to his room and looked through the files, wondering where his commanders were. He picked up the intercom mike and began calling different code numbers. The board kept blinking red, signaling that the rooms were empty.
At last he got one green light and an answering voice.
"Where the hell is everybody?" said Gustoff to commander spade.
"A couple of the guys are with me," the commando answered, "should we come over?"
"What the hell are you all doing?"
"We have this chick on the pincers and we're timing here, to see how long she can hold out."
"What are you going to do with the information?"
"We have a book listing the strongest cunts in the whole camp."
"That's a good idea.
"I'll come over and watch the proceedings myself."
Gustoff hung up, feeling better, knowing that there was a party going on. He liked a lot of action at the end of the night. He had chosen his commandos for their brains, as well as for their ability to fuck cunts.
Before he went to the room where the commandos were gathered, he stopped by the commissary, and slugged down three quarts of beer. Then he continued to the alleys, moving quickly beneath the soft blue lights, proud of the layout that he had engineered. He came to the commandos' hut, knocked with the entry signal, and was let in immediately.
The men saluted him, clicked their heels. He looked over their uniforms to make sure that everything was spic and span. He liked his commandos looking perfect at all times, especially when they were with one of the cunts.
They looked pretty good, he had to admit. Boots polished, pants pressed, shirts and ties neat, caps at just the right set angle above steely eyes and straight eyebrows.
"Well then," said Gustoff, "let's see the action.
They saluted him. The commandos he had spoken with on the telephone led the way.
The hut had various rooms within its confines.
They went down a circular flight of stairs into the dark earth where the cellars were.
In a little while they came to the outside of a wooden door.
Behind it was a creaky sound going on and on.
"She's in there," said the commando.
"I know, I know, let's see it."
Impatiently Gustoff waited for the commando to open the door. He followed the commander inside not going first now, but letting his second lieutenant lead the way. It was all exactly as had been described to him.
At first he could not see her face.
It was covered with dark hair, beautiful glossy black hair. His eyes riveted on her large breasts that were encased in ropes that squeezed hard at the base.
Her nipples stuck out a mile, her arms behind her back were attached to a rod by means of ropes.
A rope tied her knees and ankles together.
Her black silk garter belt was frayed as she swung up and down, up and down, above the threatening points of steel pincers.
She had missed a couple of times and had bounced down and been pinched. That much was obvious. Her cunt was red and inflamed. Bits of flesh hung in shreds.
"How long as she been like that?" said Gustoff.
"Half the night," said the commando. "And what's the time limit?"
"Well, if she's to set the record, it has to go on like this until ten in the morning."
"Do you think she'll make it?"
"I'm optimistic."
"What's her name?"
"Lena."
"Who found her."
The commando grinned. "Don't you remember? It was at the festival. You spotted her first and pointed her out to me, and I went about my business."
Gustoff understood that the commando had kidnapped this girl on the night of the party.
"Does she have any family?"
"No one has made any announcements."
"Nothing in the paper or on the radio?"
"No."
"What about the police?"
"We have no alerts from that score, either."
"Well okay then."
Gustoff watched her for awhile, bouncing over the dangerous metal claws.
He shook his head and motioned for the commandos to cut her loose.
"But why?"
"I don't really give a damn about setting records, all I want is my amusement and I don't really get a kick by someone who is going to be plucked to death by metal beaks."
The commando chuckled. "I see," he said, "you want to do the plucking yourseelf."
Gustoff didn't answer. He didn't have to.
He leaned over to a table where there was an assortment of whips, and picked one up.
He turned and' flicked it lightly over the commandos' face, because he thought that the guy was getting smart and should be put in his place.
The commando felt the red welt that had been made on his cheeks and suddenly his eyes became nill.
"That's the idea," Gustoff said, "no back talk."
One thing Gustoff was, was the absolute leader of the whole mob. No one was ever going to try and voice an opinion in his presence.
They cut the girl down and she staggered and fell on the floor. Gustoff looked down at the pitiful pieces of flesh, barely being held together.
"When was she last fed?"
They shrugged.
"Well get her something."
"A shot of whiskey would be best," said one of the men.
"Yes," said Gustoff, "whiskey will bring her around, but bring some food too."
They looked at him as though he'd lost his marbles.
He didn't feel it was necessary to answer them.
He knew what he was doing. He knew that he wanted to resurrect this one a little bit, that bright red cunt looked like it could use a little fucking.
He strode the room flicking the whip this way and that through the air, testing it on different legs and faces of the men, making them like sheep before him.
He didn't beat them though, the way he beat women, he just kind of gave them the message. It made them stronger, in a way, and solidified their loyalty to them, but he wanted more than anything a gang of strong men to second his desires. If anyone got the idea that he could be deposed, than his game would be over.
But nobody would get such an idea, because nobody could dethrone him. He was the absolute master by virtue of cruelty, as well as his power and stamina.
When some food and whiskey were brought, he motioned everyone out of the room. He stood there with the girl and the food, satisfied to be alone with her. She didn't make a move to it, although he knew she must be starving.
He pushed the tray of food close to her face.
"Eat," he commanded. She could not move.
He looked at her and saw that her limbs ached, and that she was too weak to do anything to help herself.
This was how a woman should be, actually, dependent on him completely, even for the very act of nourishing the body.
He bent down and lifted the shot of whiskey in his hands.
He brought the glass to her lips.
"Drink this," he commanded.
Her mouth trembled and her mouth opened. She glugged down the shot of whiskey and shuddered.
"There, that's good, isn't it?" he said.
She coughed a bit and nodded.
"Now take some food."
She tried to reach for the sandwich but her arms wouldn't go. They were stiff from having been bound behind her back for so long.
He picked up half the sandwich and forced it to her mouth.
She began to eat suddenly in large hungry bites. He was glad to see that there was still plenty of spirit left in this cunt.
He knew that when she had finished eating, he would really fuck her.
She devoured the food with every movement of his wrist until she had completed the job and the tray was wiped clean.
He pushed it away then and dropped to his knees beside her.
He straddled her body.
She looked up at him.
He saw her eyes watching his hard-on come to life.
She watched it grow longer and longer, her face dazzled by the sight of his cock.
"Never seen anything quite so huge, heh?" he chuckled.
She shook her head no.
"Well you ain't seen nothing yet," he said. He opened his pants and whipped out the dong.
It stood proudly above her like a fucking flag pole.
The head was large and bulbous and slimy. Behind it the shaft was thick and pulsing with veins. His balls hung like horse balls. He reached down with his hand and lifted her head.
Her skull was cold and heavy.
But he felt life beginning to strain in her neck. She came up to face his prick. She was looking at it very closely now, her mouth practically touching the tip.
"Blow me off," he said.
She didn't have to be commanded twice.
She opened her lips, and he pressed his tool into her. mouth. She knew how to keep her throat open.
He forced his cock deep into her mouth and it disappeared right up to the hilt. His balls swung in front of her chin.
He felt her tongue beginning to flick behind the head of his dong, he had great sensations there and he began to shudder. She was making him feel real good, yeah, real good.
Her lips tightened around his shaft. She began to suck him off.
She knew how to milk him with her mouth real well. She began to move her head faster. He clutched her skull, and banged it down harder on him and then pulled her away, and banged again, moving her head even faster up and down on him until she was going like a fucking train.
He felt all of his juices beginning to rise out of his balls and into his hard-on.
He began to tremble.
His knees felt tense and the sensation of iron-bound desire went up to his thighs and even into his ass.
He felt his ass hole quivering;, a strange, but delightful sensation.
Suddenly he felt himself gathering force.
He hung suspended as his tool began to spit. He watched her and saw her throat moving as she was swallowing every drop.
Yeah, she knew how to make it good for him.
He liked that. He liked seeing how being a real good slave for him excited her. She sucked him off altogether and he felt that she would do it for him every five minutes if he wanted her to.
He pulled her head off his tool now and let her fall back onto the ground.
"You're pretty good," he said, "I understand you could have won the world's record for hanging on."
She began to groan and shudder. The thought made her miserable.
"You see, I saved you."
"Oh yes, master, yes, you really did that. I'm so glad. I will do anything for you."
Gustoff chuckled.
"You will, dear, you will!"
She didn't get the implication. Didn't understand his message. She was too sick and too tired and too scared to care about much else other than being able to get some sleep now.
He figured to leave well enough alone. He didn't want the line between life and death to get any thinner.
"Okay, bitch face," he said.