Chapter 8
Gertrude sat helpless in the desk before the brawny, cruel man who would soon become her sex master.
Although the prim college professor had been infatuated and even stimulated by the lewd, vulgar stories of sexual violence and human bondage that Professor Becker had been composing for her reading pleasure over the past few weeks, Gertrude was not quite sure she would be able to handle physical pain being inflicted on her tender flesh in the name of love.
The woman had been thrilled by the sight and feel of the iron dildo that Professor Becker had placed on her chair in the lecture hall, yet she had been unable to shove the heavy tool with the sharp spikes up her moist cunt, even at the height of fuck-hungry lust.
Gertrude was sure that she would not be a very good sex slave because of this.
She knew that the tormented bitches in the lewd essays that the head of the English Department had composed scream and wailed in anguish and pain, but she always had the feeling that they secretly enjoyed every bit of torture that their masters and mistresses wracked their bodies with.
Gertrude would never be able to enjoy pain.
Or would she?
Professor Becker threw back his head and guffawed with cruel glee when he took a good look at his new sex slave.
"Now that you can't open that filthy, lying mouth of yours any more," he said. "I must make sure that you won't be able to escape. Not that you would really want to, anyway. I'm sure those stories of mine got your little cunt hot. I'm sure they got your pussy juices flowing."
The man took a thick strand of rope from his back pocket.
"Let's get that sweater off of you. I want to take a good look at those fine tits of yours, Gertrude," Professor Becker said.
The young woman shrank down into the confines of the desk chair in terror as Professor Becker suddenly attacked her breasts with his grimy, thick fingers.
She tried to yell, but the two metal bars that held her tongue captive rendered any intelligent remark incomperable.
"Ooh, yeah! These really are nice, supple tits!" the man grinned, staring lewdly at the luscious mounds that graced Gertrude's breasts.
"And I bet they look as good as they feel!" Professor Becker exclaimed, suddenly pulling the sweater off of Gertrude's body.
Gertrude attempted to gasp.
Her boobs suddenly bounced forward with a resounding smack against her skin; Gertrude rarely wore a bra.
Professor Becker's fuck-crazy hands grabbed her tiny erect nipples and squeezed them. Tightly.
Gertrude winced in pain.
The man was squashing and pinching her nipples so brutally that she half-feared that they might fall off at any moment!
She struggled to jump up from the chair and out of the man's grasp.
Professor Becker slapped her savagely across the face.
Gertrude gave a tiny yelp and felt warm blood trickling out of her left, pierced nostril.
"You slutty whore!" the man bellowed. "If you won't keep your silly ass still, I'm going to have to tie you in place!"
He grabbed Gertrude's left arm and brought it down firmly on the left arm of the desk chair.
Taking the rope he had pulled out of his pocket moments earlier, the muscular, cruel man bound Gertrude's arm so tightly to the chair that blood almost stopped running to her hand immediately.
Gertrude attempted to struggle, but received yet another brutal smack across the face.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Professor Becker began to take of his belt.
Gertrude stared in horror.
Was the man about to expose himself?
Would he rape her right in the middle of her office?
But Professor Becker kept his trousers on. For the moment.
The man wanted to bind Gertrude's right arm to the chair with his belt.
He wound the belt tightly around the young woman's arm and the arm of the chair.
Gertrude wriggled in anguish.
"And now, you filthy, cunt-sucking bitch, I have a special treat for you," Professor Becker said.
The man sat on the desk before the trembling college professor.
He took a sheaf of papers out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and thrust them at Gertrude's pain-wracked face triumphantly.
"The final composition by Harrison Young!" the man exclaimed. "I hope you won't feel to uncomfortable. This last essay if much more violent and bloody than the other ones. Which makes it the best, obviously. And I think you know the main protagonist rather well. Her name is Gertrude Greengates!"
Gertrude would have moaned in dismay had her mouth not been indisposed.
She sat before the head of the English Department, her arms bound to the chair, her breasts exposed and covered with goose bumps, blood trickling out of her nose, and the strange contraption on her face.
And now Professor Becker was going to read her a story! The man was deranged! Well and truly mad! Insane!
Tears began to flow from Gertrude's eyes as Professor Becker cleared his throat and began to read aloud:
Everybody thought that Gertrude Greengates was a pretty, proper college professor. She was well-liked by her colleagues and treated with respect by her adoring students.
But nobody would have liked Gertrude Greengates one bit if they knew what a filthy, disgusting whore the young woman really was deep down inside.
Gertrude Greengates was a putrid, cock-sucking SLUT!
This slimy bitch would spread her legs for any type of fuckmeat she saw walking down the street. Stinking, homeless bums. Drunken, fuck-hungry niggers. Dogs in heat.
Gertrude Greengates had had them all.
Their vile, repulsive cocks had been shoved deep down her smelly, shriveled pussy and spurt their loads of yellow, fetid jism down her vulgar shaft.
And Gertrude had enjoyed every second of these odious, depraved rape sessions.
She lived for them.
Her fuck-lusting pussy couldn't survive without being violated at least two or three times a day.
This filthy whore didn't care where she dropped her drawers.
She would fuck anywhere.
Public shithouses, parking lots, behind the meat counter at supermarkets: all had been places where Gertrude had stripped the clothes from her infested, rotting body to receive the thick slabs of fuckmeat her sordid little mind couldn't survive without.
Gertrude Greengates would take those throbbing shafts of cockflesh everywhere and anywhere.
In her pussy.
In her mouth.
Up the ass.
Yes, Gertrude was a sick, disgusting nympho who couldn't exist without her daily dose of pulsating prickmeat.
And she had to be taught a lesson.
Her scabby pussy had to be purified.
Cleansed.
Defecated.
And the best person to put Gertrude Greengates through her moral and spiritual cleansing was Mistress Death.
Mistress Death was known in the underworld of Gertrude Greengates s hometown as the most vicious, violent, dominatrix around.
She was cold blooded.
She was pitiless.
And she was also the most gorgeous woman Gertrude had even laid eyes on.
When the slutty, degenerate tramp first laid eyes on Mistress Death at one of the most sleazy sex clubs in Minnesota, Gertrude forgot all about her disgusting lusting for hot, thick cock.
Gertrude wanted tight, smelly pussy.
She wanted Mistress Death's pussy.
And Mistress Death was only to happy to introduce the vile college professor to the wonders of filthy lesbian sex.
Mistress Death had heard all about Gertrude; who hadn't? She was the most infamous slut in town!
Gertrude Greengates intrigued the dominatrix greatly.
The college professor had to be taught a lesson. She had to learn that spreading her legs to every thick dick that appeared before her eyes was not right.
Mistress Death took Gertrude home to her dungeon of horrors that evening.
And bloody visions of cruel, inhuman tortures danced gleefully in Mistress Death's gore-craving mind.
Gertrude would learn her lesson, or she would not be able to leave her dungeon alive!
"W-where are you taking me?" Gertrude asked in her pitiful, timid voice when Mistress Death led her down three flights of stairs.
The passageways were cold and clammy and covered with mildew.
"You'll find out soon enough, bitch!" Mistress Death snapped, suddenly whirling around and smacking Gertrude roughly across her face.
Gertrude yelped in pain and caressed her cheek.
Mistress Death's long, sharp fingernails had almost dug into her delicate skin!
Gertrude followed her leather-clad dominatrix further and further down the seemingly endless spiral of stairs.
Her cheek was throbbing painfully and she was becoming a bit apprehensive as to exactly what would occur once they reached their ultimate destination.
The whore in Gertrude desperately wanted to run the tip of her moist, cunt-hungry tongue along the length of Mistress Death's trembling pussy lips.
But Gertrude was also a sniveling, pitiful coward who would have shied from any potentially dangerous situation.
Unless the promise of lewd, vulgar sex was in the air.
And at this moment, Gertrude's well-honed pussy was twitching in delight at the thought of a cheap fling in the sack with the beautiful Mistress Death, even while her heart was quickening with fear as she descended another step.
Gertrude was such a horny little cunt that she would have gladly stared death in the face if she knew she would be slurping down some stinky, slimy fuck juice as her reward.
Mistress Death took a large key out of her pocket and opened a forbidding oak door decorated with thick metal plates.
"Get your slutty little ass in there, you whore!" Mistress Death suddenly screamed with such fury that Gertrude uttered a shocked shriek.
The tall, handsome woman thrust Gertrude's well-fucked body into her sex chambers.
Gertrude stumbled and fell to the cobblestoned floor, yelping in terror and almost spraining her wrist with the force of the shove.
Mistress Death slammed the door shut with a resounding thud.
Gertrude struggled to get up from the floor, but was kicked in her ample but much-abused tits by the woman's well-polished leather boots.
Gertrude gasped and clutched at her boobs.
"Why did you do that?" she asked the cruel, angular woman who was standing over her with an air of authority.
Mistress Death gazed down hautily at Gertrude's pitiful form.
"Because you are a filthy, slutty bitch who needs to be taught a lesson! After I'm through with you this evening, your slimy pussy will be so battered and rotten that you won't be able to even THINK of fucking another man in your life! I will keep you for my very own! My own little slutty sex slave!"
Mistress Death threw back her powdered, painted face and screeched with cruel laughter.
She suddenly stopped mid-way through and her eyes bored into Gertrude's.
Mistress Death growled in a gruff, serious tone: "You will be my sex slave, BUT ONLY IF YOU SURVIVE THIS EVENING IN ONE PIECE! And believe me, many nights after I have had these ... sexual training sessions...! have had to clean up fetid bits of mangled flesh. I have had to air the room to rid it of the repulsive stench of ravaged skin. I hope that this will not be necessary with you, Gertrude. My whorish little cunt-sucking bitch."
Gertrude trembled on the damp floor in fear. What horrible situation had her sluttish lust for fuck action gotten her into this time?
As Mistress Death's deep-set eyes bored into her own, Gertrude seriously wondered if she would ever leave the dominatrix's torture chamber alive.
She glanced around the dungeon.
Shackles and chains hung from the walls.
An assortment of thick leather whips were displayed in the far corner.
A stretching rack, an iron maiden and a series of brands were situated in various sections of the cold, damp chamber.
Gertrude stared at the torture devices in horror.
But, little slut that she was. the young college professor had to admit that the idea of such a bizarre evening alone in Mistress Death's chamber of terror was making her pussy hot and dripping.
She might have to put up with a bit of pain, but if her reward for surviving a night full of torture would give her the chance to run her moist, cunthungry tongue along the sugar walls of Mistress Death's hairy pussy, Gertrude thought that the agony would be worth it.
Little did she realize, however, exactly how brutal Mistress Death would be to her.
The gorgeous dominatrix knew she had the upper hand as far as the fuck-lusting wench was concerned. Gertrude would be willing to do anything to taste her hot fuck hole!
Mistress Death grinned with evil delight at the girl she had just thrown to the cold, stone floor.
"You fucking slut!" she screamed, suddenly reaching down and clawing the flimsy white blouse that revealed Gertrude's much-sucked tits.
With one savage pull, Mistress Death had torn the blouse from Gertrude's chest.
The buttons were ripped from the delicate material and scattered all over the dungeon floor.
Gertrude gasped as her boobs bounded out of the blouse and bounced lusciously infront of Mistress Death's smoldering eyes.
The dominatrix had to admit that Gertrude had a fine set of tits.
They were creamy, firm and supple.
Their tips were graced by tiny, erect nipples.
But they were also the tits of a sleazy slut who had been fucked by whatever man would take her.
Mistress Death refused to touch them until she had cleansed Gertrude Greengates and taught the bitch a lesson she desperately needed to learn.
"Those tits have been groped by so many fetid, filthy hands," Mistress Death announced. "That I will NOT lay a finger on them until you have been taught not to be a slimy little whore!"
Gertrude hung her head in shame.
Mistress Death's fingers wrapped around the zipper that held Gertrude's skin-tight jeans in place.
The dominatrix thrust it down and swiftly removed the revealing pants.
She stared at the luscious but much-fucked pussy that lay between Gertrude's soft, smooth thighs.
"Hmm! That's nice, too!" the cruel woman cooed. "But once again, your filthy pussy needs to be cleaned and I am the only one who can do it!"
Gertrude had squirmed in discomfort when the woman had pulled her jeans off. The floor of the dungeon was so cold, and she was lying on top of the icy cobblestones with not a stitch of clothing on.
She did not feel very comfortable or ready for sex at that moment.
But Mistress Death cared nothing at all about how the dirty slut felt.
Her purification session was about to begin!
Mistress Death ran to the corner that held the assortment of whips and selected the thickest.
It was so large and bulky that the dominatrix almost had trouble lifting it over her head.
Gertrude trembled on the cold stone floor as the beautiful lady clad in leather approached her prone form wielding the heavy bullwhip.
And suddenly she was screaming in pain as Mistress Death lashed out with the whip and struck her tender flesh with the thick, leather strip.
Gertrude attempted to scramble across the stone floor.
She had had no idea that the woman would be so brutal!
The whip had struck her on her right tit and had dug into her tender skin, leaving a heavy red welt that seemed ready to trickle forth warm, red blood at any moment.
Mistress Death threw back her head and shrieked with laughter like a banshee.
She lashed out again and again at Gertrude's body as the filthy slut scrambled across the floor as quickly as she could.
But Mistress Death was a pro at whipping the shit out of these vulgar bitches.
The whip struck Gertrude on her back, on her legs, on her ass.
Huge gashes appeared on the terrified woman's creamy skin.
It was not long before blood was coursing down Gertrude's skin.
"Stop! Stop! Oh, please, stop!" the girl begged, jumping once again as the whip struck her on the head.
But for Mistress Death, the fun was only beginning!
The dominatrix continued wailing with mad, hysterical laughter as she whipped Gertrude's putrid body with powerful, professional strokes.
There was no where in the dungeon Gertrude could hide from the fuck-crazed woman's lustful strokes of the whip!
Soon, Mistress Death had backed Gertrude up into a corner.
Gertrude Greengates looked up at her nascent sex mistress with tears flooding her eyes.
"PLEASE!! PLEASE!! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME!! OH, STOP! STOP!!! STOP!!!!" Gertrude wailed as blood poured down her pillaged body.
"That's the idea, you little whore!" the dominatrix cackled. "They don't call me Mistress Death for nothing, you know!"
But the woman suddenly thrust the whip away.
Gertrude huddled in the corner, shivering and attempting to nurse the numerous wounds that covered her naked, bloody body.
"Now it's time to tie you up and have you meet the pussy masher!" Mistress Death announced.
Gertrude shivered.
Sex had never been like this before!
And the little whore was not so sure she would enjoy the rest of the activities Mistress Death had so carefully planned for her!
The pussy masher?
What on earth could that be?
Gertrude realized she would be finding out.
Much sooner than she really wanted to!
The vicious, cruel dominatrix strutted over to the stretching rack and suddenly thrust off her clothes.
Even thought Gertrude was still in agony over the brutal whipping she had received, the filthy little nympho still felt her pussy trembling in delight as Mistress Death's shapely body was revealed before her lusting eyes.
The woman's tits and ass were just as luscious as Gertrudes'!
But much cleaner, of course!
Mistress Death whirled around and presented her nubile, sexy figure to Gertrude's total rapture.
"See this, bitch?" she asked, lewdly shoving a firm, slender finger between her pink pussy lips.
Gertrude gasped and nodded eagerly, even as she wiped the tears from her face and the blood from her skin.
"I'll be damned it you're going to get a piece of it until you are totally purified!" Mistress Death cackled cruelly.
Gertrude was crushed.
The fuck-lusting slut was desperate for Mistress Death's steaming cunt hole!
"And this is the pussy masher that will help rid you of your filthy, sluttish habits!" Mistress Death proclaimed, Gertrude, still shuddering in the corner in a pool of her own blood, gaped at a strange contraption that the beautiful, wicked creature pulled out from underneath the stretching rack.
It looked like a huge, three feel hypodermic needle made of iron.
A thick tube had a large handle-like device at one end. At the other was a forbidding, rounded shaft of iron that looked as if it would have trouble fitting into Gertrude's much-abused yet very tight pussy.
And the college professor had a sneaking suspicion that Mistress Death was planning on strapping that bizarre contraption around her ass, positioning the tube over her pussy, and shove the thick, iron shaft between her ravaged rwat walls!
Gertrude had been fucked by some pretty big cocks in her very slutty life, but she had never had one as monstrous at that thick, iron shaft plunged up her pussy!
She winced as she imagined how awful it would feel being thrust up her cunt.
Yet the girl realized that nothing would stop Mistress Death from carrying out her sordid, violent plans of sexual purification!
Mistress Death's hands trembled in anticipation as she attached a thin rope to one side of the bottom of the tube. This rope was in turn attached to a ring.
Gertrude might have been a slut, but she was a clever slut.
Not only had she realized what Mistress Death was planning on doing with the strange contraption she held in her hands, Gertrude figured correctly that the ring on the end of the rope was going to be shoved up her nose!
Gertrude thought of the two pointed sides of the ring snapping through the cartilage between her nostrils, and suddenly begged the dominatrix to come to her senses and free her from the dungeon of horror.
"I'll do anything you want me to, just let me go! Don't shove that thing up my pussy! I'll never be able to handle it! Don't shove that ring in my nose! I'll bleed to death!" Gertrude groaned.
Mistress Death thought this comment highly amusing, especially since the girls' flesh was already covered with coagulating blood from the deep gashes the lashes of the whip had ravaged her skin with.
Once again, Mistress Death threw back her head and cackled with hysterical laughter.
"You fucking whore!" she laughed. "I can do what the hell I want to with your filthy body! You're a vulgar slut who DESERVES to bleed to death! You'll be lucky if I decide to let you out of here alive!"
And with this terrifying comment. Mistress Death approached the trembling bitch with her eyes ablaze.
In her hands was the pussy masher, and a thick strand of rope.
Mistress Death smacked Gertrude a few times for good measure.
Although the woman had stripped her clothes from her fine body. Mistress Death had left her pointed leather boots on.
She kicked Gertrude mercilessly as the young college professor screamed and clawed at the walls for refuge.
None was given.
Gertrude was well and truly a prisoner in the torture chamber of this beautiful, cruel sadist!
"Stop your sobbing, cunt!" Mistress Death sneered.
She reached down and swiftly wrapped the strand of rope around Gertrude's legs and arms.
Soon, Gertrude was on her back on the cobbles-toned floor.
Both her arms and her legs had been tied together, and she grunted in discomfort as the gashes in her back scraped against the icy cold floor.
"Let me strap this pussy masher on that filthy cunt of yours, bitch!" Mistress Death said. "First, though, I'm going to have to stick this ring in your nose!"
Gertrude had never wanted a pierced nose before, but the position Mistress Death had just bound her up in did not leave her much of a chance for protest.
Mistress Death shoved the two sides of the ring into each nostril of Gertrude's pug nose.
She snapped them together.
Gertrude screamed as she felt the delicate cartilage between her two nostrils suddenly crack as the ring was secured in place.
Blood dribbled out of her nose and trickled into her mouth.
Gertrude choked and attempted to spit out her own blood.
Mistress Death strapped the pussy masher into position before Gertrude's terrified twat.
She wrapped leather strips around Gertrude's legs and tied them securely into place.
Gertrude could feel the tip of the thick, iron shaft that would soon be thrust deeply up her pussy lingering at the entrance to her fuck tunnel.
That cold, iron rod was going to absolutely rip her insides out!
She would be torn to shreads!
Gertrude Greengates would never be able to fuck like the sleazy little whore she was ever again!
But why hadn't Mistress Death shoved the handle forward, and forced the thick iron shaft to violate her twat? Why was the dominatrix going back over to the stretching rack?
"That big metal cock is going to fuck the hell out of your filthy twat," Mistress Death said. "But it is going to rape you with MY help!"
Gertrude gasped in horror as Mistress Death suddenly pulled out a huge metal belt with a monstrous hammer attached at the crotch.
Mistress Death was going to hammer the thick iron shaft into Gertrude's pussy!
The slutty little college professor lay on the cobblestones of Mistress Death's chamber of torture, blood pouring from the wound of her body and dripping from her nose, her arms and legs bound together and a gargantuan, metal cock positioned in front of her pussy.
Mistress Death was going to rape her sex slave with that big iron cock and save Gertrude from her vulgar, whorish fucking!
For after the dominatrix had finished hammering the iron shaft up Gertrude's fetid twat, Gertrude Greengates would be too battered and ravaged to ever want a thick, hot cock sliding up her hole ever again!