JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 4 Chapter 13
She was scared, my Little Girl. I mean really scared. I had never seen her eyes so filled with terror … terror and tears.
Her simple words “Will I die?” were bordering on being heart-breaking, even to me, her torturer.
“Please, Sir, don’t do this …” Red was still pleading for her friend, her lover … and she called me ‘Sir’ in her desperation to appeal to my common sense. But this scene transcended common sense, it transcended anything at all …
“Yes, I believe you will, Little Girl,” was all I said in response to the slut’s question. I had already tied thick string around the slut’s neck, securing her to the wooden plank, and was currently busy tying the same binding around her ankles. She made no movement to get up, despite my fatalistic reply, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she had struggled, because she was already bound to the board. As the slut whimpered I looked down at the Cross Brand near to her mound. I fingered it, touching the healing mark …
“You will always be mine Little Girl.”
The whimper turned into a groan, or did I imagine that?
I might well have imagined the slut’s groan, but the moan that came from behind me was very real, and caused me to look round especially when I heard the thud that went with it.
I stared at Red, who was crumpled on the dusty floor. Her eyes were open but she looked dizzy, dazed almost …
“You can’t kill her?” It was a question not a statement and as such needed no response.
I continued to bind the slut. Completing the ankle tie I moved to the tops of her thighs. I wrapped several lengths of the twine around her thighs, right at the very top, pulling them together, before tying her wrists and knotting each wrist rope with the twine around her thighs, securing her hands by her side. I then took the binding and wrapped it under her legs but around the wood. The resultant look was very aesthetically pleasing, and as I stood my pleased expression most probably showed that was the case.
Kneeling once more, the last tie had gone around my Little Girl’s knees, and now she was immovably secured to the long wooden plank that was raised from the ground by a small stack of bricks and concrete pieces at either end, with the ‘foot’ end being raised higher so that any excess water from the ‘Boarding would run up her face and into her nose.
I looked back round at Red, who was now kneeling, her jacket and sweater removed to reveal a skimpy blue vest top.
“Do you want to kiss her Red?” I asked. If my intonation made it sound like the offer was for them to engage in a final kiss then that had been my intention. With a sob her flame-haired friend crawled over to my slut and, placing a gently hand on her cheek, she lowered her mouth until their lips touched. Then she kissed my Little Girl, who kissed her back.
“Move away,” Finally, after watching them embrace, I issued my orders to Red, and she did. The room was flickering and cast with large shadows from the candles, which, unless the automatic bulb was on, which it wasn’t, the candles were the only light we had. We had no indication of night or day outside, rain or shine … it was like being inside a Pharaoh’s tomb …
The slut was visibly shaking, and she had clenched her fists in an effort to control her tremors. Red had moved away and was now backed up against the wall, watching everything unfold …
“And now we begin,” I said, maybe a little overdramatically.
I wrapped a cloth tightly under my Little Girl’s head and then around her face so that she was forced to breathe through the coarse material. The shape of her open nose and mouth was clearly defined under the fabric.
Stripped down to my tee shirt, with my free hand I picked up the plastic jug filled with water from the nearby metal bucket, also filled with water, and began to pour
It flowed in a clear, thin stream over the cloth and for a long moment nothing happened. Then, with a sudden gasp, my Little Girl released the breath she’d been holding and inhaled the water. She choked violently, her limbs convulsing, her head shaking from side to side in a frantic attempt to deny the liquid access to her mouth.
“Jesus,” I heard Red muttering. “This is unbearable.” I turned my head briefly to look around but the girl with the long flame hair kept on watching.
On and on I poured. Glancing at the mobile phone at my side away from the water pour … I knew how long each application of water would last. After exactly twenty seconds, I stopped.
Peeling back the cloth my slut stared wide eyed at the ceiling. She couldn’t draw breath, and when her eyes began to bulge I immediately pushed her face to the side so that she could vomit the liquid contents of her stomach away from her body.
“Fuck this, you have to stop, please stop.” But Red’s pleading only spurred me on, and her plea efforts were somewhat diluted given that she made no attempt to move away from her vantage point.
Leaning into my Little Girl, and with an almost gentle touch, I smoothed the wet hair out of her eyes, tucking it back behind one ear. The slut was still shaking, the fear showing in her face.
My Little One held her breath as I stroked her breast, enjoying the feel of her wet, hard nipple. I could tell that it wasn’t a conscious decision but an instinct, her body saying, ‘no you cannot let this happen to you’. But she could only hold it so long, and of course I knew that. I also knew that by pausing like this, waiting for her to inhale, increased the mental anguish and the ultimate impact.
When, finally, my Little Girl drew a breath, a great gasping inhalation of the air her body was screaming for, it wasn’t air she sucked in but water. I decanted the second pouring with perfect timing. Water filled her throat and lungs like cement, and with it would come a bolt of pain that would only made her gasp for yet more air. And there was none, only more water.
Her lungs would be exploding and the pressure between her ears would be immense. It would be like that moment when you swam underwater as far as you could and realised you had to get to the surface, fast. But here there was no surface.
Then I reached my time and abruptly, the flow of water ceased. I peeled away the cloth again and for a moment I thought it was too late, that she was going to lose consciousness. But then, with a massive effort from within her heaving chest, she forced herself to fight for air.
Spluttering and gasping, turning her head herself this time, the slut once more vomited up what was in her lungs, the water spluttering out of her in a fountain, and she was alive.
There were no words, but she sobbed, hard, an action that only used up more energy and breath.
“And now again,” I heard myself saying. As my Little Girl shook her head violently in mute protest, I tightened the cloth over her face once more, waited for the inevitable inhalation and I poured again. This time for longer.
Her body shook …
I kept on pouring …
Her hips convulsed, thrusting up as far as the binding would allow her …
I tightened the cloth and continued to pour.
My cock was hard, my heart was racing. I had never been this consumed by lust before, ever!
Her head tried to pull away from the cloth …
But I held it firm, over her face and kept on pouring …
She mewed, and choked, and writhed like a fish in her bondage.
But I only pulled the material even tighter, pushed some of it directly into her mouth, and tipped even more water onto her face.
My Little Girl’s struggles slowed, her chest stopped heaving, her body ceased it’s lascivious squirming … the cloth over her face was rendered motionless …
… And this time she died.
