JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 3 Chapter 11
She was beautiful my Little Girl, and as we placed her carefully into position her slender, naked frame took on an aura all of its own, the pale skin contrasted against the rough, dark bark of the tree … her tree.
She groaned as Red and I held the wood in place, and for the first time I sensed her fear.
I leaned forward and with the lightest of touches caressed the outside of her left breast. It was a wondrous thing, so light yet so firm, the skin smooth to my touch. I was holding my breath trying to capture this moment for ever, and her flame-haired friend just stared as if transfixed, which maybe she was.
I ran my fingers over the nipple, then cupped the breast from beneath. I closed my hand over the firm mound, feeling its shape, before moving my mouth to the teat to suckle on her.
“Keep holding the wood Red,” I instructed as the soon-to-be-crucified-slut pushed her chest towards me encouraging and allowing me to take even more of her into my mouth. It was exquisite like nothing else could be.
Pulling the nipple end away from her body, trapped between my teeth, my Little Girl cried out and I heard Red gasp too. I would have fun hurting her, the friend. I sensed she had little, maybe no experience of this kind of pain. I relished being the facilitator of her education.
Moving away from the tree I opened the small tool box. Inside was a small container and hammer, amongst other things.
I took them out.
“Fuck,” I heard Red’s quiet voice. “You’re really going to do this?”
I nodded and looked up, an earnest look on my face. “Of course I am, what did you expect?”
“I … I …” she couldn’t really speak.
“Do you wish to leave Red?” She had better say ‘no’.
She paused, and then shook her head accompanied by the quiet response. “N … no … I would like to stay.”
“Good girl,” I responded quickly and as I did, I placed the small box and the hammer on top of the water container for the rawhide and took a plastic bag out of my pocket.
Inside the bag was a syringe and a small vial of liquid.
“What’s that,” Red asked. My Little Girl just looked down at me, saying nothing.
“It’s epinephrine,” I replied, “If I inject it into the slut it will increase her heart rate, it’s essentially an adrenaline shot and will prevent any severe reaction to what I am about to do to her.”
Red nodded, but the expression on her pretty face told me that she didn’t really comprehend what was happening.
I inserted the syringe into the vial and filled it with the liquid. With a kind of ironic caution, given what I was planning on doing, I slipped the needle deep, but carefully, into the girl’s thigh and fed the epinephrine feed into her body.
I attached a small clip-monitor to a flap of skin from under her left arm, and activated it via Bluetooth on my phone. That way I could monitor her heart rate and blood flow, and I had set the notifications such that if dangerous levels and rates of either were reached I would be warned.
Now we were ready!
Taking out the cordless power drill and two, large eight-inch screws I moved back to the tree.
“Hold the wood steady Red,” I ordered as I placed one of the screws at the pre-drilled holes by the slut’s head. Flicking the switch, I screwed the wooden patibulum into the tough old bark, and then repeated the action with a second screw just a couple of inches to the first screw’s side.
“You can let go now,” I instructed the friend. She did to reveal the solid patibulum, now held firmly in place.
Glancing at my phone app I watched as my Little Girl’s heart rate began to increase as her fate got nearer. I smiled at the reaction … it told me how scared she was becoming.
“How are you feeling girl?” I asked the obtuse question.
“C … cold …” she answered.
“And scared Little Girl? Maybe terrified?”
She nodded and added, simply “Very …”
My cock began to stiffen.
“Okay Red, now I want you to move to the tree and my Little Girl will open her legs for you. You will use your fingers to bring her onto the edge of her climax. When she is there you will take her over that edge and while she is in the throes of her orgasm, I will hammer this nail through her right palm.”
“What?” Red replied as I took a vintage three-inch nail out of the small container in which they had already been sterilised.
“You heard me.”
“But … but … won’t she bleed too much?” Red was searching for reasons to delay.
“Not with the rawhide so tight around her wrist and shoulders acting as a tourniquet. The blood flow and loss will be minimal.”
Nodding, Red moved to her friend, and with a solitary glance upwards into her face she began to ease my Little Girl’s thighs apart as she stood on the stool, so that she could massage her clit.
“Is the slut already wet?” I asked.
“A little,” Red replied. I chuckled.
Slowly, and very expertly, the friend’s fingers worked their magic and from my close proximity I could see how slick my slut was becoming, I could hear the wet movements as several fingers were now deep inside her body.
I took up my position, the point of the crudely shaped nail pressed firmly against the open palm, and I waited for my Little Girl to begin the trembling, convulsive process that signalled the onrush of her orgasm.
“Keep going Red, take her there, go on, make her cum.”
And she did. My Little Girl's body tensed and her thighs began to close around her friend's invasive fingers, as I looked sideways at the slut's open mouth, clearly unable to make an audible gasp until the climax that was consuming all of her bodily resources allowed such a sound to be released.
And soon it came. The guttural groan, long and loud, feral-like from deep within her body.
Then I hammered hard!
The pain was instantaneous. A flash of white agony burned through her … I knew that because it manifested totally in her eyes, which were now wide open, as her body battled with the conflicting sensations of her continuing climax and the most unbelievable pain she would have ever experienced.
Her head snapped clear of the wood as it fell forward before banging back onto the hard cross-beam. My Little Girl’s back arched and her stomach pushed against my weight before her.
Then, as Red stepped away – her work now done, my hands suddenly were on the slut’s breasts once more pushing her against the tree, mauling her. She was shrieking, mad, short bursts as her tensed body refused to take in air.
I moved to the other side of the tree, and once more the chink of the hammer sounded on the nail again. I felt the reverberation as I held her forearm, felt the new burst of pain ravish her nubile form.
She was banging her head on the cross-beam as the hammer came down again. Eyes now closed, she bucked and retched, awful animalistic sounds rasping from her throat and when her eyes opened again, she saw me, her torturer, grinning.
Two more blows and it was done, her left wrist pinned forever to the wood, in the same way as her right wrist.
My Little Girl looked disbelievingly along the wood to her hands, first to the left and then to the right, fingers now hooked into a claw, the head of the nail protruding.
Red stood by her side looking away.
“Look at her,” I commanded. “Look how beautiful she is, nailed to the wood. Do you want to be her?”
The question had to remain rhetorical because Red was in no position to answer, but she did however, between sobs, take a good long look at her naked, bound and nailed friend.
I checked the phone app and smiled. Heart rate was up high signalling her fear … blood loss was, as expected, minimal.
The slut was shaking. Sobbing, crying as red rivulets of what blood there was oozed out of her hand to run down the length of her arm and drip onto the ground. She clenched her teeth. Her breathing was so hard that she was blowing out small gobbets of spittle, to run down her face, mixed with more, thick snot from her nose.
Now it was time to mount her properly.
