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Journey of a Pain Slut ...
Peony
Magistrate
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 3 Chapter 30
Tying me. Feet and so-sore wrists. To the bed. So l look down over my tits at the mark he's made on me.
I know what it is. He's used it before. I know how he uses it. On my cunt. I know how much it hurts. I know how much I will scream.
Her mouth over mine. Her tongue smothering my cries. Fuck I love her. Fuck I love the way he hurts me. It fucking hurts!
He's in me. Like I don't know who he is. Just his cock. In me. Hard. Fucking me. Like he doesn't care. Just needs to shoot.
She kisses me.
Fuck we're so fucking beautiful.
He goes.
She unties me. We make a coffee and sit there. On the bed. Naked. Marked.
I'm so fucking lucky to know this beautiful, painted, whipped girl.
I fucking love her.
I tell her.
She asks what I'm going to do.
Am I going back to the BF.
I look at my messed up hands.
I look at her sweet sexy eyes.
I tell her.
I say that I want to stay with her.
She smiles.
She kisses me.
I love her so much.
We talk about the woods. About what we've done. How no-one would ever believe us.
I look at the marks on my wrists and hands.
They'll go. She says. She kisses my hands.
I want you too she says.
We talk about what we'll do. Her in N-town, me in my town. We can work it out.
We talk about him. We can work it out.
We snuggle so softly. Kiss so softly. He'll never be able to do this. I stroke the lovely red hair from her eyes. I kiss the marks on her back.
Time to go.
In his car. To the station. Just two girls. With a guy who could be their father or their uncle. Taking them to the station. Saying goodbye.
"Message me" he says.
We have to run.
I smile at him. Then we both run to the platform. Like the girls we are. Laughing.
No-one fucking knows but us.
We are so fucking lucky.
We get on the train. Slump on a seat. Arms around each other. Just two lezzie girls. No-one cares. We laugh. We kiss. We kiss again.
Tying me. Feet and so-sore wrists. To the bed. So l look down over my tits at the mark he's made on me.
I know what it is. He's used it before. I know how he uses it. On my cunt. I know how much it hurts. I know how much I will scream.
Her mouth over mine. Her tongue smothering my cries. Fuck I love her. Fuck I love the way he hurts me. It fucking hurts!
He's in me. Like I don't know who he is. Just his cock. In me. Hard. Fucking me. Like he doesn't care. Just needs to shoot.
She kisses me.
Fuck we're so fucking beautiful.
He goes.
She unties me. We make a coffee and sit there. On the bed. Naked. Marked.
I'm so fucking lucky to know this beautiful, painted, whipped girl.
I fucking love her.
I tell her.
She asks what I'm going to do.
Am I going back to the BF.
I look at my messed up hands.
I look at her sweet sexy eyes.
I tell her.
I say that I want to stay with her.
She smiles.
She kisses me.
I love her so much.
We talk about the woods. About what we've done. How no-one would ever believe us.
I look at the marks on my wrists and hands.
They'll go. She says. She kisses my hands.
I want you too she says.
We talk about what we'll do. Her in N-town, me in my town. We can work it out.
We talk about him. We can work it out.
We snuggle so softly. Kiss so softly. He'll never be able to do this. I stroke the lovely red hair from her eyes. I kiss the marks on her back.
Time to go.
In his car. To the station. Just two girls. With a guy who could be their father or their uncle. Taking them to the station. Saying goodbye.
"Message me" he says.
We have to run.
I smile at him. Then we both run to the platform. Like the girls we are. Laughing.
No-one fucking knows but us.
We are so fucking lucky.
We get on the train. Slump on a seat. Arms around each other. Just two lezzie girls. No-one cares. We laugh. We kiss. We kiss again.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
And so the incredibly delicious but not so innocent @Peony and I bring Act 3 to a close. There will be a new Act and Act 4 will commence in a couple of days, once we have all paused for breath. Thank you to everyone who reads our work, and an even bigger thanks to those who "Like/Love" it. Your support is greatly appreciated.
In the meantime you can find the full Act 3 story with pictures in the CF Archive here - http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resources/journey-of-a-pain-slut-3-by-fossy-and-peony.758/
In the meantime you can find the full Act 3 story with pictures in the CF Archive here - http://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resources/journey-of-a-pain-slut-3-by-fossy-and-peony.758/
Last edited:
nicole
Tribune
I'm looking forward to Act 4, I downloaded Act 3, it's a great story, thanks again
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
There is a long way to go yet doughboy. If you enjoyed the story would you mind 'liking' the chapters please
thank you.
Last edited:
nicole
Tribune
yeeeeessss, well noted, we look forward
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT ACT 4 BEGINS TODAY ...
Thank you to everyone who has stayed with us this far. There is much further to go, so please stick with our journey and you will not be disappointed. @Peony and I love feedback as much as we adore 'likes and loves' for our chapters. So if you have anything to ask/say/suggest then please, please do so!
We also crave readers. Good people who share the desire and wish to be a part of what we are doing. So please, please ... please, share the link to this thread and let's get even more people adding to the sexual tension that we are constantly attempting to create, my young Pain Slut and I ...
So,the time is here. Please sit back, and get ready for Act 4 ... enjoy the show!
Thank you to everyone who has stayed with us this far. There is much further to go, so please stick with our journey and you will not be disappointed. @Peony and I love feedback as much as we adore 'likes and loves' for our chapters. So if you have anything to ask/say/suggest then please, please do so!
We also crave readers. Good people who share the desire and wish to be a part of what we are doing. So please, please ... please, share the link to this thread and let's get even more people adding to the sexual tension that we are constantly attempting to create, my young Pain Slut and I ...
So,the time is here. Please sit back, and get ready for Act 4 ... enjoy the show!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 4 Chapter 1
“How was your day love?” I made a point of calling my wife. It was Monday, a whole day since I saw my Little Girl at Leeds Station. We had our thing my slut and I, and that ‘thing’ was supposed to draw the boundaries and define what it was that we had, and where it was we had it, but if I was being honest I just could not get her out of my head.
Even during the waking moments with my eyes open I ‘saw’ her … on the cross, tied to the bed, in the throes of orgasm, her arms around my neck whispering ‘thank you.’
Fuck!
It was a real blessing that my wife was at her sisters, because I only had to pretend to be interested in what she was doing for a few minutes on the phone … and she would be gone until Friday.
“Hi darling, oh we had a brilliant day, thank you for asking. Sis had invited the local councillors and dignitaries to the opening of her new flower shop and we actually started the day with bucks fizz,” she chuckled.
“Oh, how decadent,” I chuckled back.
Fucking decadent, a glass of weak champagne diluted with fizzy juice … fuck me. I had crucified someone this weekend and hammered nails through their flesh … that’s fucking decadent!
“When are you back in theatre love?” She asked.
“Tomorrow, at the hospital. NHS trauma surgery, car crash victim to start with.”
There was a pause before my wife spoke. “Oh, my darling the work you do is so special, you and your colleagues should be knighted, and here’s me droning on about opening a new flower shop …”
“Which is hugely important honey. Where flowers grow, hope blooms, is what they say, isn’t it? We all need flowers hon, so you keep doing what you’re doing, and stay as long as she needs you. I’m fine here.”
“Oh, darling you are so understanding, whatever did I do to deserve you …”
Fuck, if only you knew, I thought.
“Not at all honey, I’m the lucky one. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you. Night night.”
And with that the call was done and I could get back to wanking my erect cock to thoughts of my Little Girl and her friend, naked in the woods, being tortured, and beaten … fucked.
I lay back naked on the bed, my 58-year-old body bearing up well, but if my wife could have seen me … good job it wasn’t a fucking video call that we had just shared!
My hands moved faster, my fingers massaging knowingly, applying pressure underneath the swollen head, and I soon came, my back arching, spurts of my seed arcing high to fall across my abdomen and thighs. I lay back gasping, physically satiated but even my self-induced climax could not remove the vision of that fucking gorgeous little slut from my head!
******
I needed to sleep. The weekend had been exhausting, and so fucking exhilarating … but I was operating tomorrow and needed to rest. Except my mind was working overtime. I couldn’t stop thinking of what we had done … of Red, her flame-haired friend and my beautiful slut, two pain-stimulated concubines whose names I did not know, but who were consuming my every waking thought.
With the Chinese Take Away opened out in the spacious and airy day room, and my beer opened, I flicked the MacBook browser to watch porn. It was easy to imagine my Little Girl in these situations. Fuck yes. Taken in a basement, secured behind piping, legs spread as wide as they could go, mounted on a phallus … like being crucified only different … and without nails.
Having selected my choice, I watched the link url appear in my web page …
http://gobdsm.com/videos/tia-ling-fixed-on-the-wall-with-a-fucking-machine-between-her-legs/
And as it started, in my mind’s eye, the model was my Little Girl. Crying out as she was secured into position, then whipped, pegged and penetrated before being relentlessly fucked …
Fuck … I needed her so much. I had jerked off three times already since waking this morning and now I was hard again.
I paused the video and closed my eyes. What would it be like actually taking her out … maybe for dinner? You know, having her on my arm as my date … I laughed at the thought of me using the word ‘date’ and how non contemporary that would sound to her young ears.
I wondered how things had gone with the BF and if Red was now on the scene more formally as her lover.
In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about her for as second, she was plaguing me with her sweet images … I could hear her voice, see the orgasm in her lovely face, feel her tremble as I fucked her.
I needed her so badly.
I switched the video back on and watched as the submissive Asian model was dominated and used and then, once my take out dinner was finished, I wanked … again … and once more it was the sweet Little Pain Slut that brought me my welcome relief.
As my gasps settled and the residual sperm had dried into my pile of tissues, I took out my phone. Swiping to the contact called only ‘LG’ – Little Girl. I read the texts she had sent me previously. The one during the Christmas Break asking how I was, and then several reporting on their progress, hers and Red’s, as they made their way across the Pennines last weekend.
And then I began to type.
“Hey Little Girl how are you? How’s things with Red? How’s things with the BF? I miss you, a lot. A fucking lot. When can we meet again xxx”
I looked at the words. Re-read my message. Damn how I wanted her … needed her even. She would be my undoing this Little Girl with the pain fetish … and there was nothing I could do about it.
My finger hovered over the SEND button … but I didn’t send. I deleted every last character. My slut needed a little more time away from me …
“How was your day love?” I made a point of calling my wife. It was Monday, a whole day since I saw my Little Girl at Leeds Station. We had our thing my slut and I, and that ‘thing’ was supposed to draw the boundaries and define what it was that we had, and where it was we had it, but if I was being honest I just could not get her out of my head.
Even during the waking moments with my eyes open I ‘saw’ her … on the cross, tied to the bed, in the throes of orgasm, her arms around my neck whispering ‘thank you.’
Fuck!
It was a real blessing that my wife was at her sisters, because I only had to pretend to be interested in what she was doing for a few minutes on the phone … and she would be gone until Friday.
“Hi darling, oh we had a brilliant day, thank you for asking. Sis had invited the local councillors and dignitaries to the opening of her new flower shop and we actually started the day with bucks fizz,” she chuckled.
“Oh, how decadent,” I chuckled back.
Fucking decadent, a glass of weak champagne diluted with fizzy juice … fuck me. I had crucified someone this weekend and hammered nails through their flesh … that’s fucking decadent!
“When are you back in theatre love?” She asked.
“Tomorrow, at the hospital. NHS trauma surgery, car crash victim to start with.”
There was a pause before my wife spoke. “Oh, my darling the work you do is so special, you and your colleagues should be knighted, and here’s me droning on about opening a new flower shop …”
“Which is hugely important honey. Where flowers grow, hope blooms, is what they say, isn’t it? We all need flowers hon, so you keep doing what you’re doing, and stay as long as she needs you. I’m fine here.”
“Oh, darling you are so understanding, whatever did I do to deserve you …”
Fuck, if only you knew, I thought.
“Not at all honey, I’m the lucky one. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you. Night night.”
And with that the call was done and I could get back to wanking my erect cock to thoughts of my Little Girl and her friend, naked in the woods, being tortured, and beaten … fucked.
I lay back naked on the bed, my 58-year-old body bearing up well, but if my wife could have seen me … good job it wasn’t a fucking video call that we had just shared!
My hands moved faster, my fingers massaging knowingly, applying pressure underneath the swollen head, and I soon came, my back arching, spurts of my seed arcing high to fall across my abdomen and thighs. I lay back gasping, physically satiated but even my self-induced climax could not remove the vision of that fucking gorgeous little slut from my head!
******
I needed to sleep. The weekend had been exhausting, and so fucking exhilarating … but I was operating tomorrow and needed to rest. Except my mind was working overtime. I couldn’t stop thinking of what we had done … of Red, her flame-haired friend and my beautiful slut, two pain-stimulated concubines whose names I did not know, but who were consuming my every waking thought.
With the Chinese Take Away opened out in the spacious and airy day room, and my beer opened, I flicked the MacBook browser to watch porn. It was easy to imagine my Little Girl in these situations. Fuck yes. Taken in a basement, secured behind piping, legs spread as wide as they could go, mounted on a phallus … like being crucified only different … and without nails.
Having selected my choice, I watched the link url appear in my web page …
http://gobdsm.com/videos/tia-ling-fixed-on-the-wall-with-a-fucking-machine-between-her-legs/
And as it started, in my mind’s eye, the model was my Little Girl. Crying out as she was secured into position, then whipped, pegged and penetrated before being relentlessly fucked …
Fuck … I needed her so much. I had jerked off three times already since waking this morning and now I was hard again.
I paused the video and closed my eyes. What would it be like actually taking her out … maybe for dinner? You know, having her on my arm as my date … I laughed at the thought of me using the word ‘date’ and how non contemporary that would sound to her young ears.
I wondered how things had gone with the BF and if Red was now on the scene more formally as her lover.
In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about her for as second, she was plaguing me with her sweet images … I could hear her voice, see the orgasm in her lovely face, feel her tremble as I fucked her.
I needed her so badly.
I switched the video back on and watched as the submissive Asian model was dominated and used and then, once my take out dinner was finished, I wanked … again … and once more it was the sweet Little Pain Slut that brought me my welcome relief.
As my gasps settled and the residual sperm had dried into my pile of tissues, I took out my phone. Swiping to the contact called only ‘LG’ – Little Girl. I read the texts she had sent me previously. The one during the Christmas Break asking how I was, and then several reporting on their progress, hers and Red’s, as they made their way across the Pennines last weekend.
And then I began to type.
“Hey Little Girl how are you? How’s things with Red? How’s things with the BF? I miss you, a lot. A fucking lot. When can we meet again xxx”
I looked at the words. Re-read my message. Damn how I wanted her … needed her even. She would be my undoing this Little Girl with the pain fetish … and there was nothing I could do about it.
My finger hovered over the SEND button … but I didn’t send. I deleted every last character. My slut needed a little more time away from me …
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
I'm glad you're not operating on me this morning!
Even if you manage the op, there is still the possible headline.........
TOP SURGEON IN WOODLAND SADIST TRYST
..........then what would the General Medical Council say?
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Imagine ... But like I said Old Slave ... I hope not, but I fear that this little pain slut will be my undoing ...
Peony
Magistrate
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 4 Chapter 2
Shitty journey. It always is. Useless Northern Rail. Shitty weather. Over the Pennines. Shitty.
But good to be home.
Unlock the door. Climb the stairs. Open my door. Fall on the bed. With her. Kiss her. Home.
I know I have to. Phone him.
Not in.
Text. How are you?
Kiss her again. Sleep a bit. My fucking hands still hurt so much. A glass of water and too many paracetemols.
Ping. Text. Him.
Better. How are you? Drinks? In the pub tonight?
Kiss her. Kiss her. Tits out together. Kiss her. Love her. Tell her.
Text back. Yeah. Abi will come too. OK. Seven thirty?
Our fave pub. Down in D'bury. Three beers.
So, you ok?
Shit!
What the fuck have you done to your hands?
Look at my bandaged hands.
Stuff, I say. Stuff.
Fuck, he says.
Sip on our beers.
Her hand in my lap, stroking me.
He looks at us. We smile at each other.
So... well...
Yeah...
So...?
So... I love you still, but...
You and her?
Yeah.
So that's it then?
Well...
So that's it.
I say nothing.
He says nothing. Kisses me on the lips. Stands. Leaves.
That fucking easy.
Order another drink each. Cuddle. Kiss her. Fucking love her.
Fancy a curry?
Yeah... cool.
Let's fuck off down the Mile then.
That easy. Poor thing. I'm a fucking bastard. But I fucking love Abi.
And a nice hot curry. And a beer. And fuck my fucking hands hurt so fucking much.
And we'll have tonight together in my little cosy room before she has to head to N'town. And she'll be back next Friday. Yeah.
But first a nice curry and a lager and a kiss in the rain.
Shitty journey. It always is. Useless Northern Rail. Shitty weather. Over the Pennines. Shitty.
But good to be home.
Unlock the door. Climb the stairs. Open my door. Fall on the bed. With her. Kiss her. Home.
I know I have to. Phone him.
Not in.
Text. How are you?
Kiss her again. Sleep a bit. My fucking hands still hurt so much. A glass of water and too many paracetemols.
Ping. Text. Him.
Better. How are you? Drinks? In the pub tonight?
Kiss her. Kiss her. Tits out together. Kiss her. Love her. Tell her.
Text back. Yeah. Abi will come too. OK. Seven thirty?
Our fave pub. Down in D'bury. Three beers.
So, you ok?
Shit!
What the fuck have you done to your hands?
Look at my bandaged hands.
Stuff, I say. Stuff.
Fuck, he says.
Sip on our beers.
Her hand in my lap, stroking me.
He looks at us. We smile at each other.
So... well...
Yeah...
So...?
So... I love you still, but...
You and her?
Yeah.
So that's it then?
Well...
So that's it.
I say nothing.
He says nothing. Kisses me on the lips. Stands. Leaves.
That fucking easy.
Order another drink each. Cuddle. Kiss her. Fucking love her.
Fancy a curry?
Yeah... cool.
Let's fuck off down the Mile then.
That easy. Poor thing. I'm a fucking bastard. But I fucking love Abi.
And a nice hot curry. And a beer. And fuck my fucking hands hurt so fucking much.
And we'll have tonight together in my little cosy room before she has to head to N'town. And she'll be back next Friday. Yeah.
But first a nice curry and a lager and a kiss in the rain.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 4 Chapter 3
I watched my Little Girl cry out. For the first time in our short relationship I saw her looking really, really scared. Frightened to the point of terror, and in her terrorised state she was crying out, begging for mercy … but none was to be given.
Her face was slapped, hard … time and time again until tears poured down her cheeks and her eyes blackened from the cheap makeup that she wore.
Is this what she really wanted? What WE really wanted?
For her to be beaten and used by another man, a large overbearing man, who would whip her and hurt her while I watched …
Had we progressed to this already? Was my Little girl now no more than a slutty porn addict, whose sole purpose in life was to be used, not just by me, but by anyone and everyone …
The man, his name restricted to a short icon like label … ‘The Pope’, he was called by those who knew him, and although we did not know him, he had been easy enough to get to when we wanted him and showed him the money.
I had said before that I considered myself a moderately religious man, but these days I found myself blaspheming somewhat effortlessly. A crucifix in the woods, a bondage Dom called ‘The Pope’ …
He had a chain around her neck, a thick linked chain and it was padlocked tight against her throat as she lay back over a flat surface, her tight, nubile body naked.
Again, she cried out as the whip fell hard across her breasts, firm mounds that seemed somehow to be miraculously healed from the previous gatherings, in fact not a blemish stained them.
“Please!” she begged with a plaintiff cry, but all she received was a harsh slap across the face.
“You can jerk off if you want,” The Pope spoke directly at me in his American drawl, as I stood to the side watching this explicit scene of graphic torture porn unfold before me …
So, I did. With my cock hard and aching in my hand I slipped it out and began to wank for all I was worth, not caring about who could see me.
“Top Surgeon in Torture Porn scandal …” the words, sensational in their linkage, kept on playing in my head, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop this … it was what we wanted. It WAS … wasn’t it?
Fuck, I was so damn hard and my knowing fingers were rapidly bringing my climax on.
I watched as my Little Girl’s head was covered by a bag. I knew what he had planned, and so did she. Now she really began to struggle.
“Release … Releeeeease … RELEASE!!!” She cried out the safe-word that The Pope had agreed with her.
“Fuck that,” he growled back at her. We have no safe words here, and her groan of anguish was lost inside the material of the bag.
Her naked body writhed in fearful anticipation as the man, large and foreboding in his appearance, began to pour water onto her face, laughing as he did so … she convulsed in movements that were infused with an ever-increasing desperation. The bag was pulled back so we could see her pretty face covered in a sheen of glistening wetness, contorted with the agonies of her terror, before he quickly covered her back up, capturing her efforts to breathe, so he could ‘drown’ her all over again …
“Cum if you want,” he looked over at me, his gaze focusing on my cock, “Come over here and explode on her tits while I do this, I’m gonna make her pass out … make her think she’s dying … you know that’s what she wants … what she wants … what she wants …”
His repeated words echoed with his laughter … and then …
“Fuck!” I woke with a start. Sitting up in my bed, gasping for breath I flopped back down onto the duvet.
“Fuck …” I repeated. Then I realised that my fingers were wound round my erection. It had seemed so real, the dream … so fucking real.
I groaned and glanced at the time. It was only 5am … I was exhausted.
Fleetingly I thought of my wife, but only to thank the stars that she was still at her sisters and would be for a few more days yet. I closed my eyes and my thoughts turned to my Little Girl. How I wished she was here in bed next to me, so that I could pull her into my body, hold her, cuddle her, kiss her, fuck her …
Man, I was feeling tired …
The first day back in theatre following a holiday break was always a trial of effort, with extra determination to concentrate and focus being required, and this time, with my potential for mental distraction being even greater, the energy required was even more burdensome!
But I only had a 10am clinic at the local BUPA hospital today and that was it. Two hours of easy discussion and surgical planning, and that was it. I then had the rest of the day to plot and plan and masturbate to my favourite Little Girl …
The bag … the water … the agony and the pain …
The Pope was a well-known BDSM Dominant, who I had seen ‘perform’ on his porn models many times online, how and why-the-fuck he had suddenly appeared in my dreams I had no idea.
But I was delighted that he had because now I knew exactly what I would be doing with my Little Pain Slut the next time we met!
Once my clinic was over I would be researching the fuck out of ‘Waterboarding’ …
I watched my Little Girl cry out. For the first time in our short relationship I saw her looking really, really scared. Frightened to the point of terror, and in her terrorised state she was crying out, begging for mercy … but none was to be given.
Her face was slapped, hard … time and time again until tears poured down her cheeks and her eyes blackened from the cheap makeup that she wore.
Is this what she really wanted? What WE really wanted?
For her to be beaten and used by another man, a large overbearing man, who would whip her and hurt her while I watched …
Had we progressed to this already? Was my Little girl now no more than a slutty porn addict, whose sole purpose in life was to be used, not just by me, but by anyone and everyone …
The man, his name restricted to a short icon like label … ‘The Pope’, he was called by those who knew him, and although we did not know him, he had been easy enough to get to when we wanted him and showed him the money.
I had said before that I considered myself a moderately religious man, but these days I found myself blaspheming somewhat effortlessly. A crucifix in the woods, a bondage Dom called ‘The Pope’ …
He had a chain around her neck, a thick linked chain and it was padlocked tight against her throat as she lay back over a flat surface, her tight, nubile body naked.
Again, she cried out as the whip fell hard across her breasts, firm mounds that seemed somehow to be miraculously healed from the previous gatherings, in fact not a blemish stained them.
“Please!” she begged with a plaintiff cry, but all she received was a harsh slap across the face.
“You can jerk off if you want,” The Pope spoke directly at me in his American drawl, as I stood to the side watching this explicit scene of graphic torture porn unfold before me …
So, I did. With my cock hard and aching in my hand I slipped it out and began to wank for all I was worth, not caring about who could see me.
“Top Surgeon in Torture Porn scandal …” the words, sensational in their linkage, kept on playing in my head, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop this … it was what we wanted. It WAS … wasn’t it?
Fuck, I was so damn hard and my knowing fingers were rapidly bringing my climax on.
I watched as my Little Girl’s head was covered by a bag. I knew what he had planned, and so did she. Now she really began to struggle.
“Release … Releeeeease … RELEASE!!!” She cried out the safe-word that The Pope had agreed with her.
“Fuck that,” he growled back at her. We have no safe words here, and her groan of anguish was lost inside the material of the bag.
Her naked body writhed in fearful anticipation as the man, large and foreboding in his appearance, began to pour water onto her face, laughing as he did so … she convulsed in movements that were infused with an ever-increasing desperation. The bag was pulled back so we could see her pretty face covered in a sheen of glistening wetness, contorted with the agonies of her terror, before he quickly covered her back up, capturing her efforts to breathe, so he could ‘drown’ her all over again …
“Cum if you want,” he looked over at me, his gaze focusing on my cock, “Come over here and explode on her tits while I do this, I’m gonna make her pass out … make her think she’s dying … you know that’s what she wants … what she wants … what she wants …”
His repeated words echoed with his laughter … and then …
“Fuck!” I woke with a start. Sitting up in my bed, gasping for breath I flopped back down onto the duvet.
“Fuck …” I repeated. Then I realised that my fingers were wound round my erection. It had seemed so real, the dream … so fucking real.
I groaned and glanced at the time. It was only 5am … I was exhausted.
Fleetingly I thought of my wife, but only to thank the stars that she was still at her sisters and would be for a few more days yet. I closed my eyes and my thoughts turned to my Little Girl. How I wished she was here in bed next to me, so that I could pull her into my body, hold her, cuddle her, kiss her, fuck her …
Man, I was feeling tired …
The first day back in theatre following a holiday break was always a trial of effort, with extra determination to concentrate and focus being required, and this time, with my potential for mental distraction being even greater, the energy required was even more burdensome!
But I only had a 10am clinic at the local BUPA hospital today and that was it. Two hours of easy discussion and surgical planning, and that was it. I then had the rest of the day to plot and plan and masturbate to my favourite Little Girl …
The bag … the water … the agony and the pain …
The Pope was a well-known BDSM Dominant, who I had seen ‘perform’ on his porn models many times online, how and why-the-fuck he had suddenly appeared in my dreams I had no idea.
But I was delighted that he had because now I knew exactly what I would be doing with my Little Pain Slut the next time we met!
Once my clinic was over I would be researching the fuck out of ‘Waterboarding’ …
oranges
Assistant executioner
Waterboarding, yes the connotations are so erotic, that fine line between is it torture or isn't it, the nudity the almost consensual nature of the whole scene, the glistening women laid out, the covered face reminiscent of the hood, the sheer subtlety of the torture which, unlike many other forms, can be graduated in its intensity and longevity, the sheer panic of the victim who suffers more form the mental anguish than the more usual physical. And I could go on !
Marvellous plot, cannot wait for the next chapter
Marvellous plot, cannot wait for the next chapter