ralmcg
Governor
Love her backside being shown.
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various own work - perils
- Thread starter thecuriousone
- Start date
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
Sweet Jesus that was incredibly hot! I guess I should have gone to engineering school too!I have been working on a short story with a pic that belongs to the story.
Isabella and the whipmachine
Of all the students that got the engineering degree in the class of 2019, all were male except one. The woman, named Isabella, has chosen this line of profession for more than the usual reasons. She had always been fascinated by the idea of bondage and torture. She spent hours reading books and researching online about different methods and devices used throughout history. She never dared to tell any of her occasional dates about her fantasies, too shy for that, and too scared that her reputation would be ruined. But she wanted to take it to the next level, to create something that would truly test the limits of pain and pleasure.
She landed a job that paid good enough to afford her own place, and bought an old house on the edge of town with a large cellar. Once she was settled in, she started converting her cellar into a workshop.
After months of planning and gathering materials, Isabella finally completed her bondage machine. It was a large metal standing frame with restraints for the arms, legs, and neck, as well as a whip attached to a motorized arm that could strike with various strength and at various levels. She had carefully programmed the machine to be able to follow various protocols. For the first real test, she planned to set it to start off slow and gradually increase in speed and intensity, ensuring that the person being whipped would experience a steadily increase level of pain. She set up cameras to record the test.
Despite her extensive preparations, Isabella trembled with anticipation on the day of the real live test, as she opened the door to her dingy basement. The inside had been transformed into a dimly lit chamber, with soft whispers and moans echoing through the cold, damp air. Excited to test out her creation, Isabella stripped down and placed her body onto the frame of the machine. She positioned her arms, legs and neck in line with the automatic cuffs, ready for the 20 minutes test run. A quick glance at the screen of the controller to confirm the correct settings. Then she eagerly pressed the start button, anticipating the intense mixture of pain and pleasure she was about to feel. Click click click and the cuffs sealed around her limbs. Five seconds later the electric hoist switched on and the entire frame, with her strapped on it, was lifted in the air. She held her breath and braced herself as the whipping arm moved backward for the first strike.
Isabella closed her eyes, steeling herself for the first slap of the leather against her skin. As the whip connected with her back, she yelped in pain, her body arching in response. With twenty second intervals, the motorized arm rhythmically swung back and forth, sometimes as high as just below her neck, sometimes as low as her upper legs. Isabella felt her pussy getting moist, as the whipping arm began to steadily increase speed as the intensity of the painful stings grew.
She could hardly breathe, her heart pounding in her chest. The pain was overwhelming, yet somehow it only heightened her arousal. Each stroke sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her, as though she were a creature of pure sensation.
The machine's programming grew increasingly brutal, and Isabella knew that soon she would be unable to withstand the agony. But still, she craved more. Her mind was a whirlwind of desire and pain, her body screaming for release. Then the long anticipated orgasm struck her. Exhausted, she looked at the timer. Only three minutes left before the whip would stop and the restraints would automatically open. About time, her back was really sore.
Then murphy's law entered the game. An undetected bug in the programmming played it's card. The machine malfunctioned, its circuits overloaded and causing it to go into overdrive. The timer stopped at 2.52 but the whip did not stop. Instead, it began to move at an alarming speed, whipping Isabella's back with a force she had never imagined. The pain was excruciating, and she screamed in agony as the whip tore through her skin and flesh.
In the midst of the chaos, Isabella's eyes widened in terror as the machine continued its relentless assault. Against all odds, she tried to yank herself free from the restraints, but her body was immobile and bound so tightly that she could barely move a finger. She screamed for help, her pleas only echoing through the cold, damp basement.
The machine's programming seemed to have reached its maximum setting, the whip striking her relentlessly. The pain was unimaginable, and Isabella's mind raced with fear and desperation. Despite the pain, orgasm after orgasm hit her. She could feel her skin being torn apart, the texture of her back becoming raw and bleeding. Her cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, replaced by the sound of the whip continuing its brutal dance.
Desperately, Isabella pulled to free herself from the restraints again and again, but they were too strong, designed to be inescapeable. She was trapped, at the mercy of her own creation. The whipping continued for hours, each strike more brutal than the last. Isabella's screams turned into gurgles as her back, ass and upper legs became a bloody mess, the skin and flesh ripped away by the relentless whipping.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, something burned through. The machine came to a stop. Isabella's body hung limply in the restraints, her back nothing but a raw, bloody mass exposing her ribs. The pain was unbearable, but she couldn't even scream anymore. She was dying.
Isabella's mind raced with the realization of her fate. She had created a monster, a machine that had malfunctioned and taken her life. Her last thoughts were of the pain mixed with the orgasms, the agony she had experienced and the nightmare she had unleashed upon herself.
In the basement, her soft whispers and moans had stopped. The cold, damp air was now still and silent. Isabella's body swung gently in the restraints as her life slipped away, her once vibrant eyes now lifeless, reflecting the dim lighting.
And so, the bondage machine stood there, its purpose fulfilled in the most horrifying way possible. Isabella's creation had pushed her beyond the limits of pain and pleasure, into a realm of unimaginable torture and death.
She had been tortured to death by her own creation.
Weeks later, her decaying body was discovered.
Detectives were assigned to inspect the scene, their faces etched with a mix of horror and disgust. They carefully documented every detail, documenting the grisly remains of Isabella's lifeless body and the remnants of the machine that had taken her life
As the police investigated Isabella's death, they found her journals and notes about the bondage machine. They also viewed the footageof her cameras, showing a gruesome event that resembled the plot of a snuff film. They were horrified by the level of detail and planning that had gone into it. It became clear that Isabella had intended to use it for only a short session, to get a moderate mild whipping without leaving scars.
They noted the signs of agony and pain that had consumed her, etched into her skin and etched into the machine that had been her final undoing.
Her own twisted creation had turned on her, and she had paid the ultimate price for her obsession with pain and pleasure.
Hmm, maybe she should have gone to computer programming school first?
thecuriousone
Governor
A sweet comment like this makes my day a lot more beautiful.Sweet Jesus that was incredibly hot! I guess I should have gone to engineering school too!
Hmm, maybe she should have gone to computer programming school first?
thecuriousone
Governor
I got a story again.
The iron maiden experience.
I made my final preparations that week. I quit my job, and told everybody that I would travel through Europe for the next 3 months. I locked my door, switched off the lights, undressed and lifted the concrete slab that was covering the entrance to my personal dungeon. With a loud slam the concrete slab closed itself behind me. Step by step I went down, knowing this would be my final descent.
Once down, I sat myself down on a stool in front of a mirror. I put a jaw stretching penis gag in my mouth, while admiring my body one last time. Soon it would be mutilated.
As I placed myself inside the iron maiden, I could feel the excitement and anticipation building within me. I realised that this would be my last chance to change my mind. I could live if I wanted. But like a moth being drawn to a flame, I placed my neck, ankles and wrists in the open restraints. Then I stretched my finger and pushed the activation button.
How I got to this point? That's a strange story.
Throughout my life, many have told methat I am a beautiful woman, considered a turn on by many, with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes. I had a succesful job, was loved by my co workers and although most of the time I was single, I had pleasant boyfriends that enlighted my life from time to time. What most people didn't know is that I always have been drawn to the world of BDSM, finding pleasure in the pain and submission. My partners took part in those games, dominating me to give me the pleasure I desired through submission, restraint and pain. But my secret desires went way beyond what most would consider extreme. I wanted to push the limits, to experience the ultimate release in the most intense way possible. That scared my lovers eventually away again and again.
But my life was not all pleasure. What I hid from the outer world is that I suffered from depressions, and it took me over from time to time. It could be a dangerous and dark place, one that dove me to do things I never thought possible. And that's how I came to plan my own spectacular suicide.
It all began when I discovered a secret underground bomb shelter in the cellar under the old house that I had inherited from my aunt. I had been searching for a way to fulfill my fantasies in a safe and secluded place, and this room was my ticket. I spent months designing and constructing my own personal dungeon, without anybody knowing. It was equipped with all the tools and devices I needed to satisfy my needs.
One night, as I was lying in my bed, lost in my thoughts and consumed by my depression, an idea struck me like lightning. I would build an iron maiden, a torture device used in medieval times, but with modern twists. It would be my final release, and I would build it myself. I had always dreamt of iron maidens in my darkest dreams, over time the desire to actually die in one by my own hand got stronger and stronger. Eventually I got to the point that I resolved to make it reality.
And so, with my passion and determination, I began constructing my own iron maiden. I lined its interior with countless spikes, at the right length to penetrate as deep as possible without hitting arteries or vital organs. I fitted it with sturdy steel automatic restraints that would lock me in place. A heavy automatic door lined with razorsharp spikes designed to close and never open again would seal me inside, and to top things up a monster sized thrusting dildo fitted with dozens of spikes would torture my most sensitive area, my pussy. I even planned to gag myself to ensure no sound would escape my lips.
To get in the mood for this, all the work on this project I undertook naked, locked in a corset and with heavy steel manacles on my wrists and ankles. Some weekends I spent down in that cellar chained to the wall on a long chain with a timer padlock set to keep me there from friday evening till monday morning, tirelessly labouring like a slave, living on a sparse ration of disgusting old bread and dirty water. If I did not reach the target that I had set for myself to reach that day, I whipped myself till my back was bleeding badly, and slept that night with my hands cuffed behind my back.
Finally the iron maiden was completed. It functioned perfectly. And I just have stepped inside and pushed the activation switch....
The locks closed around my neck, wrists and ankles. Keyless locks, meant to close but never open. I tested them to make sure they would not give, but they were sturdy. My crotch was getting wet from the anticipation of my inescapeable ordeal. After what felt like an eternity the door slowly started to close itself. But as the door pushed it's last inch shut and locked itself forever, and the spikes pierced my body up to my bones, the pain was far more intense than I could have ever imagined. It was excruciating, a thousand needles stabbing me all at once, tearing through my flesh. I screamed in my gag, but no one could hear me.
But that was just the beginning. The dildo began its relentless thrusts and the spikes on its surface ripped my pussy apart. Worse, every thrust made my body move, moving the countless spikes in my flesh. The pain was unimaginable, burning through every inch of my being. I wanted to escape, to be free from this agony, but I could not. The automatic restraints and the door held me in place, trapping me forever in this hellish torture.
For days, I suffered, both physically and mentally. With each passing moment, I overthought why I was so crazy to actually do this, and how bad I wanted out. Trying again and again to struggle to get free, only to be stopped dead immediately by the spikes that penetrated my body from all directions. I was in was a never-ending cycle of torment, but I couldn't stop. I had to see this through to the end.
In the end, when I was drifting in and out of unconciousness, something unexpected happened. As the pain became unbearable, a wave of intense pleasure washed over me. I had a huge orgasm, stronger thanI had neve experienced before. It was euphoric, a release of all the pent-up desires and emotions within me.
But it was short-lived. As my body slowly shut down, I knew that this was the end. My body would never be found, trapped inside my own creation. But in my final moments, I knew that I had achieved what I set out to do. I had experienced the ultimate release by getting into the ultimate lockup, in the most intense way possible.
My life may often have been filled with pain and darkness, but in my last act, I found a moment of pure ecstasy. And for that, I have no regrets. My name may be forgotten, but my soul will be free in the knowledge that I reached my ultimate goal.
So, as you read this, know that I am at peace, free from the never-ending cycle of depression and pain. And if you ever happen to stumble upon my secret underground cellar, know that you are standing in the place where I achieved my ultimate release, where I found true freedom.
The iron maiden experience.
I made my final preparations that week. I quit my job, and told everybody that I would travel through Europe for the next 3 months. I locked my door, switched off the lights, undressed and lifted the concrete slab that was covering the entrance to my personal dungeon. With a loud slam the concrete slab closed itself behind me. Step by step I went down, knowing this would be my final descent.
Once down, I sat myself down on a stool in front of a mirror. I put a jaw stretching penis gag in my mouth, while admiring my body one last time. Soon it would be mutilated.
As I placed myself inside the iron maiden, I could feel the excitement and anticipation building within me. I realised that this would be my last chance to change my mind. I could live if I wanted. But like a moth being drawn to a flame, I placed my neck, ankles and wrists in the open restraints. Then I stretched my finger and pushed the activation button.
How I got to this point? That's a strange story.
Throughout my life, many have told methat I am a beautiful woman, considered a turn on by many, with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes. I had a succesful job, was loved by my co workers and although most of the time I was single, I had pleasant boyfriends that enlighted my life from time to time. What most people didn't know is that I always have been drawn to the world of BDSM, finding pleasure in the pain and submission. My partners took part in those games, dominating me to give me the pleasure I desired through submission, restraint and pain. But my secret desires went way beyond what most would consider extreme. I wanted to push the limits, to experience the ultimate release in the most intense way possible. That scared my lovers eventually away again and again.
But my life was not all pleasure. What I hid from the outer world is that I suffered from depressions, and it took me over from time to time. It could be a dangerous and dark place, one that dove me to do things I never thought possible. And that's how I came to plan my own spectacular suicide.
It all began when I discovered a secret underground bomb shelter in the cellar under the old house that I had inherited from my aunt. I had been searching for a way to fulfill my fantasies in a safe and secluded place, and this room was my ticket. I spent months designing and constructing my own personal dungeon, without anybody knowing. It was equipped with all the tools and devices I needed to satisfy my needs.
One night, as I was lying in my bed, lost in my thoughts and consumed by my depression, an idea struck me like lightning. I would build an iron maiden, a torture device used in medieval times, but with modern twists. It would be my final release, and I would build it myself. I had always dreamt of iron maidens in my darkest dreams, over time the desire to actually die in one by my own hand got stronger and stronger. Eventually I got to the point that I resolved to make it reality.
And so, with my passion and determination, I began constructing my own iron maiden. I lined its interior with countless spikes, at the right length to penetrate as deep as possible without hitting arteries or vital organs. I fitted it with sturdy steel automatic restraints that would lock me in place. A heavy automatic door lined with razorsharp spikes designed to close and never open again would seal me inside, and to top things up a monster sized thrusting dildo fitted with dozens of spikes would torture my most sensitive area, my pussy. I even planned to gag myself to ensure no sound would escape my lips.
To get in the mood for this, all the work on this project I undertook naked, locked in a corset and with heavy steel manacles on my wrists and ankles. Some weekends I spent down in that cellar chained to the wall on a long chain with a timer padlock set to keep me there from friday evening till monday morning, tirelessly labouring like a slave, living on a sparse ration of disgusting old bread and dirty water. If I did not reach the target that I had set for myself to reach that day, I whipped myself till my back was bleeding badly, and slept that night with my hands cuffed behind my back.
Finally the iron maiden was completed. It functioned perfectly. And I just have stepped inside and pushed the activation switch....
The locks closed around my neck, wrists and ankles. Keyless locks, meant to close but never open. I tested them to make sure they would not give, but they were sturdy. My crotch was getting wet from the anticipation of my inescapeable ordeal. After what felt like an eternity the door slowly started to close itself. But as the door pushed it's last inch shut and locked itself forever, and the spikes pierced my body up to my bones, the pain was far more intense than I could have ever imagined. It was excruciating, a thousand needles stabbing me all at once, tearing through my flesh. I screamed in my gag, but no one could hear me.
But that was just the beginning. The dildo began its relentless thrusts and the spikes on its surface ripped my pussy apart. Worse, every thrust made my body move, moving the countless spikes in my flesh. The pain was unimaginable, burning through every inch of my being. I wanted to escape, to be free from this agony, but I could not. The automatic restraints and the door held me in place, trapping me forever in this hellish torture.
For days, I suffered, both physically and mentally. With each passing moment, I overthought why I was so crazy to actually do this, and how bad I wanted out. Trying again and again to struggle to get free, only to be stopped dead immediately by the spikes that penetrated my body from all directions. I was in was a never-ending cycle of torment, but I couldn't stop. I had to see this through to the end.
In the end, when I was drifting in and out of unconciousness, something unexpected happened. As the pain became unbearable, a wave of intense pleasure washed over me. I had a huge orgasm, stronger thanI had neve experienced before. It was euphoric, a release of all the pent-up desires and emotions within me.
But it was short-lived. As my body slowly shut down, I knew that this was the end. My body would never be found, trapped inside my own creation. But in my final moments, I knew that I had achieved what I set out to do. I had experienced the ultimate release by getting into the ultimate lockup, in the most intense way possible.
My life may often have been filled with pain and darkness, but in my last act, I found a moment of pure ecstasy. And for that, I have no regrets. My name may be forgotten, but my soul will be free in the knowledge that I reached my ultimate goal.
So, as you read this, know that I am at peace, free from the never-ending cycle of depression and pain. And if you ever happen to stumble upon my secret underground cellar, know that you are standing in the place where I achieved my ultimate release, where I found true freedom.
Attachments
Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
@thecuriousone
What a great read! Days of agony before her ultimate release! I haven’t read such an erotic Iron Maiden story as this before, well done!
What a great read! Days of agony before her ultimate release! I haven’t read such an erotic Iron Maiden story as this before, well done!