The story is a sadistic FANTASY, AND A COMPLETE WORK OF FICTION! In REAL LIFE, I DO NOT CONDONE sexual violence and torture against the helpless in any way, shape, or form! BDS&M play should always be SAFE, SANE, & CONSENSUAL!
If you have been a victim of sexual violence, call 800.656.HOPE
(4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual
assault service provider in your area.
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She was just a crippled slave to be used and abused by
the able-bodied master (me Hans), my lovely wife Ava, and Dr. Lana. Nurse Heidi is technically a slave, but we
allowed her to use the cripples too, as long as Dr. Lana was happy with her
work.
When Ava wanted to open a group home for the
handicapped, just after we were married, I had doubts. I must admit though, it's the only way to
live. Her uber wealth keeps the state
away, letting us do whatever we want with our residents, so we enslaved them as
the inferior creatures they are. And
rightly so. The inferior exist only for
the pleasure of the superior.
All the slaves were kept naked, except for their
collars, as a constant degrading reminder of their sub-human status. The ones that could move around on their own were
the limpers, they did the housework and waited on us hand and foot. The ones that couldn't walk, or do much of
anything, were the droolers, and they were used to satisfy our sexual and
sadistic pleasure.
I didn't know, or care about, the name of the drooler
I was about to fuck up the ass. I simply
picked her off the floor, draped her over the back of one of our black leather
sofas, and pulled my cock from my leather-backed blue jeans.
“I could fuck your pussy so easily,” I said to my fuck
toy. “Oh, it’d be so fucking easy. But, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Ya, you'd love it! It'd give you so much fucking pleasure! Well
slut, this is about my pleasure not yours. I’m going to take pleasure in
destroying your tight little ass. Your
pain is going to add so much to my pleasure.”
My slave of the moment threw her head back and wailed
in inaudible forlorn terror as I slapped her ass several more times with my
rock-hard manhood. She wriggled and
squirmed, fully aware of what was coming, fully aware that she couldn't stop
it.
I grabbed her hair to keep her head from bending
forward again. “You want to scream, do
ya? I’ll make you fucking scream! I’m going to make you scream and scream and
fucking scream some more!”
The tip of my cock entered and left its target several
times, keeping the crippled bitch on edge to prolong her terror and
suffering. Without warning I shoved my
cock all the way inside of her. The slave’s screams of exquisite agony were
sweet music to me as I pumped harder and harder. Our sweat covered thighs clapped together in
a violent frenzy, applauding my cruelty.
“You look like you're having fun,” a voice said.
I turned my head to see Ava leaning on our living
room’s wet bar throwing back a shot of Johnny Walker Blue. She was dressed in; black Doc Marten hook
boots with roses & skulls stitched down the outside of each boot, Daisy
Dukes, and an American flag bikini top; with the end of
her personal slave’s leash in one hand and the shot glass in the other. Ava set the glass on the bar and picked up
her favorite black snakewhip from the bar stool where it had been resting.
Her personal slave, Toad, was loyally cringing at Ava’s
feet, looking down at the floor. By the
look of his back, Ava had recently had some fun with her whip. Toad was a completely loyal and doting slave
who worked hard to please his mistress.
My lovely wife was an artist in sadism skilled in finding the tiniest
excuse to punish him. I learned later
that he’d earned a volley of lashes for slightly over salting her eggs that
morning.
I began pumping harder and faster and harder and
faster and harder and faster… “Oh yeah,”
I said. "This is just what I needed to take the edge off, fuck,
fuck, fuuuuuuuuck!”
“Good for you hun,” she said as she walked over to
me. Ava turned my head, with her finger
under my chin, and kissed my mouth as I kept fucking and making wonderful
slapping noises.
“Let me finish,” I said, “And, I’ll make sweet love to
you.”
Ava circled to the front of the couch, snapped,
pointed to a black suede lounge chair on the far side of the room, pointed to
her own ass, and relaxed her grip on the leash.
Toad crawled behind the chair and pushed it into position behind his
mistress with his head and shoulders as he crawled back. She could’ve fetched the chair for herself
much easier, but seeing him struggle brought a smile to her beautiful lips. Once the chair was in place, Toad knelt beside
the chair and bowed his head. He
wasn't thanked, or acknowledged in any way.
“Take your time pumpkin,” she said pleasantly as she
sat down, propped her feet on the couch, and crossed her ankles directly in
front of my fuck toy’s face. “We have
all day to do whatever the fuck we want. I was thinking we’d hop in the car later
and hit Sanctuary later for a couple veggie burgers and some… whatever.”
Sanctuary was a sex club in Portland. Catalyst was fun too, but we preferred the
upscale atmosphere and all vegetarian menu of Sanctuary. “Let me finish destroying this bitch’s ass,
and we’ll hit the town.”
“Take your time babe,” she said. “I’m enjoying the show."
It felt so fucking good to see the piece of meat I was
hammering wailing and bawling in abject misery and pain. The thought that I had stripped her of every
last ounce of her humanity heightened my orgasm as I shot my load up her
ass.
Blood and cum trickled from her ass as I pulled my
cock out of her. “Mind if I borrow your
piece of shit,” I said.
“Not at all,” Ava said warmly. “What’s mine is
yours love-bug.” Wearing a cruel sneer,
Ava snapped and pointed to me. “Clean my
husband, slave.”
Toad crawled behind the couch as fast as he could,
knelt in front of me, and took my penis into his mouth to clean it. “Take it all you stupid piece of shit,"
I said. “I better be COMPLETELY CLEAN down there when you're done, or so me
I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
“Now hun," Ava said good naturedly. “If you beat the shit out of a piece of shit,
what would be left?”
“Share and share alike,” I said.
“Clean my soles cunt,” she said through a mean sneer.
The drooler wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Ava moved her feet closer to the drooler’s
face, but the disobedient bitch pulled her head away from my lovely wife’s
feet.
“Babe,” Ava said. “Your bitch is being a bitch.”
“Is that so?” I said. My dick was clean but still inside Toad’s
mouth and throat. I used the opportunity
to release a long stream of piss. To my
wife’s credit, her slave swallowed every repulsive drop.
The look on his
face told me the taste of my pee was making him sick, which pleased me, but he
made sure to swallow every noxious drop before licking any possible residue
from the tip of my cock. Once I was
clean, Toad used his good hand to carefully tuck my penis into my pants. Then he gripped my zipper in his teeth,
zipped me up, and crawled back to his mistress.
“Thank you,” I said to Ava. “Now hun, what kind of trouble is this waste
of space giving you?”
“This bitch won't lick my boots,” Ava said disgusted.
I pretended to clean my ear with my finger. “I don't think I heard you right,” I
said. “What do you mean she won't lick your boots? She is our slave, our property. She doesn’t have a choice.”
“I know dear,” Ava said. “But look, my gorgeous
boots are right next to her ugly face, and she keeps shaking her head as if she
has rights. It's ridiculous!”
Seeing red, I bent forward over the back of the couch,
picked the slave’s head up by her hair, and pressed her nose against the bottom
of my wife's boot. “Listen to me you
fucking little cunt,” I said through gritted teeth. “You're our slave, our property. That means, you do what you're told, when
you're told, how you're told. We don't
give a fuck if you think it's fair. In
fact, we don't give even a tiny fuck about what you think or feel about anything! You're our slave, you will do as you're told
when we’re using you and lay there quietly, like a piece of garbage, when we're
not! Now, lick the filth out of that
boot!”
I held the bitch's face against the sole of Ava’s
boot. She tried to shake her head “no”
again. I gripped her lower jaw in my
free hand to steady her head. Lovely Ava
pressed her foot into our slave’s nose in order to inflict a dose of pain. The disobedient bitch still refused to stick
her tongue out to clean my wife's boot.
“I think we’ve been to kind to this one,” I
said.
“We probably fed her scraps two days in a row, spoiled
her,” Ava surmised.
“Is that what we did?” I said angrily. “Did we spoil you into thinking you were a
person… with rights?” I put my mouth
right next to her ear and growled, “You can bet we're going to correct that
mistake.” I through the crippled to the
floor. “You need punishment!” I said,
tearing a Mexican bullwhip from the wall.
“I disagree
dear," Ava said.
My jaw dropped, and I froze in disbelief.
“Oh, whip the bitch, of course,” my wife said, “By all
means, whip her. I just don't think
that's enough. I think her flagrant
disobedience has earned her some truly long-lasting painful punishment. A completely mercilessly slow punishment.”
I thought about it as I delivered a round of vicious
blows to the slave’s helpless back and ass.
“You know,” I said as my whip continued to rip the skin from the
disobedient wench’s flesh. “We bought
that thing at Folsom Street Fair two years ago, and it's been sitting in our sub-basement,
unused, since.”
The most beautiful woman in the world smiled and
clapped with excitement as soon as I said it.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” she exclaimed.
She picked the slave’s head up by her hair and peered straight into the
slave’s terrified eyes. “You hear that
bitch? You're in for pain and
frustration which will make your current beating seem like a day at the
spa.” She sat back in her chair
comfortably. “No hurry hun, it's a very
entertaining whipping.”
Once I heard that, I really put on a show for
Ava. My whip found the wench’s kidneys,
liver, and twat multiple times. Just for
fun, I let Ava call out body parts and that would be where I’d place my
lash.
“Liver!” she screamed, and my whip landed on the
liver, WHAP, producing wonderful screams and convulsions of pain.
“Kidneys!”
WHAP!
“Ribcage!”
WHAP!
*SCREAM, shudder-shudder*
“Ass-crack!”
WHAP!
WHAP!
*SCREAM, shudder-shudder, sob*
Each lash fall made her scream and her body flail
uncontrollably. Each scream made Ava
laugh hysterically. Seeing my beautiful
wife enjoy the moment made me happy.
While I put on a show for Ava, Toad crawled to her feet and licked the
bottom of her boots completely clean.
She loved seeing Toad work to please her without needing to be told, but
she was careful not to thank him.
Once I had delivered a proper beating, I collapsed
into my wife's lap. Dropping the whip, I
traded for a tender grasp of Ava's head and kissed her black lips. My hands worked their way to her ample
breasts, kneading them gently as we continued kissing. After kissing for several minutes, I began to
unfasten her shorts. Her hand caught
mine. “Not yet love,” she said. “Let’s punish the bitch first.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I’ll take her down is you'll fetch the good doctor."
“You got it babe,” she said.
I scooped our doomed prisoner up in my arms and
started down the hall as Ava took ahold of Toad’s Leash and headed for Doctor
Lana’s quarters. A limper was working
hard to scrub the hall’s hardwood floor.
Both her hands were clubbed with cerebral palsy (she couldn't open her
fingers or extend her wrists, making her hands look like gnarled hooks),
forcing her to crawl on her knees and the backs of her hands, which shot waves
of pain into her wrists, elbows as she moved.
She couldn't hold a scrub brush, so we strapped a humilator gag onto her
shaved head and attached a brush to make it possible to work eighteen hours a
day.
“Follow,” I said as I passed her. The slave crawled behind me with her head
reverently bowed out of respect for her master.
Stopping at the basement door I said, “Open.”
Unable to grip the door knob, my slave knelt in front
of the door, put the backs of her hands, on either side of the knob and turned
it, with great effort, until the latch moved allowing her to “walk” backwards
on her knees and pull the door open.
She followed me down the steps to our first
basement. She gulped as we passed our
torture rack and several cages. I
ignored the toys and walked to a second door on the far side of the
basement. The limper’s hands slipped the
first time she tried to turn the knob and I punished her by stepping on her
crippled foot, grinding it into the hard cement floor. She grimaced in pain, but kept working until
the door opened.
The staircase was extremely steep, and the slave had
tremendous difficulty negotiating the steps without falling. I stood at the bottom and watched her put a
hand down, shake until she could steady herself, put a knee down and shake some
more. Her eyes begged me to help
her. I didn't. It was too fun to watch. She almost made it too, but her hand spasmed
on the forth step from the bottom, sending her, chin first, to the floor.
She lay stunned until I said, “Up, you fucking piece
of garbage.”
She shook the cobwebs from her shaved and gagged head,
and climbed back to her hands and knees.
Impressively, even though her work gag was still in, preventing her from
kissing my boots, she had the presence of mind to humbly buffed my boots with
her brush. I stood there and allowed her
to perform her humble act of worship without complementing, or even
acknowledging, her.
The sub-basement was dusty, dimly-lit, any empty
except for a box made of cold hard caste-iron.
It's previous owner had drilled two small holes in the back of the box
so his midget could breath in storage until he wanted to use him for
something. Inserted into one of the
holes was a stretch of three-millimeter medical tubing.
My feet were still being groveled at when Dr. Lana,
Ava, and, her slave, Toad came down the steps.
The doctor was wearing a black Victorian era lab coat with buttons of
whale bone running along; the neck, shoulders, wrists and down the asymmetrical
front panel; her black leather thigh high boots, long black leather gloves, and
a black & white paisley handkerchief which kept her crop of fiery red hair
pulled back off of her forehead and away from her eyes. Her coat was speckled with blood.
Ava kissed the back of my neck and rested her head on
my strong shoulder. “I see you're still
carrying the little bitch,” she said.
“Light fucking slut,” I said. “She does belong on the floor while we
decide the duration of her punishment.”
I thought I'd heard one of her ribs crack when I dropped her to the
floor at our feet. We didn't care. The limper who’d opened doors for me moved
toward the drooler to see if she was okay.
I shook my head. She backed away
and bowed her head again.
“Doctor,” Ava said. “Does this I.V. tube still
lead up to your office?”
“Yes Ma’am,” the doctor said.
“If we gave her intravenous nutrition, how long could
this piece of shit live in this box?”
Doctor Lana closed her eyes and moved her finger as if
she was doing math in her head. Then she
opened her eyes and shrugged. “Provided
I include the right vitamins, minerals, and antibiotics she could live in this
thing for years.”
“Antibiotics?” I said.
“Well yes,” Doctor Lana said. “Until she passes her
last scraps of bread, she’s going to defecate.
If you don't want her to die from infection, I’ll have to include some
hefty antibiotics in her intravenous cocktail.”
Ava crouched down and began petting the drooler like a
cat. “And, all that stink will be
trapped right in there with her.
Perfect.” She smiled. “What about her piss, doctor?”
“Her intravenous fluids, are… fluids. She’ll continue to urinate for as long as
she’s in there.” The doctor crouched and
began petting the drooler as well. “Of
course, wretched smells will be the least of her problems. Her muscles will want to extend. There won't be room to move, but with
cerebral palsy she won't be able to stop her arms, legs, and neck from
straining against the hard sides of her prison.”
Ava's smile grew, and she continued to stroke the disobedient
bitch. “She will be in unyielding pain
in every part of her crippled body.”
“And, there will be nobody down here to hear her
scream,” I added. “She will be all
alone, in the dark, in constant pain.
Hun, you're the one she disobeyed.
How long a sentence do want to give her?”
Ava stood, and I hugged her from behind. “She insulted me. I see no reason not to impose a life sentence.” The bitch wriggled and thrashed in totally
helpless terror upon hearing the declaration of cruelty.
I kissed Ava's beautiful shoulder. “Your judgment is completely void of mercy or
compassion of any kind. We’d be
condemning the poor thing to years, maybe decades of pain, hunger, and
loneliness. It's heartless.”
“Think it's too much?” she said.
I turned her around in my arms and kissed her on the
mouth. “I think it's perfect,” I said,
and I kissed her again.
Ava stood with one foot on the bitch's chest and
peered down at the recipient of her wrath.
“Do you know how fucked you are?” she hissed. “Once we put you in the box, your entire
world will be dark, cramped, quiet, except for your screams, and lonely. You'll never stretch, relax, eat, drink,…”
“…With the right drugs in her intravenous cocktail,”
Doctor Lana interrupted, “I can even deprive her of sleep, so she’s awake and
suffering twenty-four seven.”
“Such drugs won't cause her heart problems, will
they?” Ava said.
The doctor, looking somewhat offended, pulled a watch
from her pocket, strapped it tight to the bitch's wrist, and said, "You
pay me good money to think of everything, and I think of everything. Believe me.
The air hole is big enough to let the Fitbit transmit her vitals to my
phone. If she has heart palpitations or
goes into arrhythmia an alarm will sound and I, and/or Nurse Heidi will down to
revive her.”
“My apologies,“ Ava said. “I should have
realized you would have had a plan for this occasion.”
Doctor Lana reached across the bitch and hugged Ava
briefly. “It's Okay, I understand it's
important to you that she lives a long time.
And, she will live a very… long… time.”
“Hear that bitch?” my wife said. “You're going
to be suffering in here for years.
You'll never get a break from the agony and misery. Tell me, was your moment of disobedient defiance
worth it?”
The crippled bitch shook her head, terrified, as tears
streamed down her sunken cheeks. Her eyes
darted to each of us, searching for the smallest sign of mercy in the face of
the doctor, Ava, or myself. Instead, she
found three people were taking total pleasure in her predicament. Desperately, the doomed creature began making
frantic licking motions with her tongue.
“Oh, now you want to clean my boots, is that it?"
Ava said. “Now you want to obey in exchange for forgiveness? We may be your gods, but we're not forgiving
gods. We're cruel selfish petty
gods. I think I speak for the three of us
when I say we're going to take immense pleasure in condemning to a
life-sentence of non-stop torture.”
Doctor Lana and I nodded in happy agreement.
“From now on,” Ava continued, “My food will taste
better, my bed will feel softer, and my orgasms will be that much more intense
knowing you're down hear suffering in the pitch dark.” The three of us laughed as the doctor and I
picked the condemned drooler up by her arms and legs and Ava lifted back the
heavy iron lid.
The interior of the box was hard and, with the
textured feel of a caste iron skillet.
Nothing about it said comfort.
The doctor and I twisted her limbs into awkwardly painful angles as we
lowered her into her prison. “Here, hold
her shoulder while I bend her arm up and back,” I said. “Now if I turn
the bitch's head to the side and pin it with her arm, it should put painful
stress on her neck muscles. Once the lid
shuts, she'll be stuck in this stress position with absolutely no room to
move.”
Unable to speak clearly, screaming was the only way
she had to beg us for mercy. Doctor Lana
found the end of the intravenous line, pulled it through one of the two tiny
holes in the box, and inserted it into the bitch's arm. “You're never going to eat or drink again,
but this will give you your yummy vitamins and nutrients to keep you alive,”
the doctor said.
“Doctor," I said. “Even though she'll be
getting nutrition, will she still feel hunger?”
Lana's smile grew wider. “Oh yes,” she said. “I can adjust levels so she constantly feels
hunger as well as unquenchable thirst.”
The crippled bitch's screaming and squirming made us
laugh uproariously. “Not so fast,” Ava
said. “Let's close it slowly, I love seeing her writhing and twisting.”
To increase the entertainment value, we lowered the
lid as slowly as we could then locked it with a large brass key and a loud
click. I handed Doctor Lana the key as Ava
addressed Toad and the scrub slave. “You
both saw what happened here. Once we
leave the sub-basement, it'll be locked and off limits. I want you to make sure the other slaves know
what the price was for disobedience.“
The scrub slave, who was still gagged, nodded her
compliance.
Toad said, “Yes Mistress Ava, they will all know what
happened to Pamela for disobeying you,” and kissed her boots.
“Her name was Pamela?” Ava said.
“Yes Mistress Ava,” Toad said. “We came from
Rainbow House together. She was my friend.”
I gently embraced Ava from behind and kissed her
ear. “Let's shower and get dressed and
we'll Sanctuary,”
“Sounds fun,” Ava said. "Let's take an
Uber, I want to do some shots of Macallan Single Malt tonight and just get
fucked up.”
“You got it hun,” I said. “Whatever you want.”
