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Review This Story || Author: Wistan

The Prey

Part 1

Marie walked into the club, casting her eyes around to assess the place. Hot, dark,


crowded, the music playing just too loudly for comfort. Perfect. She felt the first


stirrings of excitement at the thought of the adventure she was about to embark on. She


considered herself a predator, and this was an ideal hunting ground.


    She drew no shortage of stares as she made her way to the bar. As a rule Marie


didn't consider herself to be an especially beautiful woman - she had no real trouble


attracting men, but it didn't exactly take a great deal to attract the average man. But


nights like this were different. When she was hunting, she always felt more than her


usual self. Tonight she was just a little larger than life, more beautiful, more sexy,


more daring. Perhaps it was the hunting frame of mind, but she knew she carried herself


differently on nights like this, projected confidence and sexuality in a way that she


normally found difficult to do. Her attire helped, of course; tight black leather shorts


and a matching halter top brief enough that it had considerable trouble containing her


ample charms. She wore knee length black leather boots with high heels; she loved the


noise they made as she walked, the snap of the heels made her feel like she was driving a


dagger into the ground with each step. Her short brown hair was covered by a long blonde


wig which she had bought just for tonight. Certainly the male patrons of the club


approved - she declined three invitations for a dance within the first few minutes.


    The press of sweaty bodies at the bar was ten deep, but she managed to work her way


through and buy a drink - a soda, as always on these nights when it was important that


her head remain clear. She spent twenty minutes taking a leisurely tour of the club,


making mental notes of how much security there was and how much attention they were


paying, the location of security cameras, the dark corners where people went after they


paired off, things like that.


    When she had the lay of the land and had absorbed enough of the atmosphere, she


picked out a good spot and began to casually scan the crowd. She turned down several more


potential suitors over the next half an hour. She had no real reason for the refusal,


just a vague sense of wrongness. She had no specific image of the prey in mind, she


always chose more on instinct than any rational bais, but she always knew him without any


doubt when she saw him. Their disappointed looks gave her a secret amusement. If only


they knew the evening that they had avoided...


    After another fifteen or twenty minutes, she spotted him.


    A momentary gap opened in the jumble of bodies on the dance floor and she saw him,


just for an instant. Marie knew instantly that he was the one - she had found the prey.


She went onto the floor and began dancing, working her way towards him through the throng


of bodies. The floor was a riot of noise and movement - few people were paying attention


to anybody but their partner and for all her looks and the amount of skin she was


displaying, she drew hardly a glance.


    She smiled as she closed in on the prey. He was dancing with a plain, slightly


chubby redhead, the kind of woman men settled for when they couldn't make it with the A-


grade material - with women like her. She simply worked her way over and began to dance


with him, practically shoving the other woman out of the way. His reaction was comical,


he opened his mouth to complain then suddenly lost his rhythm as his eyes tracked her


magnificent body from bottom to top. Maire could sense the other woman radiating outrage,


but she knew when she was outclassed, and on elook at her partner's face confirmed the


defeat. She had no choice but to slink away into the crowd.


    They danced for twenty minutes or so, their moves getting more and more


provocative. Marie gave herself fully to the music, letting it sweep her away. Her mind


was a whirl of emotion, filled with anticipation of the night ahead. Finally he leaned in


and suggested they go and get a drink. She let him buy and followed him into one of those


dark corners - it was always wise to let them think they were the ones in charge at this


point in the hunt.


    "What's your name?" He had to almost shout over the music.


    "Kara," she lied.


    "I'm Robert," he said.


    They made small talk for a while, swapping the surface details about their lives.


He worked for a computer company, mid level management, comfortable but not exactly rich.


She told him she was a freelance model, just one of thousands trying to make it in a cut-


throat market. She had an apartment in the city which she shared with two other women.


Spinning the web of lies for him added to her excitement, knowing that he had no idea


that she was gradually reeling him in thrilled her to the core. She leaned in closer as


he talked, giving every appearance of being interested, of hanging on his every word.


    Normally she would proposition the prey, but tonight she decided to see how long it


would take him to do it himself. She did everything possible to encourage him, of course.


She played the flirt, laughing at his jokes, brushing her fingers on his chest or


shoulder. When he finally leaned in to kiss her she allowed it, and when he put his hand


hesitantly on her knee she covered it with her own and slid it up along her thigh. The


look of glee on his face was a sight to behold. He must think he had hit the lucky streak


of all time!


    Finally, they decided by mutual agreement that they had had enough of the club.


Marie picked up her short leather jacket and the small rucksack at the door, the girl


behind the counter barely glancing at her as she handed them over. The night air felt


deliciously cool on her sweaty skin and she stretched luxuriously, knowing that his eyes


would be crawling all over her body.


    He led her down the block to his car, a BMW. Marie frowned as she saw a group of


girls walking along the pavement, giggling amongst themselves. She pushed him into a


doorway and kissed him deeply, running a hand across the crotch of his trousers. There


was a definite bulge there, and not a small one either! She kept him busy until the group


had passed. "Sorry," she murmured, "couldn't help myself."


    Her excitement built as they approached the car; she could feel her pussy tingling


in anticipation of what was to come. While he fumbled his keys out of his pocket Marie


made one last quick check around. A small group was walking past down on the main road, a


good eighty feet away, their attention focused on one another. There was no way they


would see anything happening, not in the dark. She reached down to her boot and drew the


knife that nestled there. As he opened the car door she pressed her body to his back,


feeling his warmth against her skin, and placed the knife against his neck. She had seen


a huge combat knife with an eight inch blade in the shop which had looked just perfect


for intimidation, but when she'd handled it the thing had been just too heavy and


unwieldy. She'd settled on a four inch double edged design. She pressed it into his flesh


just above his adam's apple, hard enough to get his complete attention.


    "Inside!" She hissed urgently, her voice hard now, unyielding. The interior lights


of the car would illuminate them whilst the door was open, so she had to get this done


very quickly before anybody else walked past and saw them. "Inside, or I'll cut you


open!"


    He froze, and she shoved him toward the car door. "Inside, now!" She leaned in and


said it louder this time - it meant greater risk of drawing attention but she had to get


him moving quickly, being spotted now would ruin everything. Finally he collected his


wits and began to obey. She followed him, literally inches behind as she urged him across


to the passenger side and pulled the door closed behind her. The light went out again,


bringing welcome darkness to the car. Robert wedged himself against the passenger door,


staring at her knife with wide eyes.


    "Stay perfectly still," she said, keeping the commanding tone. "The knife is very


real, it's very sharp, and I know exactly how to use it. I could slit you open before you


could even draw a breath, and be five streets away before anybody found the body. Resist


and that's just exactly what will happen. If you do exactly as I say, you won't get


hurt." Now there was the biggest lie of the night so far, she mused... "Understood?"


    "Yes," he said in a whisper. He was terrified, she could see him literally shaking.


She felt the moisture from her pussy begin to soak into her panties as her excitement


level increased.


    "Keys."


    He handed them over, trembling so much that they were actually rattling. She took


them and locked the doors with the button on the grip. "Put your seatbelt on," she


ordered. He had to turn away from her to do it; while his eyes were off her she took a


moment to pull the knife away from his neck and yanked the rucksack over her head,


dumping it on the floor in front of her. As he settled the belt into place she put the


knife to his groin. Now it would be virtually impossible for anybody to see what was


going on even if they walked right past the car. "This is more than sharp enough to cut


through material," she said. "If you try anything, I'll castrate you." She withdrew a


pair of handcuffs from the rucksack. "Put your hands in front of you. Twist the seatbelt


around each wrist, then put these on."


    He obeyed, fumbling with the belt and the heavy metal cuffs while she watched


carefully.


    "We're going for a little drive," she said. She waved the knife a little. "I'll


need both hands on the wheel, but I'll have this in the door pocket right next to me. It


would take you a good ten seconds or more to untangle your hands and get that door open.


Trust me, I can get to the knife and use it in much less time than that. Clear?" He


nodded slowly, his face quite pale. She handed him a pair of sunglasses. "Put those on."


    The glasses were an idea Marie was trying for the first time tonight. On previous


hunts it had bothered her that the prey would know where she was driving him, or when her


hands would be well away from the knife. She'd considered a blindfold for last time, but


worried that it would be too obvious to drivers in other cars. The sunglasses were the


type that fitted very closely over the eyes, leaving no gaps to speak of. She had coated


the inside with several layers of glossy black paint, turning them into a simple but


almost completely effective blindfold. Anybody looking into the car would just see a guy


in sunglasses - not that unusual even at night, not amongst the nightclub crowd. But he


would be unable to see where she was going or what she was doing at any given moment.


    She took a roundabout route, turning frequently at random before settling down to


head for home. After thirty minutes she pulled into her driveway, fishing the garage


remote from her rucksack and driving into the small space before closing it behind her.


    Marie retrieved the knife and backed out of the car. "Unwrap your hands and get


out," she ordered. "Do not put your hands anywhere near your face. Move very slowly and


carefully. Make one fast or sudden movement and I'll gut you right here."


    "Please," he said hoarsely. "I don't have any real money, but you can take whatever


you want, just let me go-"


    She leaned in and put the point of the knife under his chin, forcing his head back.


He made a startled noise, more a squeak than a grunt. "Listen to me!" She snapped. "You


have one chance to stay alive, and that is to do exactly as I say. Argue with me, or fail


to follow my instructions exactly, and I will bleed you right here. Understand?"


    "Yes!" He yelped. She backed up again. "Out. Slowly."


    He climbed out, fumbling at having to use his cuffed hands. As he emerged head-


first she put the knife to his neck again. She was almost there, no sense taking chances


now. She walked him through into the kitchen and bent him over the table. "I'm going to


let you uncuff yourself for a moment," she said. "Try anything and I'll cut you from ear


to ear."


    She tossed the key onto the table in front of him. "Unlock one cuff, then re-cuff


your hands behind your back."


    He obeyed. She put the knife against his crotch from behind. "Stay perfectly still.


I wouldn't want to have to make you into a soprano for life." She took the spreader bar


which she had left with other restraints on the table. It was an expensive one, heavy


metal, with thick leather cuffs on each end attached by heavy metal links. She had to use


both hands to attach it, but it was a reasonable risk against a handcuffed man. Within


moments she had the bar attached. Almost finished! She took a heavy leather collar and


wrapped it around his neck, fumbling with trying to get it fastened one handed for


several minutes before finally managing it. There was a metal ring at the front and back


of the collar; a length of thick chain was already padlocked to the back. Bending to the


spreader bar she pulled the chain taut. "Arch your back. More. More!" She pulled the


chain as tight as she could and secured it with another padlock. Next, she pulled his


wrist cuffs up hard until he yelped at the pain in his shoulders, and a final padlock


secured them to the chain. Lastly, she took the ball gag and tried to force it into his


mouth. He struggled against her, which made her smile - he waited until now to struggle!


No matter how many times she did this, it constantly amazed her how badly stress could


affect the prey's judgement.


    One final job for the knife, then. She put it to his cheek. "Either you open your


mouth, or I will," she said simply. One look at the expression in her eyes brought him


back under control nicely, and she buckled the ball gag into place.


    Yes! She slipped the knife back into the boot sheath. He was no danger now. Total


success!


    "Downstairs," she ordered, shoving him ahead of her as she headed for the basement.


He took forever to get down the stairs, his bondage limiting his movements severely, and


she had to stop him from falling at least twice.


    This was what Marie called her 'rape room'. She'd worked on it for over a year on


and off, scrubbing and varnishing the bare brick walls, cleaning up the wooden beams,


resurfacing the floor. She'd screwed a variety of bolts and hooks into one wall and hung


a heavy block and tackle from a beam. A big screen television sat in one corner, a DVD


player beneath and a home video camera on a tripod beside it. A large bed dominated one


end of the room, and a heavy wooden table the other end. She pushed him down onto the


table. She tightened the chain by another foot or so, pulling his legs up and making an


effective hogtie. Two short lengths of chain locked the spreader bar and collar to the


table, leaving him enough slack to wriggle about a bit, but no more.


    She took a pair of big, sharp scissors and spent five minutes cutting his clothes


off him. His body was nothing special - he obviously was not a man who spent much time


down the gym. Still, he wasn't really anywhere near fat, at least not yet. Maire dropped


the rags into a bin in the corner and used the remote to flip the TV on and start up the


DVD. It was a home movie showing the results of last month's hunt. "Enjoy the show," she


said. "Think of it as a foretaste of what's in store for you." She walked out, leaving


him to watch alone.


    In the living room, she turned the TV on and switched to a feed from downstairs.


She had four web cams in the basement - cheap ones, but they gave a reasonable picture.


She snuggled into the leather couch and watched him watching her work.


    The DVD was one of her favourites. She had no way to force him to watch it. She'd


tried a few things on past hunts, but short of actually stapling his eyelids to his


forehead there was nothing that was practical. Still, she would be prepared to bet that


he would look.


    She let him stew while she relaxed; she had done it! She was reasonably tall for a


woman, and unlike the prey she did spend time in the gym. Still, she had no illusions at


all about her ability to take on even an unfit man in a fair fight. She was smaller,


weaker, probably had slower reactions... and she'd beaten him! She'd thought through his


advantages, come up with a plan that negated them, and executed it perfectly. She


stretched sensuously on the couch, almost delirious with glee. She was getting really


good at this!


    For the first time tonight, time was working for her rather than him. The more time


he spent hogtied like that, the more exhausted he would get and the more rested she would


get. She gave him a full hour, watching him carefully on the TV to make sure he didn't


get himself in any trouble - hogties could be dangerous. After about an hour she went


down to the basement, making sure her heels were clattering as loudly as possible to


announce her arrival. She turned off the DVD and started up the video camera.


    "What did you think of that then?" she asked. He wriggled and made a muffled


grunting noise, all his bondage and gag would allow him. She decided to take the gag out.


The house was far enough away from the neighbours that he wasn't going to be able to call


for help, she only really used the thing because it tended to frighten her victim and


because it made his jaw hurt like hell after a while.


    Marie always wondered how the prey would react when he got his first chance to


talk. Sometimes he would be intimidated into silence; sometimes he would try to reason


with her, or offer her money to let him go. On occasion he would even try and threaten


her. This time, he begged.


    "Please don't hurt me," he gasped as she removed the gag. His voice was hoarse, and


she wondered how dry his mouth must be by now. "Oh god, please don't do those things to


me. Oh please, oh god, oh please don't, I'll do anything..."


    "There's only one thing I want you to do for me," she said, bending down to put her


face inches from his. Her gaze held him transfixed. She felt like she was draining the


will out of him with her eyes, and the feeling was glorious. "I want you to suffer. And


that's just what you are going to do."


    She released the chain linking the collar to the spreader bar and tossed it aside.


He groaned as his stiff limbs stretched, and she used a padlock to fasten the spreader


bar to the table. She went to her equipment rack and removed a heavy riding crop.


    She slashed it across his backside, using all of her strength. A livid red stripe


began to well up on his pale skin and he jerked against his bonds, yelling out in pain.


He began to plead some more and she smiled, knowing the camera was catching it all. She


was always the same at this point. After so much planning and care, so much enforced


patience, she always had a burning need to let loose. She never counted the strokes,


never paced herself. She simply hit him again and again, as hard and as fast as she could


for as long as she could. Within a dozen strokes he was sobbing and screaming in agony,


but the sounds merely drove her on in her relentless assault. Even more than the


abduction itself, the first whipping was a declaration of ownership, an act of posession.


With each frenzied slash she was declaring to the universe that he truly belonged to her,


that he was her property to do with as she wished. She worked her way from his arse down


his thighs and back up again until bright red weals crisscrossed every inch of skin and


he was a mass of blood and rapidly developing bruises. The heat built within her pussy


with every crack, driving her towards orgasm. With a final flurry of blows she came


explosively, quivering so hard that she practically collapsed on top of him. She lay


there, feeling the warmth of his blood and the cold of his sweat on her bare abdomen. She


could feel his muscles trembling beneath her, every move communicated as in a lover's


embrace.


    When she recovered she moved to his head, stripping the skin-tight leather shorts


off and kicking them away followed closely by the panties. She pulled his head up by a


handful of hair and rammed his face into her crotch. "Lick me out," she hissed, "or


you'll get that again and more."


    Cowed with fear now, he licked frantically at her pussy. He was actually quite good


at this, she decided. She snapped orders at him - "kiss it, lick there, higher up, not so


fast, go deeper into there..." each order was punctuated with another strike of the crop


on his back to urge him on. She was treating him as nothing more than a living machine,


an appliance designed to give her pleasure. This desire to dominate had been with Marie


for as long as she could remember. For much of her life she had supressed it, struggled


to live as society dictated that a woman should. But her dark desires had grew and grew,


exerting a terrible pressure that she was ultimately powerless to resist.


    When she was ready she turned and spread her ass cheeks, presenting her anal bud to


him. He hesitated, and she walked around and treated his ass to another two dozen strokes


of the crop, ignoring the soreness in her shoulder. After that he was practically begging


to be allowed to slide his tongue up and down the crack of her ass, running it around the


puckered skin of her anus and then probing the ring of muscle at her instruction. She


fingered her clit as he worked his way deeper and deeper, until she climaxed violently


again.


    She had begun by entering into relationships, both professional and personal, with


submissives. It was easy, and it was good money, but she quickly became disillusioned.


The men she found always had so many limits, so many rules and demands! They wanted to


negotiate everything, they wanted boundaries and limits and safewords. She found herself


increasingly upset and angry at it all. She had abandoned the lifestyle, moved away to a


new place where nobody knew her, and after a lot of careful thought had embarked on her


new life.


    She walked slowly up and down the table, massaging her upper arm and shoulder


absently as she inspected the damage she had wrought. His thighs and arse were rapidly


turning a lovely shade of blue and purple. She watched a few trickles of blood slide down


to the table top, drying in the cold air of the rape room. He was quieter now, whimpering


soflty rather than sobbing. Now and again a powerful tremor would course through his body


as it fought against the damage she had inflicted. She reached out grazed her fingers


across one of the weals on his skin and her squealed and jumped a good six inches to the


side, almost throwing himself off the edge of the table. She laughed, drinking in the


fear radiating from him before she dragged him back into position.


    Marie moved the camera, positioning it closer to the table and changing the angle.


She climbed up onto the table and placed her boot heel above his abused backside, putting


the heel against his anus. "It's only fair, honey," she said. "You penetrated my hole,


I'm going to do the same to you." She shoved the heel into his anus, making him cry out


again. She drove it in and out, fucking him with her boot while he groaned. "Ooo, you


like that, don't you honey?"


    "God no," he cried, finding his voice again. "Oh god please, oh god, oh god..." he


muttered it over and over, a mantra without meaning. She clambered down and picked up a


heavy leather strap from her equipment rack. She slashed it down onto his ass and he


screamed.


    "For a moment there," she said pleasantly as she slashed the strap down again and


again, "I thought you contradicted me. You didn't do that, did you?"


    "Oh god, please..."


    "Did you?" she insisted, slashing the strap down again. His ass cheeks were turning


almost black. "I can't believe that a fucking worm like you would actually contradict ME.


Not when you are in the position you are in, and I am in the position I am in."


    "No! Oh please no, I didn't say anything wrong, you were right, oh please, you're


always right..."


    "Good. That's the spirit." She pulled his head up by the hair and leaned in,


practically touching noses as she stared into his eyes. "I am your god now. If you have


any prayers, pray to me. For all the good it will do you." She went and picked up the


leather harness and her biggest strap-on dildo. She stepped into his view, buckling the


huge black dick around her waist so that he could see exactly what she was about to do.


He stared at it, dazed, hardly daring to believe what must surely be coming. She poured a


quantity of lubricant onto the dildo, making it glisten menacingly in the bright neon


lights.


    "I'm going to rape you now," she announced. The words alone sent a thrill through


her. "See how big it is? Fourteen inches long, two and a half wide. I'm going to push


this into your asshole and I'm going to shove it in and out, in and out, in and out...


feel free to struggle, to fight against it, because the more you fight, the more it will


hurt. And as you know by now, I'm all about the hurt. By the time I've finished you'll


feel like a boatload of sailors just got through fucking you."


    She unchained him from the table, leaving the cuffs and spreader on, and shoved his


body around so he was bent over the edge. Even at full strength he wouldn't have been


able to put up much of a fight, but the night's exertions left him helpless against her.


She could do anything with him now, anything at all. Just as it should be.


    She put the dildo to his abused anus and shoved it in without any preamble, putting


her full strength and weight behind it. There was a distinct popping noise as the head


burst through, splitting his sphincter muscle and sending a lance of new agony through


his abused body. She started working the huge dildo in and out energetically, enjoying


the feel of the base against her clitoris. He fought as much as he could, managing to


thrash about as she impaled him inch by inch, but weakened as he was, with his hands and


legs bound, his struggles did little more than spur her on. She could see his buttocks


tightening as he clenched with all his might in a futile attempt to prevent the


intrusion. She really had to work her pelvis to overcome the resistance, but it only


increased the pressure on her clit and made it even more pleasurable for her. She kept


pumping in and out, the excitement of sodomising him so brutally sending ripples of bliss


through her pussy and driving her to her third orgasm.


    "Best thing about being a woman?" She said as she drove into him again and again.


"I can go on for as long as I like. Nothing to stop me, nothing in the world. How long


would be good for you? An hour... two hours?"


    She accelerated the rhythm, masturbating herself against the base of the dildo as


she pushed it into him. She truly loved buggering a man with her strap on, the


combination of pain and sex was absolutely delicious. As she had been with the crop, she


was relentless. She hadn't been lying, she spent a lot of time in the gym working on her


legs and abdomen precisely to build up her endurance for this. She kept on and on,


driving herself to the edge of yet another orgasm... she was so close... the cries and


moans of the prey began to blend with her own moans of pleasure as she crashed into a


shattering series of convulsions, her strongest orgasm yet. She smashed the dildo home


with all her strength, ramming every last millimetre into him as she came fiercely.


    She pulled the dildo out, the head popping through his sphincter. A trickle of


thick dark blood drooled off the end of it and she smiled, amused. It looked like she had


cum inside him! She held the heavy black dildo there, resting lightly against his anus


whilst she recovered her breath. Then with no warning she rammed it back into him,


eliciting another scream. Well she had promised him an hour after all... she fucked him


relentlessley, brutally, musing that it must seem to him as if it was his entire world


was nothing but thrust after thrust after thrust.


    Finally she pulled out for real, panting from the exertion, grinning as she saw the


shit and blood smeared over the dildo, then walked around and presented it before his


mouth. "Look, you made a mess," she said. "Clean it off."


    He began to cry again, which sent another little shiver of pleasure through her,


but he didn't protest - he'd learned that lesson by now. He licked the end of her dildo


tentatively, then spat it on the floor in reflexive disgust.


    "How DARE you!" She screamed. She grabbed a handful of hair and rammed the dildo


into his mouth. "You spit on MY floor? You dare SPIT on MY floor!" She slid it into his


throat and he choked, bucking wildly against her grip. But it was no use, he had no


leverage, and his muscles were too sore from the bondage and the beatings he had endured.


She rammed the dildo into the back of his throat, feeling him convulsing as he tried to


vomit. Heedless she pushed deeper, twisting his head to one side so she could watch his


throat bulging as the gigantic intruder pushed home. She fucked his throat for a while,


watching his face turn red as he ran short of oxygen. When she judged that he was about


to pass out she pulled the dildo free. He gasped, practically dragging air into his lungs


in a ragged breath. She gave him barely a moment before twisting his head around,


pressing the dildo to his lips again. "Now fucking lick it CLEAN," she barked, "and you


will swallow every last little bit of your filth or I will do things to you that you


won't believe!"


    He lapped away at the dildo, dry heaving now and again but too terrified to stop.


Once she thought he actually threw up in his mouth, only to force himself to swallow it


again. She laughed out loun, delighted.


    When she was satisfied with his efforts she stalked off, leaving him snivelling on


the desk in a heap while she stepped out of the harness. She walked back slowly, taking


her time and enjoying his utter terror.


    "On your knees," she snapped. He struggled off the bench and dropped down


awkwardly. She admired his posture. The spreader bar meant he couldn't close his knees at


all, and his scrotum dangled beautifully. Without a word of warning, she launched a kick


into his balls. He shrieked and collapsed, rolling over and over, unable to cluch at his


aching balls because of the solid metal cuffs which held him securely. She waited it out,


then pointed at the floor before her. "On your knees."


    He almost refused, but she glanced at the crop on the table and he struggled back


into position. She sent another kick towards his balls, only to stop at the last moment.


He flinched so badly he actually fell over, making her laugh out loud. "On your knees!"


She giggled. He got himself back into position and she fired another kick into his balls,


this time not holding back at all. He collapsed again; now she gave him no time to


recover, following and kicking him in the balls again as he desperately tried to twist


his body to shield himself. With his hands behind his back and his knees spread it was


hopeless. She followed as he thrashed around the room, launching kick after brutal kick


into his crotch. He tried to beg between screams, but again she was unyielding. His


scrotum was turning blue, purple, almost black in parts. By the time she finished he


couldn't even struggle, he just lay in a crumpled heap and jerked spastically at each


kick.


    She went and brought the camera in for some good close views of his badly damaged


ball sac. They were swollen to an impressive size, and she wondered what it would feel


like for him to cum right now.


    She dragged him to the wall by his hair, wincing at the growing soreness in her own


limbs. A heavy chain hung fra bolt embedded in the wall, and she padlocked it to his


collar and stepped back, tired at her exertions. One last detail... she stood over him


and squatted about half way down, straddling his head. Spreading her pussy lips with her


fingers, she let loose a stream of piss which hit him right in the face. Moving her


pelvis around sent the stream back and forth across his face. She got quite a bit in his


open mouth, causing him to gag again. She grinned with pride - she was getting better at


that these days.


    She retrieved the ball gag and buckled it in place. It wasn't likely he would be in


any condition to make much noise tonight, but no sense taking chances. She turned to the


camera and gave it a big theatrical wink. "Well, I enjoyed the hell out of that! How


about you?" She asked with a satisfied grin.


    She turned the camera off and smiled down on her victim. Her lust was completely


spent, she felt only a soft afterglow, a deep sense of satisfaction at the wreck of a


Human being she had created. She flipped the lights out and headed upstairs.


    We both need to get our rest, she mused as she headed for a hot shower and then


bed. It's going to be a long day tomorrow...








   






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