Cage by Nazgul "What on earth is that!" I cursed. My live-in house maid had entered my workroom silently and was looking over my shoulder at the computer screen. On it was a photo from my bondage collection. It showed a naked woman in a cage. I swivelled round, to find myself nose-to-tit with a large, full pair of breasts straining at a thin woollen sweater. I had taken on Mary after I became widowed and she had been with me for about six months. She lived in two rooms on the first floor of the rather large house I had acquired some years before and looked after the place -cleaning, shopping, meals, you name it. I paid her quite well, she was pleasant and did a good job, so I didn't particularly want to lose her. I put my brain into top gear. "Research", I said, succinctly. I thought she would swallow this, since I was a university research scientist. "Research into what?" she asked? "That looks very uncomfortable, and she's naked! And she can't move, poor girl!" True enough, the girl in the picture was kneeling in a very small cage made of what looked like scaffolding rods. Her feet touched the bars at one end and her head the other. Her torso was parallel to the ground, breasts hanging free and her arms were hooked up behind her back and over one of the top cross bars of the cage. Her wrists were pulled down the other side of the bar and tied together by a strap that run under her belly Her face was hidden by a mass of curly hair falling around her head. One thing was for sure - she wasn't going anywhere! "The effect of restraint on the female orgasm," I replied, looking her straight in the eyes. She flushed. "What does that mean?" I sighed. "Mary, sit down, I'll try to explain it. You see, it is a well-known fact that many so-called frigid women are not frigid at all. It would be more correct to say that they are hung-up about sex. At some time, often in childhood or their early teens, they have had a bad experience or they have had parents, teachers and so-on who have warned them about sex. This has had a psychological effect on them, they're scared stiff of sex, so they stay away from it. That's why people think they are frigid." "But what's that got to do with her?" pointing to the screen. "Well, there are a series of scientific experiments designed to show that this phenomenon really exists. I came across it on the Net and got interested, so I started doing some investigating of my own." "But that's not your speciality." "No, it isn't, but you should know that one thing about researchers is that they are incurably inquisitive. The subject interested me, so I got into it. Did you know that when one of these 'frigid' women is tied up and given an orgasm, the degree of intensity of the orgasm is five to ten times greater than that of an ordinary one?" "But how do they know that?" "Very simple, they ask for volunteers." "But if they're frigid, surely they won't volunteer!" "You're quite right, they rarely do, most of the volunteers are perfectly ordinary young women. But they all say the same thing, it's the greatest experience they have ever had." "But she's not having an...a..." "An orgasm?" She nodded, flushing again. "No, she's not, that photo is just one of the hundreds I have collected from the Net, showing women in bondage. I want to see what all the possibilities are." You mean you've got other photos like that?" I nodded and clicked the mouse, showing one of a girl taped to an X-shaped cross. The next one was a women tied to a chair, legs wide apart. I clicked back to the cage, and then looked at Mary. She was still flushed and the tips of her nipples were beginning to show through the thin sweater. It was obvious that the photos were doing something to her. "Anyway," I said, jokingly, "you've got nothing to worry about, you'd never fit into that cage. And even if you could, I doubt you're supple enough to be fastened up like that." Mary was 32, about 5ft 9 and very well-built. She stared at me. "Of course I am!" she said, almost angrily. Apart from the housework, she did the gardening and, in her off-time, when for long bike rides. Then she realised what she had just said and flushed even more deeply. I just shook my head in disbelief. "Mary, I'd bet you a month's wages that, supposing we had a cage like that, you couldn't fit into it in the same position as that girl in the photo." "I bet I could!" she flared up. "You be surprised how supple I am." At this point I started getting ideas! "OK, I'll take you up on that. I'll build a cage to those dimensions and if you can take up that position in it, I'll give you an extra month's wages. If you can't, you'll have to work for a month without getting paid. And I'll bet that's one wager you won't take on!" "Yes I will! If you build the cage, I'll get in it. But on one condition, not naked." "Not naked, but not completely clothed," I upped the ante. "If you tried that in jeans the tissue would hinder you. The bet is you do it in bra and panties. OK?" She chewed her lip. It was obvious she wasn't keen on having me see her in that state of undress. I should point out that Mary was an orphan, brought up in a Roman Catholic orphanage by nuns, and, from what I had seen of her, she was one of the 'frigid' women I had mentioned. Since she started working for me she had had no visits, never went out at night, no mention of any men in her life. At last she said, "Well, alright, but no funny stuff, mind. I get in, get into that position, then I get out, nothing more." "That's OK by me," I answered. .................. I quickly got to work. I ordered some lengths of heavy-duty aluminium rod and multi-way connectors from a firm that supplies the university with what can only be called scaffolding, used to hold big free-standing notice-boards at eye level. I used a tape measure to size-up Mary's back, telling her that we would have to have a cage the right size, since it was impossible to know how tall was the girl in the photo. I took all this up to a large, empty room in the top storey and started building. It took me a couple of days to get it to my satisfaction and when it was finished, all burnished metal, it looked good and very solid. "Mary, I've finished building the cage, it's all ready for you," I told her over supper. She flushed - again. "Of course," I added, "If you want to back out that's up to you - but remember, you'll lose a month's wages if you do." That did it. "I never said I was going to back out," she snapped. "When?" "Why not this evening, around 10, give you time to digest," I suggested. And not give you time to think up a reason for backing out, I added to myself. She agreed, reluctantly, I thought. She'd backed herself into a corner and couldn't see a way out. Later, I hear the shower running and smiled to myself - she was obviously getting herself all nicely clean and powdered for the attempt. She hadn't seen the cage and when I let her into the room, dressed in a house-robe, she gasped. "It looks, I don't know, wicked, somehow." It did, too, the metal reflecting the overhead light of its burnished surface. "It can't be wicked," I reasoned, "it's an inanimate object, it doesn't have any feelings about you, me or anyone else, one way or the other." "Well..." "Come on, off with your robe, we don't want to be here all night, do we." Reluctantly, she undid the belt, took off her robe and dropped it on a chair. Her skin was very white, almost the same colour as the heavy bra that enclosed her breasts completely. Her panties were pretty much all-enveloping, too, nothing sexy about them at all, just plain utilitarian underwear, designed to be used, not attract. She was, nevertheless, quite something. Not skinny, but not fat either. Nicely proportioned would be the term. Give me your hand," I said. She held it out and I started to buckle a strap around her wrist. She immediately began to pull away. "Oh, come on, Mary. This is part of the bet. Exactly the same position, we agreed. And that means your arms over the bar and your wrists fastened together with a strap under your stomach. Otherwise, you lose!" She hesitated, then let me finish fixing it in place. I put another one round her other wrist. Then I opened the hinged top of the cage. "Right, in you go," I said. She hung back, fearfully for a moment, then moved slowly over to the cage. She looked at it. Then she lifted one leg and put it inside. Then the other. I had placed some thick rubber padding on the bar on which she would kneel. She had to place her feet right at the end of the cage in order to get her knees on it. Finally she was in the right position. She bent over, hugging her knees with her hands and arms. I closed the lid and fastened it. I saw her flinch slightly as she heard the metallic 'Click' of the lock. "Now the difficult part. You've got to get your arms up behind you and through the hole and over the bar." And it wasn't easy. She ended up with her head touching the floor, bent over as far as she could go, while I helped her poke her hands up through the opening. When she had got her arms right through I pulled them down back into the cage so that the insides of her elbows rested on the bar. I fastened the strap to one wrist, flicked it across under her and then went round to the other side of the cage. I fished for the end of the strap, got hold of it, pulled her other wrist down and fed the strap through the one on her wrist. Then I started pulling. She was raised so that her bare back was pressing against the top cross-bars to the lid, the strap pulled tightly in to her belly, flattening it. "That's enough," she gasped; "It hurts" I stopped tightening the strap and stepped back. She had won her bet, that was for sure, and it was money well spent, she looked perfect. Her long, jet-black hair fell done around her bent head, her backside was raised up and her heavy breasts hung down, full, straining against the thin material of the bra. Her nipples were fully developed, clearly visible as protruding little points through the cotton. Turning, I picked up the digital camera I had placed, hidden under a cloth on the table, focused and pressed the shutter release. The sudden glare of the flash alerted her to what I was doing. "No!", she yelled. "No photos! That wasn't part of the bet. Stop it!" "But Mary," I said calmly, "We need a proof that you won your bet, don't we? And in any case, I promise that I won't show them to anyone. I'll give you one set and I'll have the other. I'm using a digital camera, so there isn't any development needed, so no-one else will ever see them. OK?" After a moment, "Well, alright, then, but you promise?" "I promise." She shook her head to ensure that her face was completely hidden by the long cascading hair. I moved round the cage, racking off shots as I went. When I had finished I put the camera down, went over to the cage and ran the tip of my finger down her spine, gently, until it caught in the elastic of her panties. I tugged slightly. "Ah, NO!" she screamed. "You promised not to! Don't touch me! Let me out!" "Don't worry, I promised, and I won't do anything you don't want me to. But tell me, this is not unpleasant, is it?" And with that I put my other hand through the bars and caressed her smooth back. "Is it?" "Noooo," she said, in a half-groan. I kept caressing her for several minutes, feeling the tremors run through her body as she became more and more aroused, despite herself. When I figured she was well on the way, I took my hands away from her and said, "Well, I guess it's time to let you out of there." She shook her head, but said nothing. I undid the strap, then the lock and pulled her arms up, then opened the lid, it was easier that way. She remained in her bent-over position for a minute or two, then slowly stood up, her face still hidden by her hair. Without saying anything I picked her robe up off the chair and held it out for her to get into. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and I lifted it to cover her shoulders. She kept her head bent as she knotted the belt, stepping out of the cage. "Let's go downstairs and have a drink," I suggested, holding open the door. She walked out on bare feet and I followed her down the stairs. Seated across the kitchen table from each other, two glasses of wine between us, I handed her a wad of notes. "Well, you won the bet," I said. She took the notes and placed them on the table without really looking at them. "I'm curious. What was it like, Mary?" "Weird!" "Weird?" "yes, weird. You know, strange, sort of scary." "Were you frightened?" "Yes. I didn't know if you'd keep your promise." "What do you mean." "You know, you promised just to put me in the cage, then let me out, nothing else. I didn't know if you would." "You must have thought about that before you did it. So why did you go through with it? For the money?" "Well, there was that, but not really." "Why, then?" "I don't know." "Oh, come on, you must have had a reason!" There was a long silence, during which she kept her eyes fixed firmly on her glass on the table. Finally, she said, "I was scared, but I wanted to know what it was like to feel helpless, vulnerable, exposed." "And what was it like?" "I don't know, it's difficult to explain. Frightened, and at the same time excited." "So it wasn't all bad, then?" "No, no it was .... well, weird. I can't explain." "You don't have to, I can guess. Now you begin to see what I was telling you about the orgasm while in bondage. Not that you had one of course! From what I have learned, it's a mixture of all those things. The helplessness, the fear, the anticipation of what might happen, the excitement, all those things combine to make the adrenaline pump, and then...Bam! - explosion. Well, you won, you really are pretty supple." I drained my glass. "I'm off to bed, see you in the morning. 'Night." And I left her sitting at the table. Frustrated and, I hoped, hooked! ............. Next day I hooked the camera in to the computer and stored the photos on the hard disc. Then I printed a set. Nice. Mary came in with my tea at 11. I handed her the photos. She flushed, then sat down and started looking at them. "Well?" She shrugged. I pulled the original photo of the unknown girl in the cage onto the screen. "The position is the same. Only thing is, she's got no clothes on. Makes quite a difference to the finished product, doesn't it?" She nodded. "Do you always wear cotton underwear?" She nodded again. "Why?" She shrugged. "It's comfortable, and it's easy to wash," she said. "Fair enough, but it doesn't do much for you, does it? Pity, you've got a lovely body." Deeper flush. Silence. "You have, really. It's a pity we don't have shots of you like that one," and I pointed at the screen. She said nothing, bent her head. "Tell you what, I'll bet you another month's wages you won't do it again, but naked." Still not looking at me, she shook her head. I sighed. "Pity. I thought you trusted me. Oh well." And with that I turned my back on her and called up a succession of photos of bound, naked women. Mary didn't move, and I could almost FEEL her looking over my shoulder at the screen as the bodies followed, one after another. Finally I heard her get to her feet and leave the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. After lunch Mary collected up the dishes and turned to take them to the machine. As she did so, she said, very quietly, in almost a whisper, "Alright." "Sorry?" "Alright, I'll do it." "When?" She shrugged. "OK, 10 tomorrow evening." She nodded. And that was it. Hooked! I spent the intervening time modifying the cage. At 10 we met outside the room again, she in bare feet and the house-robe. We went in, she took of the robe and put it on the chair, as she had done two evenings previously. She was naked. I slowly placed the straps on her wrists. Once again she got into the cage and knelt down. I pulled her arms up, over the bar, and fastened the strap under her belly, pulling it a little tighter then the last time. She said nothing. I stepped back and looked at her. Now I could see her bare breasts, hanging loosely, full, the nipples pouting. She looked gorgeous - and completely helpless. One of the modifications to the cage allowed me to lift part of the lid, directly above her head. I put my hand in, grasped a handful of hair and gently pulled her head back. "Open your mouth," I said, quietly. I don't know if she knew what was coming next, but she obediently opened it anyway. I took the red rubber O-ring gag out of my pocket and, holding it low so that she couldn't see it, forced it between her teeth. The minute she felt it she panicked and tried to struggle. Of course, she couldn't, the only thing she could possibly move was her head and I kept a firm grip on her hair. The ring was a bit big, so when I had managed to get it in place, behind her teeth, there was no way she could spit it out. I pulled her hair up into a pony-tail and tied it with a piece of string. Then I fastened the straps of the gag firmly behind her neck and let go of her hair. Her head dropped. I shut the lid of the cage. For a moment there was complete silence. Mary hung from her bent arms, head bowed. Then suddenly, she lifted her head, shook it violently and SCREAMED, as what was happening to her - and undoubtedly what was going to happen to her- got through to her brain. The ring gag only kept her mouth open, it didn't stop any sound, and that scream was shrill, high-pitched, deafening. Not to worry, I had foreseen this eventuality and was prepared for it. Right in front of Mary's bowed head was a cross-bar, and on it was a 4-way connector. I picked up a shortish alu bar, the end of which finished in a plastic plug, shaped like a bullet. I opened a tube of KY jelly, rubbed some of it over the bar and then slid it into the connector. Next, I pulled Mary's head up by her hair so that the bar was pointing straight at her open mouth. Her next scream turned to a gurgle as the bar slid smoothly into her mouth and half-way down her throat. Still holding her hair, I picked up a spanner and tightened all the nuts until the bar was fixed absolutely rigidly to the cross-bar, then I let go. Her head didn't move - it couldn't, with her throat impaled on the bar. Pulling up a low stool, I sat down in front of her. Her head was tilted up so that she was looking directly into my eyes. I looked into hers. "You forgot something, Mary," I said gently. "You forgot to make me promise not to do anything other than put you in the cage and then let you out. Either that, or you deliberately didn't ask me to. Trouble is, I don't know which it is, and given the noise you were making, I don't feel it safe to take that bar out of your mouth, you might disturb the neighbours;" Not that there was much chance of that, the nearest house was several hundred yards away. "Now, if it was deliberate, you did it for a reason. Could it be that you want to find out if you are really frigid or not?" It the state she was in, she couldn't even nod or shake her head. I waited a minute before going on. "Nothing to say for yourself? Oh well, I'll just have to decide for you. But first, I should tell you that I left something out of my explanation about the augmented female orgasm. It's true that fear and excitement play there part, but there's another element, too. Pain." She just stared at me, her eyes about as wide as they would go. "Yes, you heard me right, my dear, pain. Quite a lot, actually. Because the more there is, the more intense the orgasm. And I hope to give you the most intense orgasm of your life. Which, of course, means quite a lot of pain. And not just any old where, but in the most intimate parts of that lovely body. When I've finished, you'll wonder however you lived without it, believe me. You'll never be satisfied with anything less. Which means that when you beg me for an orgasm, you'll be begging me for the pain as well. In fact, you'll become what I believe is known as a pain-slut. Apparently, it's like a drug, you won't be able to get enough of it. Of course, I'll do my very best to satisfy you, I have a very inventive mind, I'm sure I can think up lots of different ways of hurting you, so you won't get bored by the same old thing, over and over again." She couldn't make any signs, but the fear in her eyes was all too apparent, she was really scared. Quite rightly. "Time's going on, we'd better get started, don't you think? Or rather, I'd better get started - you don't seem to be in a position to do anything much at the moment. Except feel."
Cage 2 Getting up from the stool, I walked round to the side of the cage. Viewed from that angle, I could see a number of possibilities that I might want to explore. But first, I wanted to make sure that there was no way she could move. To start with, I fitted straps to her legs, just above the knees, so that I could draw her legs wide open by tying the ends to the bars of the cage. I had made the cage wider than necessary just for this, and when I had finished, Mary's legs were really stretched out wide. I walked round behind her. She had told me that she wanted to feel what it was like to be exposed - well, now she knew. The cheeks of her ass were pulled wide apart, showing the closed orifice between them, and below it the partly-opened lips of her sex. I put my hand in and dragged a finger-nail down the crack, across her anus and watched the twitch of the muscles as the sensation flowed up into her brain and back down to produce the reaction. She now knew that she was totally exposed and, worse, there was absolutely nothing she could do to prevent me doing whatever I liked to her. Very, very vulnerable. All she could do was wait, and anticipate, and fear! Another bar, like the one in her mouth, was lubricated and pushed through another 4-way on the vertical bar just behind her. I pushed it on through until the bullet-shaped tip was nearly touching her anus. The bar was about an inch and a half in diameter, big enough to hurt but not so big as to cause any damage. I pushed the tip up against her anus. She tried to wriggle, but her hip-joints were blocked by the position of her wide-spread legs. I waited. She knew now what was coming - and she also knew that there was nothing in the world she could do to stop it. I pushed a little, and heard muffled sounds coming from the other end. She obviously didn't want that intruder inside her. Pity, it was going in anyway. Another push and I saw the anal muscle begin to spread, accommodating the bullet. Another push, then another, a stifled scream, and in it went. That had to be very uncomfortable! I pushed a good eight inches of the bar up inside her rectum, then tightened the bolts on the 4-way with the spanner. Mary was now really pinned in place but not exactly suffering - yet! I'd modified the cage specifically for this purpose. I undid the strap under her belly, pulled her arms up through the opening and attached her wrists together. Then ,by undoing a few bolts, the lid came off and the sides fell flat. A rough cord was knotted loosely round the bar in her anus and then attached to the wrist straps and pulled tight. If she tried to move her arms at all, she would pull the knot against her anal muscle - a minor irritation, but everything helps! I used two more of the rough cords on her breasts. They were hanging down vertically and it was a simple matter to make a slip-knot, hold it around the base of a breast and then pull it tight. Really tight - and then wind the whole length of the cord around it. Then the other one. The result was eye-catching - instead of two hanging breasts, she now had two balls of tightly-stretched flesh protruding down from her chest, balls that were changing quite quickly through red to light purple. They would start aching soon, and the ache would gradually get worse and worse. I drew a finger-nail hard across one of them - I knew this would feel like the skin was being cut with a knife, with all those nerve-endings wide awake - and heard the muffled yell well up around the throat-bar. I stepped back, picked up the camera and racked of a series of shots for posterity. In the view-finder she was quite something, a lovely body held rigidly in place by the two penetrating bars and the knee-cords, and nothing else. Putting down the camera, I fitted straps to her arms, just above the elbows, and then used a cord to pull them together until they were almost touching. This pulled her shoulders back, putting a lot more strain on her breasts, which were now a deeper shape of purple. Next came a wide strap round her neck, and then a Japanese idea - I placed a two-pronged hook in her nostrils, lead the cord from it up over the crown of her head and pushed the end through the neck-strap. Then I pulled it tight, really quite tight. I looked at her. The hook pulled her nose up towards her forehead, opening the nostrils wide, a bit like a pig. It obviously hurt, because tears were rolling down her cheeks. She was trembling, the strain of kneeling there was playing havoc with her muscles. I picked up a nappy pin, the largest one I had been able to find, opened it and showed it to her. "I think you may find this rather unpleasant, Mary," I told her. "I am going to push the point of this through the separation between your two nostrils - the septum - and then do it up. Oh, and I do have other nappy pins, should I need them. I'm sure I can find some interesting places for them!" I didn't need to hold her head steady, the bar did that for me. I place the point of the pin against her septum, as far up it as possible, and slowly, very slowly, pushed it though. She actually managed to scream around the bar. I did it up. That was enough head work, I decided to turn my attentions to the other end. Kneeling down behind her, I started caressing the insides of her thighs, starting above the knees and slowly working my way upwards. By the time my hands were very nearly at the top of her thighs I could see that the lips of her sex were glistening - she was getting turned on, as I had planned. Getting up, I went to the table, picked up a jug and went back to my kneeling position. The jug was full of water with ice-cubes floating in it. In the water was a stainless steel speculum, a big one. I took it out. Carefully, I slid it into her, through the slippery lips of her sex. She didn't exactly buck - she couldn't - but it was not far off it. I pushed it in as far as possible, then squeezed the handle and heard the click as the first tooth of the ratchet engaged. I took a look. Her sex was partly open. Another squeeze, and another. The lips were now well spread out. Two more squeezes and I heard her muffled yells, it was beginning to hurt. Another, and another and she screamed, her sex was now a gaping hole, outlined by the shining steel jaws. I could see into her pink channel. I wondered how much wider the speculum could be opened with tearing anything - there were still three teeth on the ratchet to go. Finally I decide just one more - for the moment. Maybe her muscles would relax with time and I could open it right up a little later. The last squeeze really hurt, she actually managed to wriggle on the bars and I could see the knot of the cord digging into her anal muscle as she tried desperately to free her hands. Not that she could have done anything with them if she had managed too. In fact, this gave me an idea. Getting up, I undid the elbow straps, then the wrist straps, stood back and watched to see what she would do. The muscles numb, her hands dropped to the floor and remained there for a minute or so. Then she lifted them and gingerly touched her breasts, started exploring them. That was not on, I quickly brought the ends of the cords binding her breasts up over her back and tied them there. When she found she couldn't untie the cords, she lifted them further and very gently felt her face, then her nose. Her eyes watered again when she touched the nappy pin. She wouldn't be able to get rid of the nose hook, but she might just have enough courage to undo the pin and pull it out. But no, it hurt too much when she touched it.. Next she rested one hand on the throat bar and put the other down between her legs, exploring. She found the handles of the speculum. Of course, she couldn't see what she was doing, and in addition she had no idea what it was that was hurting her so much down there. She pulled at the handles and screamed - the jaws were held tightly in place by her flesh and there was no way she could get enough leverage to pull the torturing instrument out, even if she could have borne the pain of the steel dragging across the delicate tissues. Finally she put her hand on the floor, using her arm to take some of the weight off her throat, which by now must have been hurting quite badly. I went and sat on the stool in front of her, and looked at her. She lifted her hand off the bar and held it out to me, obviously appealing for - what? To be let go? Probably - that's what I would have done in her place. Who wouldn't? I took her hand and held it. "Poor Mary, you are in a state, aren't you! This is what comes of being inquisitive - and trusting. Let's take an inventory, shall we? Your throat hurts. Your anus hurts. Your nose hurts. You breasts ache. Your sex feels like you are giving birth. In short, you hurt all over, don't you. The trouble is, my dear, I have lots of other ideas I haven't tried out yet, and they will probably hurt even more!" I let go of her hand, which she put back on the bar. She looked at me, her eyes pleading. "However, Mary, I think it must be about time for your first orgasm, don't you?" So saying, I got up, picked up a bullet vibrator and got back down on my knees behind her. I placed the tip of the vibrator in the slit of her sex, just above the handles of the speculum, and switched it on. She jerked. Slowly, alternating light and heavy pressure, I moved it up and down the slit, rubbing it over her clitoris. I saw her other hand leave the floor and grip the throat bar with it, the knuckles white. She went rigid. Then she came. Explosively, but almost silently. The characteristic red flush of the female orgasm spread over her body and she seemed to be trying to hump herself on the anal bar. Her body quivered, strained, slackened, strained again and pearls of liquid seeped down the handles of the stainless steel. It last for what seemed a long time, until at last her body suddenly when completely limp. I decided that that would do for the moment. I closed the speculum and pulled it out of her, undid her breasts - she screamed as the renewed flow of blood re-awakened the nerves in them - and pulled the pin out of her nose. More screams. I undid the nose hook and the neck strap. Next, I led a cord from one wrist strap to the vertical holding the anal bar and tied it tightly so that her hand was between her thighs. I did the same with the other one, but this time so that her arm rested on her back, the cord tied to the vertical above the 4-way. The was no way she move forward off the bar. Finally, I carefully undid the other 4-way and pulled the bar out of her throat. Her torso dropped so that it was resting on the floor - she yelled when her breasts were squashed with her own weight. She didn't say anything, she couldn't, her throat muscles were in no state to allow coherent speech. I sat down beside her and stroked her hair, gently. "You see now, Mary, what I mean, don't you." She moaned quietly. "Admit it, you've never had an orgasm like that in your life. Always assuming, of course, that you've had an orgasm. Have you," She didn't answer. "Maybe you're still a virgin. That would be pretty rare, at your age, these days. Are you?" No answer. "Well after whet you just had done to you, probably not, though there was no blood on the jaws of the speculum." At that point she tried to move forward, off the bar, but her tied hands held her firmly impaled. "It's no good, Mary, you can't get away. And anyway, why would you want to, there's lots more orgasms coming, and you know you liked it - even if you won't admit it - yet. But you will, my dear, you will. You see, young women like you, the so-called frigid ones, once they find out what it's really like, they can't get enough of it, it's as though they're trying to make up for all the years they've lost. It's like a drug. Of course, there is an inconvenient side to it, they need the pain in order to have that earth-stopping climax, they're never satisfied with anything else, once they've experienced it. They hate the pain, but they need it. It works best with the pain they hate most, strangely enough. It's all a question of trial and observation - trying all the different kinds of pain and seeing which one is the worst. That's the one that really turns them on. And that's what we're going to do, you and I, try all the pains and all the different parts of your lovely body, see which one makes you scream loudest. It will take quite a while, but don't worry, we'll get there - eventually. Not tonight though, too much of a good thing, you know. Tomorrow's soon enough - maybe you might think it's too soon!
Cage 3 After the cage, I decided to give Mary a couple of days rest. Apart from a very sore throat, which prevented her from saying much, she had come to no harm from her little adventure. That was what I had planned, you don't break toys you want to play with, do you? That afternoon I told Mary we would have another session that evening. She looked at me and shook her head. "Oh, come on, Mary, you know you like it, even if it does hurt. In fact, you probably can't keep away from it. I'll tell you what, I'll give you your instructions and the time you have to present yourself to me. If you don't come, that's your problem, but you'll only get the one chance - if you don't turn up, I won't touch you again!" She stared at me, and I could guess what was going through her mind. If she came, pain. If she didn't, no more earth-shattering orgasms. She came. She knocked, timidly, on the door and I opened it. She was wearing a thin house-robe and nothing else, except the black silk scarf she had tied across her eyes. I took her by the hand and led her to the centre of the room. I fixed a wide, padded leather strap around each wrist. Then I undid the robe and let it slip to the floor. I held her hands up and attached the wrist-bands to the hook of a small electric hoist, the sort amateur mechanics use for hauling engines out of cars. I pressed the "UP" button on the remote and watched until her arms were well above her head. Bending down, I put more straps around her ankles, then moved her feet wide apart. As I manipulated her, I could feel her trembling. I had got her - she didn't want to be here, but couldn't stay away. I fitted a steel spreader bar between her ankles. It had a 3" diameter ring in the middle. "Open your mouth!" She did and I inserted a stainless steel Jennings dental gag in, fitting it over her teeth. I worked the ratchet until her mouth was wide open and then locked it immovably in place with a tiny padlock. Then I removed the silk scarf. She blinked in the light, then her eyes went wide as she saw it. "It" was a steel bar, set vertically into the floor. About 4ft high, it terminated in around bullet-shaped head. The bar was about 2 1/2" in diameter. She shook her head and made unintelligible sounds. "Aren't you the lucky girl," I laughed. "That's all for you, and no-one else. I expect you can guess what it's for, can't you?" From the look on her face, I figured she had a good idea. I picked up one of the 4 buckets of wet sand that I had brought in and emptied it about 18" to one side of the bar. A second the other side. Then the two others, so that there were two heaps of sand about 7-8" high. While I was doing this I could see Mary out of the corner of my eye, trying desperately to free her hands. She couldn't. "Have you ever heard of Vlad, Mary? He's normally called Vlad the Impaler. I read the story, and I thought we'd try it out, me as Vlad, you as one of his victims. With suitable modifications, of course. I'm going to hoist you up, position you over the bar, then lower you. I think you'll find the experience, shall we say, interesting? But first, I need a cigarette, I'll just go and get one." And I walked out, shutting the door, leaving her with her Nemesis. I didn't really need one, it was a pretext. The longer I left her there, helpless, staring at that steel penetrator, the greater her apprehension would get. I gave her a good half-hour, then went back in. She was staring at the protruding bar like a rabbit at a stoat, terrified. She turned her head as I came in and looked at me, pleading with her eyes. It was my turn to shake my head. "You came of your own free will, Mary, now you take what comes. Sorry, bad pun! But you know what I mean. I just hope, for your sake, you're really not a virgin!" That was the clue, she knew for sure what was going to happen now and went back to struggling to free her hands. I pushed the button and the hoist hauled her up until only the tips of her toes were touching the floor. Her big breasts were flattened on her chest and for a minute I contemplated whipping them, they were in the ideal position, even the undersides were exposed. But I had other things in mind. "OK, here we go!", and I held the button down until the stretcher bar was level with the top of the penetrator. I had fixed the hoist to a steel rail and it was a simple matter to pull her forward until she was vertically over it. She tried to look down, but the position she was in, the weight of her body on her arms, didn't let her. I held the circle in the middle of the bar over the bullet-head and started letting her down. It worked perfectly, the ring slid down the vertical bar, fixing her in position. I stopped the movement when the tip was an inch or so from entering her. Then I smeared some K-Y on it - no point in doing it dry, I wanted her to feel the invasion, not tearing pain. The pain would come a little later. Another press on the button and she felt the tip slide between her lips. She screamed - not in pain but in terror and fright. Another touch and the tip disappeared. Another and the bar was a couple of inches into her. I was fascinated to see the bulge in her belly, just above her mons, that bar was really going to fill her up. I lowered slowly her, an inch at a time, making sure that she got the full benefit of the invasive action. From the look in her eyes, now level with mine, she did! She wasn't struggling any more, she couldn't, her body locked in a straight line between the controlling influences of the stretcher-bar ring, the penetrator and the weight of her body on her wrists. Finally her feet came to rest on the two piles of wet sand. I stopped the hoist. She had half her weight on her feet and half suspended by her wrists. If I'd got it right, the tip was just short of her cervix. Slowly, carefully, I eased the hoist down until all her weight was on her feet. She held herself perfectly still, the screaming silenced. I attached cords tied to two metals eyelets in the floor to her ankle-straps and then released the spreader bar and turned it so that it was at right-angles to the V of her legs. That way, she was free to move her feet a bit, but not to close her legs. I lowered the hoist some more, until her wrists were just above her head. The situation she was in was slowly getting through to her. If she moved her feet, the sand would be forced out from under them and she would sink lower onto the penetrator. There was too much slack in the hoist for her to use her arms to haul herself up. She froze, rigid, willing herself not to move. This was understandable, but not desirable, at least, not from my point of view. And I had prepared for that, too! Grasping one cheek of her ass, I pulled it to one side and slid an inflatable dildo into her rectum. A special one, it had a thin metal collar with a wire attached to it situated just where her anus would grasp it. I pumped it up quickly, so she couldn't push it out. Moving round in front of her, I open her lips, found her clit and started massaging it. When it popped out, I fixed a tiny crocodile clip with another wire to it. The two wires were then plugged in to a TENS machine. Next I played with her nipples until they were erect, then two more crocodiles, plugged into the second channel of the TENS. We were all ready to play. Mary had done a bit of squealing when I fixed the clips, but she settled down quickly. "So far," I told her, "you're not in any pain. Some discomfort from the clips, maybe, but nothing serious. Now I am going to switch on this little machine and see what happens." I started with the dial controlling the channel to her nipples, turning it very slowly. For a moment there was no reaction, until suddenly her eyes widened and she shook her head - Mary was doing a lot of head-shaking, I thought. She was beginning to feel the bite of the voltage into those two very sensitive areas. I turned it some more and she squealed. At the same time she shook her torso, obviously trying to dislodge the clips. Not much chance of that happening. A few volts more and she screamed and shook harder. I looked down. It was working, the movement had worked down to her feet, they were already a little lower in the sand. I backed off on her nipples and poured some power into the second channel. This was the one. She bucked, as though trying to grind the penetrator. I knew that she would be getting fire in her ass and hot sensations in her clit, turning her on. One might just cancel out the other, but which one was anyone's guess. Whatever, her feet twitched and she dropped lower. I switched off both channels and waited to see what would happen. Nothing. OK, so I turned both channels back on and got her nipples hurting and then gave her a quick, high jolt down there. Her head went back and she gave a raucous scream. I switched off. She tried to say something, but the gag made the sounds unintelligible. The piles of sand were by now noticeably lower, the head of the pentrator had to be touching her cervix. Another hard jolt down there and it certainly was, as her feet twitched and then she went rigid, trying to rise up on her toes. "interesting, isn't it, Mary? Just imagine, if there was spike on the end of that thing, what state your insides would be in right now! Lucky for you it isn't a spike. But don't worry, I expect you'll find it interesting anyway." I reached up, and released her wrists. She wasn't expecting this and just stood there for a moment, her hands still above her head. Then she realised what I had done and started to lower them. As she did so, I fed quite a few volts into her nipples. She screamed and her hands flashed down to hold her breasts. I upped the voltage and she screamed louder, squeezing her big breasts as though the squeezing would stop the pain. It didn't. At the same time tremors had run right down to her feet and she sank a little lower. That was when she realised the her guts were hurting her, and why. I switched off, and her hands went down to her belly. She stared at me. She was free - more or less - but there was no way she could get off the pentrator. I gave her clit a few volts and she shook her head - again - and her hands moved lower. As soon as they did so, I gave it to her in the nipples, hard. She screamed, really loudly, and her hands went back up. Of course, when they got to her breasts, I gave her a hard jolt in her clit. Poor Mary! Between her nipples and her clit and anus, she was hurting, and at the same time trying not to move, because if she did the bullet would press even harder against her cervix. Between screams she tried to gabble something at me, but it all came out garbled. Not that it would have made any difference if I had been able to understand her! I switched everything off. Her hands went straight up to her mouth, to try to get the gag out, but it was locked and she couldn't open her jaws any wider. Then they went down to her nipples and I could see that she was going to pull the crocodile clips off them. No problem, I gave it to her in her clit. Her hands flashed down there, but I switched off before they arrived. She stared at me, her hands covering her slit. She just didn't know what to do. The pain in her guts was beginning to show on her face, and she didn't dare move her hands in case I shocked her again. Her skin glistened wetly with the sweat caused by the pain, she was one very unhappy young woman. "I think I need another cup of tea", I said and without looking at her I left the room. When I came back, some 15 minutes later, Mary was moaning loudly, her hands pressed flat against her belly. The clips were gone from both her nipples and her clit. "Had enough?" I asked. She nodded frantically. "OK, I'll take you off that nasty thing, but on one condition. You have to promise that when you are off it, you will bend over, untied, legs wide apart, hands holding your ankles, and stay that way while I take you in the anus." She stared at me, horrified. "OK?" She shook her head violently in negation. "Well, I guess I'll just have to go and get another cup of tea while you think about it", and I left the room again. 15 minutes later I was facing her again. "Ready?" I asked. She was moaning loudly, tears running down her cheeks, her hands pressed hard against her belly, obviously in a lot of pain. Slowly, she nodded. "Alright, but I warn you, if you don't do as you promise, I'll put you back on there and leave you all night!" She nodded, frantically. I lift her hands, put the wrist-bands back on and hoisted her off the penetrator. Then I undid her wrists. "Bend over!" Slowly, reluctantly, she bent over, hands going to grasp her ankles, breasts hanging free. I moved behind her and rubbed some KY into her ass. Then I put the tip of my cock against that little brown ring of muscle and pushed. She moaned. I pushed harder and she squealed. Slowly, I wormed my way in. It was hot, and tight, and felt just wonderful. I bent and took hold of her breasts in my hands and plunged a few times. She screamed each time I did so. Then I decided that it would be interesting to hear what she thought about the situation, so I undid the gag and released her jaws. "What's it like, Mary?" I asked. "It hurts!" she gasped. "More than the penetrator? I'll stop, if you like, and put you back on it, if you prefer that? "Oh no, no, please don't!" "Then may I continue?" I asked politely. "Yes". A very quiet 'yes', in a tiny voice. I withdrew a bit and then plunged. She screamed. "Too much noise" I said. "I think you'd be better back on the penetrator if you're going to keep on like that." "No, please, I'm sorry, I won't scream again, I promise." To find out if she was telling the truth, I gave her a few more heavy movements. She did a lot of gasping, but didn't actually scream. I reached out and picked up a big vibrator from the nearby table and switched it on. "Take hold of this." She did so. "Now rub your clit with it, and keep rubbing until I tell you to stop, or else!" She pressed the vibrator into her slit. I could feel the vibrations in my cock, it felt wonderful. Slowly at first, then ever quicker, her hips started to move as the vibrations got through to her. Her breath became raucous. She no longer seemed to feel my thrusts as she built up to a climax. And then, suddenly, she was coming. Her head went back and she screamed, but this time it was with pleasure. As she did so her anal muscle clenched and unclenched rapidly, providing my cock with fantastic sensations, until I came too. I stood there, my cock deep inside her, and wondered just how I was going to follow this!
Review This Story || Email Author: Nazgul