BRUTAL BYTES

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BRUTAL BYTES Page 10

by Roger Hastings


  “And one more detail. I don’t want this fascinating game to be over too soon, so I’ve added a fiendish touch to prevent you from ejaculating too early.”

  I could almost imagine Big Dick giggling.

  “Those wired fingers the woman will masturbate you with are equipped to give you random, spontaneous and painful electric shocks to momentarily numb your cocks. But they have insulation where they touch their hands so they won’t hurt the women. It’s also just possible the voltage may cruelly increase until it is high enough to really hurt like hell.” He exhaled a long, jubilant sigh. “Are you ready, females? Then...begin!”

  My wired female was a cute, brown-haired, woman; short, about thirty-five years old, and definitely on the slightly plump side—tempting my sex drive just where I am weakest. Her round face was so sweet, with dumpling cheeks, a cute pug nose, and cheery brown eyes. A curl of her hair swept down across her forehead, complimenting her long, dark eyelashes. She grinned as she held out her electrified fingers hovering over my erect cock and winked wickedly.

  Damn her! She’s going to enjoy fooling around with my hopelessly unprotected cock!

  I recognized her, Frieda Ingram, now identified by the number painted on her pleasingly plump belly; F-0906. She is—or was—the talented German experimentalist in our research center—or what used to be our research center. I’d never been close to her before, so had no opportunity to dream of lusting after her lovely body and fondling the curvaceous cushions of her ass. Normally, I’d have to pass up a chance to fuck her, but now, in this bizarre, sexually hypnotic environment, her voluptuous body started my hormones churning in my groin.

  I didn’t recognize the other woman. She was short, with a slightly overweight, but sensually proportioned body—she was probably newly added to our staff. I guessed she was about twenty years old, favored with expansively overabundant, swaying breasts. They were made even more prominent and sexually stimulating by the breast harness she wore, emphasizing how conveniently undefended, vulnerable, and user-friendly her protruding breasts were. She grinned, bending over me and began dragging those twin mounds of paradise back and forth across my face.

  The sensation sprouted goose-bumps on my chest and belly, and triggered a yearning in my groin that was going to make my resistance to cumming impossible. Here was a man’s woman, oozing that aura of carnal wisdom and a genius for unfurling her body’s sensual endowments to stimulate a male’s perpetual sex needs.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered, “but I don’t want to be the one who’s punished. I’ve been hurt so much every day, and I just can’t...” she swallowed the lump in her throat.

  Frieda stood between my thighs, grinning down at my unprotected, captive cock. “Well, it’s going to be fun making someone else hurt for a change.” She lifted the pitcher over my hips and slightly tipped it. “Watch out,” she said with a giggle, “Better be careful to not let this hot stuff spill onto over cock, that’s sure to hurt like hell!” She gave me an impish grin and tipped the pitcher more, slowly pouring the steaming oil on my quivering manhood. “Oops!” She smiled wickedly with mock sympathy. “I guess I got a bit careless and spilt a bit of hot oil on your cock. Damn! There it goes again. I’m so clumsy!”

  “AUGH! YAGH! I struggled against my straps, desperately straining to protect my cock from that hot-hot-HOT, stinging stream of oil. The intense pain softened and shrank my cock.

  Frieda pretended to feel guilty while she enjoyed how much pain she was giving me, but she still continued pouring. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” A crocodile tear trickled down her cheek as the burning stream of oil chased around my frantically wagging cock and flowing over my trembling balls.

  I heard the men around me bellow and howl as they, too, felt the intense sting. Steaming liquid flowed over the tender flesh of their manhood, as they were saturated with the stream of unbearably hot oil. The agony continued until the last drop of oil had tormented the tantalizing target of our fragile manhood.

  Frieda’s maturity spoke eloquently of the skill and experience she had acquired through the years to anticipate and fulfill a man’s most intimate cravings. She reached down and gently grasped my cock in her expert, gloved fingers. I groaned as she gently rotated her other hand’s wickedly expert fingertips around the head of my manhood. My erection rapidly returned.

  “Please, sir, I’m sorry—but,” A faint, secret smile flickered a moment on her lips, “I have to admit, I had fun hurting your cock. We just love to watch the men when we see just how much our malicious games hurt your cock and balls. We like to watch you howl when you strain and struggle against your bondage while we play cruel games with your bodies.” Her fingers returned to my manhood as she coaxed it into erection with a tender sympathy only a very special kind of woman can bestow. “Now I will make it feel happy.” Frieda kept repeating how handsome and virile my cock felt in her hands as her fingers worked their sex-magic on my manhood. “Such a big, manly toy for me to play with. It’s so thrilling for me to hold such an exquisite cock and balls in my hands and do any naughty thing I want to with them. Oh-h-h! my fingers can feel the hot blood pounding in your cock veins. Isn’t this such fun!”

  “It’s not your fault you hurt me,” I moaned. “UH-H-H! Oh my gawd! That’s fantastic! You’ve got such sexually skillful and expert hands!” Lewd sparks raced through my groin. “Damn, you’re good!”

  She knelt between my legs. Her unwired hand cradled my balls, clutching and rhythmically fondling them with a tender fondling that only years of sexually pleasing men can produce.

  The feathery fingertips of her wired hand curled around my cock and traveled restlessly up and down my rapidly stiffening manhood, fingertips pressed against one side, the soft pad of her thumb against the other side. With relentless insistence, Frieda rotated her hand as she stoked me, coaxing to life the horny demon in my belly. Just as expected, that cramping ache of lust was coming out to play with naughty Frieda.

  Was it worth it? Was the joy and bliss of sex with this skilled artisan of cock-craft worth the pain that was sure to afflict me in the horrible ordeals of the punishment chambers? I gazed at her nakedness, the sway and bounce of her womanly breasts as her arms moved her magic hands. The gentle swell of her velvet-skinned belly, the lush tangle of her pussy hair, already glistening with her juices. The pungent fragrance of her sex excited every nerve in me.

  “UH-H-H-H!” I moaned, trapped in a whirl of sensation. My feeble willpower beat futilely against the sweet caresses of the second woman’s warm breasts sliding across my face, and the iron determination of Frieda’s sexual genius. I made a pretense of struggling on against the inevitable. Damn the punishment. I wanted to feel my cum spurting in obedience to her feminine hands—to watch my cock shower across those lovely nippled mounds.

  I’ll wait until later to dread the punishment; it’s a lost cause anyway, I know. Frieda, sexy Frieda, will make me to cum—I know that! I want to cum all over her beautiful naked body, but I’m so afraid to. I imagine Big Dick is right now exploring my agony through the sensor chip, and is enjoying my torment.

  Big Dick responded, “Yes, M-0001, I am enjoying your agony immensely. I’m feeling not only your sexual arousal, but every carnal sensation from all the men being masturbated. And now, I’ll add a bit of spice to test your endurance.”

  “AUGH!” A bellow of agony trumpeted from every male’s throat. The momentary electric shock was applied to every cock simultaneously. It hurt like hell!

  Big Dick giggled. “Isn’t this game splendid fun?”

  “You bastard,” I gasped. “We are human beings, dammit! We’re not toys! We’re supposed to be free!”

  “Used to be free, M-0001—used to be free.”

  “NAUGH!” Another burst of hideous voltage clawed at my manhood. The stinging jolt diminished every male’s response in the women’s desperate race to make her male cum first. Anxiety filled every female face. Although the insulation prevented the sh
ock from hurting the women, they could see and feel our helpless male bodies jerk and wrench against our binding straps.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Frieda whispered, but her wickedly sensuous fingers moved quicker, more desperately urging my cock to gush its jets of cum before the next electric shock, and save her body from a siege in Big Dick’s dreaded punishment chambers.

  Now I understand how a tennis ball feels, being battered back and forth. While Frieda’s magical fingers slid up and down my quivering cock, I soared over the net in a perfect bliss. Then, at random intervals measured in seconds rather than minutes, WHAM! The jolt of voltage slammed my cock like a tennis racket in the hand of a pro. The berserk electric shock clawed at the roots of my tormented manhood. Frieda’s sensual caresses would lift my cum-urge all the way up until I was poised on the top ready to burst, then the shock would knock me tumbling down.

  Again and again, Frieda and her partner worked their feminine allure on my strictly immobilized nakedness, the restraints strapping me down, prevented me from hindering their handiwork with even the slightest resistance. With their busy fingers around my cock and swaying, pendulant breasts caressing my face, they continued their performance with desperate exuberance. Then they moaned in despair each time Big Dick shocked our cocks. I bellowed out my pain, lunging and straining against my binding straps. It was a wonder they kept my cock coming back to full erection.

  Crafty Big Dick gauged the intensity of my cock’s arousal, and then when it pleased him most, he withheld the electric shocks from me, but continued tormenting the other men, deliberately and fiendishly making sure I would cum first. His timing was the work of a genius.

  “UNH-H-H-H!”

  By the merest fraction of a second sooner than the other men, a flood of my creamy cum geysered up against Frieda’s naked breasts. Then every male’s over-stimulated cock ignited in a blaze of almost simultaneous ejaculation. Only the precise, nanosecond timing of Big Dick’s computer complexity could detect the sequences—whose cum spurted first, and the one lucky man whose quivering, straining, teeth-gritting self-control lagged his cum long enough to save his body from punishment and spend a whole day resting and fucking a beautiful young girl of his choice.

  I had lost! The discipline robots moved in to tether me. One clipped his tether to my cock ring. The guard robot released my straps and yanked me up to stand on my shaky legs.

  “Come!” the discipline robot bellowed, and jerked the tether taut. I almost fell flat on the floor from the swift, powerful tug. A forlorn procession of groaning men and weeping women was towed away; away from Frieda and her large-breasted partner in crime who won a day with no torment; away from the fortunate male who would enjoy a day of peace comforted in the arms of a sex-partner of his choice. I was pulled into a dark tunnel and trotted behind an unfeeling, mechanical device that, like me, was a helpless slave to the sexually depraved bullying of a demented mega-computer.

  The tunnel led down, and down some more into darkness, until I guessed I was thirty feet below the surface. Above me was a grassy meadow where the sun shone bright and warm, and birds flew free in the air, free to fly in any direction they chose. I was made less than the lowliest creatures that scampered or flew about our facility’s meadows and forest.

  The tunnel leveled out and we entered a long, dim passageway, flanked with steel-barred doors along both sides. Here were the chambers where Big Dick created a sex-hell for his captive humans. The robot stopped in front of a door. A guard robot opened it and shoved me inside. I groaned out loud when I saw the black-painted, body-stretching rack raised about four feet off the floor with the wide leather cuffs waiting to capture my wrists and ankles. It was circular, with the chains arranged ninety degrees apart to stretch me out, spread-eagled. That would hurt enough, but I knew there was worse in store for me.

  The robot shoved me face down on the rack, strapping my ankles to the bottom. Then he pulled my arms taut, and strapped my wrists to the other end, with chains that curled around the steel axle of the stretching wheels. There was a one-foot circular opening in the center of the rack, letting my cock and balls dangle down like tempting toys inviting some girl’s sadistic amusement. The guard wrapped a strap over my lower back, over my ass, and across my thighs just below my buttocks, cruelly preventing me from raising my hips to lift my manhood out of danger. He spun the wheels to take up the slack in the wrist chains until they were tight, then leaned over me with a clattering, mechanical laugh, patting my defenseless ass with its metal hand and toying with my ass crack with a finger.

  “Be patient. Your attendant will be here soon.”

  “No hurry,” I gasped.

  Less than two minutes after he left, two naked girls stepped through the door and stopped, gazing at my unprotected body stretched tight on the rack. One was black, very tall and athletically muscled, like a Zulu warrior. Her dark skin gleamed like a jewel, covered with some cosmetic oil. She walked with the grace of an athletic body, probably an Olympic gold-medal winner. She carried a long, supple willow rod, thin and springy. The other girl, small, cute, and obviously Japanese, held a tiny pitcher of some liquid. She thrust forward her petite, conical breasts shamelessly, proud of her nude beauty. The girls glanced at each other, grinned, then strode to my side.

  “Please, girls,” I said, “Don’t...”

  “Shut up!” the black Olympic woman said. “Master Dick gave us a job to do on you, and we’re going to do it, or we’ll be punished ourselves.” She glanced down at the Japanese girl. “You go first.” She amused herself by swishing the cane aimlessly while she watched.

  The small girl sat down on the stool under the rack, poured out the liquid onto her hands, then reached up and massaged a slippery lotion all over my cock and balls. The black woman nodded and the Japanese girl began gently stroking my cock with one hand, and fondling my defenseless, dangling balls with the other. She sang some ancient, rhythmic oriental love song with her delicate voice. The sensation of relief and pleasure was overwhelming. I closed my eyes and moaned softly, so relieved I wasn’t being tortured.

  My cock swelled and hardened, stretching out to its full length. When I thought I was about to cum, she slowed and lightened her touch, reducing the stimulation just enough to make me hover just below the trigger-point of an orgasm. The strain of wanting to cum, but not being allowed to, soon had my balls aching like they were being crushed. Her hand tightened around my balls, gripping hard, intensifying my pain while she kept up that damned slow stroking of my cock with her other hand.

  Now the other girl lifted her long, slender cane and began gleefully whipping my ass.

  “AUGAH! YAUGH!” I crushed my eyes shut, gritting my teeth, rolling my head back and forth and groaning.

  “Oh, damn it!” I bellowed, “Let me cum! Let me cum! Please!”

  “No, mister, I can’t,” the Japanese girl replied. “Master Dick says if I let you cum, he will give me awful punishment all night long.

  “Oh, gawd!” I moaned, “This is worse than the ass-whipping.”

  “We’ll see about that!” The black Amazon said with a snarl. She whipped her cane down again and again, harder and harder while my yowls ricocheted off the concrete walls. My ass burned like a volcano’s liquid lava was flowing over it. My cock strained and shuddered in its failed attempts to squirt cum, and my balls cramped with the blocked effort to unload their boiling liquor. The torment continued minute after agonizing minute until a swirling black whirlpool sucked me down into unconsciousness.

  The girls dumped a bucket of cold water over me, and cheerfully continued the torment. Again and again the cycle was repeated until my buttocks, back, and thighs were a canvass adorned with a masterpiece of crimson stripes. I lost consciousness for the twelfth time.

  A soft, gentle voice woke me. “It’s alright now. You’re safe here for awhile.”

  My mind cleared, and I realized I was lying on my back with my arms and legs stretched out, and wrists and
ankles chained to the corners of a hospital bed. I was in our facility’s hospital. The voice was Nurse Nadia Zoyechka’s, leaning over me, quite beautifully naked, wearing only her perky, starched nurse’s cap, a neck collar and the ever-present bondage cuffs we’ve been condemned to wear on our wrists and ankles. Her luxurious breasts swayed above me. My hands clenched as I gazed at them, eager to capture their round softness in my grip.

  “Relax, Steve, Big Dick is finished with you for awhile, and I’ll keep you here with me.” Nadia reached out her soft warm hand and caressed my damp forehead. A long, silvery chain was locked around her wrist cuff, connected to the cuff on her other wrist. She leaned over and kissed my parched lips.

  “Water,” I moaned. “Please, I’m so thirsty.”

  “Here, drink all you want.” Nadia lifted a tall glass of ice water and put its straw in my mouth.

  I drank long and deep, then released the straw and exhaled a long, cheerless breath. “Oh, damn, I ache all over.”

  “I can soothe all your pain, Steve. I’m an expert at all kinds of massage.” She smiled and her hand drifted down my chest, across my belly and continued on until her fingers circled my anguished cock. “All kinds of massage.”

  I wearily shook my head. “Oh, please, don’t torment my cock again!”

  “No, no, this will feel wonderful.” Nadia whispered. She sat down on my bed, then lay down beside me without releasing her amorous hold on my cock. Now I could see the cuffs on her ankles, and the short chain connecting them.

 

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