by Nicola Diaz
Then he flicked a switch, and I could feel it stretching me out. What was it? I couldn’t see, but I knew from some of the BDSM books that Chet was stretching out my pussy, trying to see just how much I could take. I felt embarrassed all of a sudden, as if everyone was laughing at me as my clit got pulled in one direction, and then another. It was like nothing I had ever anticipated in my wildest dreams. I could feel my walls being pulled from either side, and I screamed out in pain. Chet then stopped and gave me a breather. I gave him a weak smile and then he started ti stretch me out again, but his time with his fingers. I could feel my skin being pulled so tightly that it amazed me that it didn’t rip apart. As soon as I though I couldn’t take any more, Chet started to play with my clitoris.
He rubbed my magic button back and for the, back and forth. Then he came down and placed his lips on it, which was the most amazing sensation I had ever felt. He licked it a few times, and then he started to roll it under his tongue in circular motions. I experienced so much pleasure in that moment that I though for sure I’d have an orgasm right on his face, but then he stopped and went back to stretching me out. I screamed. The alternating sensations of pleasure and pain got to be too much and I wanted to crawl away and cry. But I knew that this would be the most money I’d made yet, so I stuck it out until the end.
Chet repositioned himself and gave me a breather. I looked out and observed that everyone in the audience was thoroughly enjoying the performance. Chet motioned for me to get into doggie style position, so I got on all fours and waited for the next go round. He started with a large plastic banana. I almost laughed when I saw it, but then realized it was no laughing matter when he slid it inside my asshole. He started softly, with a little oil on the tip, but then progressed to more intense pushing.
I bit down on my clenched fist as he drove the banana harder and harder into my tiny hole. It gave me intense sensations of pain, but as soon as I wanted to yell out from the discomfort, he was right back on my clitoris, rubbing it back and forth, then in circular motions until I cried out with sheer delight. This back and forth went on for several minutes, until the audience yelled out that they wanted to see me have an orgasm. I smiled and closed my eyes, because I thought that I deserved one hell of a big one right about then.
Chet suddenly stopped his rubbing, right as I was on the verge of an intense climax. He got up and then reached for a whip from his bag, which surprised me because I though that we were almost done with the performance. He told me to get back on all fours, and I did as he commanded. Then he whipped my ass, first once, and then twice. I cried out and then told him to do it again. He whipped me until I yelled for him to stop. Then he got down on top of me.
In front of the audience, and right on Frankie’s camera roll, Chet slid his big hard dick into my pussy. He moved it in and out, in and out. I grabbed his waist and pulled him closer and the audience watched with excitement. It didn’t take long for me to reach an orgasm, because I had been heavily stimulated. When it did come, it was like a giant wave releasing its ocean spray out into the atmosphere. I fell back and closed my eyes with exhaustion.
Frankie motioned for us to cut the action. I slowly opened my eyes and Chet got up. The crowd began to disperse, as if they would after a movie ended in the theater. They went their separate ways, and I sat up and rubbed my face. My body was sore, but I felt content. This was going to be one incredible story to tell Melissa when I got home. I eased myself onto the treasure chest which had been moved aside, and I started to out my red lingerie on again.
“That was pretty intense,” said Chet. He had put on his jeans and was taking a sip of some water that had been left on the platform. I smiled and then nodded my head, suddenly feeling shy. Then I laughed at myself for feeling that way after I had just bared it all in front of a live audience of hundreds. Chet seemed to understand. “You know, the first few times I did any real BDSM shows, I was pretty nervous,” he said. “But Frankie’s such a laid back guy, I realized that there was nothing to be worked up about,” he said.
I looked in his eyes and noticed that they were an intense green color. I had never really had a chance to even consider that Chet was handsome, or that he might actually like me as a person, and not just as a sex object. “Yeah, well I only took this gig because I really need the money,” I said. “I’m going to get evicted if I don’t come up with some hard cash, fast,” I said. Chet looked concerned.
“You should have told me sooner,” he said. “I’ve been at this gig for awhile now so I’ve got a pretty nice stash saved up,” he said. “I could loan you some cash if you really need it,” he said. I smiled. It felt good to know that someone actually cared about me.
“You know what?” I asked. “I appreciate the offer,” I said. “I’ve been stressed the last moth, worrying if I’d have enough to cover my bills, and thinking I might need to drop out of college, but if Frankie pays me what he said he was going to for tonight, then I think I just might be back on my feet again,” I said. It was true. I had made just enough over the last two days to cover my back-bills, and now I almost had enough for the current month’s rent.
“Well, if you ever need a helping hand, let me know,” said Chet. He seemed sincere, and I appreciated it. I slid on my red boots and then walked off the platform with him. Then he asked me if I felt like going out for a drink when we got paid out for the night. I thought that sounded like a great plan, so I obliged, and then headed for Frankie’s door. I knocked and he opened it up.
“Little Flower Kelly. Just the person I wanted to see. Your performance tonight was stellar,” he said. “In fact, I received so many accolades that I decided to throw in an extra hundred dollars in appreciation,” he said with a smile. With that, he handed me five crisp hundred dollar bills. I thought back to my days at Ronnie’s and laughed. Then I stuffed that cash into my pocket and sauntered out of his office, and into the clear, crisp night.
THE END
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Punish Me!
I’m suspended in the air, my ankles tied to my wrists, and both of them in turn tied to a suspender bar. Face up, legs spread and my crotch visible to anyone who wants to see.
But the only person around for miles is a guy called Alessandro Marquez, who had abducted me from my office earlier today and is responsible for the way I’m currently positioned. I’m wearing nothing but boots and a collar that he has given me, and the room we are in is unheated. Shivers run up my spine, whether of fear or anticipation…or even pleasure, I’m not so sure.
Ordinarily, had a stranger abducted me and then proceeded to strip and suspend me in thin air, I would’ve been shitting my pants. But here, anticipation as to what he might do next overpowers whatever fears I might have. I don’t know why, but ironically, my abductor makes me feel safe. For some reason I cannot put my finger on, my instincts tell me to…trust him. Trust him to treat me like some sort of sex toy, but also trust him to not really harm me.
At the moment, the former seems like the more viable possibility, so I stop mulling things over and bring my focus back to him. He is standing in front of a shelf, trying to decide which toys to use. I still don’t know why he’s brought me here, or what sort of erotic interrogation he’s about to conduct, but I find myself worried more about how eagerly my body might react, as I am about who he is. It seems to be enough that he is lip-smackingly gorgeous: 6’4”, lean (I never could see the appeal of muscular hunks), just the right density of beard, brown eyes. To top all that, he has the deepest of the deep baritones for a voice.
He had walked into my office, dressed nonchalantly in a Westwood suit. Posing as an executive from Cerys Pharmaceuticals, he had totall
y taken me in. I wouldn’t have imagined that the sophisticated, Harvard-educated businessman standing before me would turn out to be my captor by the end of the day. We had gone on a business dinner, and his attractiveness had ensured that I couldn’t say no to his offer to drop me back home. I haven’t had sex in months, so I must admit that I was hoping for a quick one-night stand.
But he had turned the car far away from civilization and brought me to this lodge in the woods. Of course, I hadn’t known that the lodge would turn out to be some sort of fetish dungeon, so I had voluntarily stepped out of the car. Naïve idiot that I am, I actually thought he had brought me to a cozy little hideout for a night of uninterrupted casual fucking.
“So Miss Nicolette o’Connor.” His voice reverberates through the hall, and brings me back to the present. “I must establish a few things at the outset. I don’t usually do this, but it had taken all of one photograph to convince me otherwise. You really are breathtakingly beautiful.”
“If I was supposed to take that as a compliment, then please back the fuck off,” I say, the exhaustion from suspension giving my anger an edge.
“Take that however you will. I’ve been tasked with finding out about the Meyer Deal. And I’m giving you an easy exit. Tell me everything you know, and I’ll let you go right away. Otherwise...well, you’ve seen this dungeon. And suspension is only the beginning.”
“I’d rather die than tell you about the Deal.”
“I have ways to make you talk,” he says, all the easy charm gone out of his voice. However, even his coldness manages to cause my groin to twitch. He’s irritatingly hot.
“I’d like to see you try,” I say, the defiance in my words echoing through the hall. It bounces off him, and serves to egg him on. He walks right back to the cupboard, and picks up a huge black dildo. I swallow, and feel my ankles go numb. I am in pain, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction that he’s managed to make me uncomfortable.
He is walking towards me with the dildo, and it’s only now that I notice the spikes on it. Not embossed for pleasure, but pain. I flinch at the prospect of having it inside my vagina, but he pretends to not notice.
“Who was the chief contact person at Gamma Pharmaceuticals?” he asks in a low rumble. I say nothing. He moves a little closer, and nudges the tip of the dildo against my hole. I’m ashamed to see that I’m beginning to get damp between my legs. It doesn’t escape his notice, of course, and he smirks.
“Where are the real account books? And who cooked the fake ones for you?” I don’t say a word.
The Meyer Deal wasn’t the proudest moment of my career as the CEO of Gamma Pharmaceuticals, but it had been necessary. We had had to strike a deal with Eduardo Rodriguez, one of richest Mexican druglords, to keep Gamma afloat. We had then proceeded to launder the money in the Cayman Islands and use it for legitimate purposes in Gamma. It had all been brushed under the carpet, and we had been careful to not leave any loose ends.
I don’t have the faintest idea as to who hired Alessandro, but I can guess it’s Cerys Pharmaceuticals, our primary competitors in the market. They must’ve found out about the deal, and sent a professional tormentor to extract the specifics from me. Not that he is getting anything out of me, but still.
I’m still lost in my thoughts, and he brutally shoves half the dildo up my hole. I let out a loud scream, and he ignores it, while pushing the rest inside. I want to kick him, but all my limbs are tied.
“Stop it, you motherfucker! You can do whatever you want, but you’re not getting a single detail out of me. I’m Nicolette o’Connor, and I’ve pulled Gamma out of more tough spots than you have hair. And I’m not throwing all of that to the dogs just because of whatever you might do to me.”
He continues as though he hasn’t heard me, and begins to pull the dildo out. I almost heave a sigh of relief, but he pushes it back again without warning. My throat is still hurting from the last scream, but a louder scream leaves me as he sets up a rhythm and begins to move the dildo in and out. It hurts like you can imagine it would: those spikes scraping against the walls of my vagina, and the dildo itself is bigger than any dick that’s ever been inside me.
I’m screaming, and he’s relentless. “Contact person. Account books. Exact amount. Tell me, and I’ll stop.”
I glare daggers at him, and remain silent. It clearly infuriates him, and he starts moving the dildo faster. I don’t know if I should be afraid or alarmed that I’m fully aroused by now, and doing all I can to stop myself from coming. It worries me how he’s a complete stranger, who clearly doesn’t have my best interests in mind, who is literally raping my pussy with a huge spiked dildo, and all I can think about is reaching orgasm. I know I should be bothered by the fact that the whole set-up: the abduction, the dungeon-lodge, the sex toys…is evoking lust instead of fear, but no, my pussy is wet, hungry for more and seems to have taken away my ability to think.
Suddenly, he pulls the dildo out, and I feel its absence acutely. I want it back inside, I want him to stroke me to orgasm. I’m mildly disgusted by my urges, but I can’t deny I’ve got them. He goes back to the cupboard, presumably to find another toy to torture me with. I wonder what it would be next. I find myself hoping it would cause me as much pain as the dildo did.
He brings a paddle, and smacks me hard across my ass. I whelp, but muffle the groan against my shoulder.
“Tell me who contacted the druglord, you dirty little cockslut. TELL ME!” He has raised his voice for the first time all night, and I realize that he sounds even sexier when angry.
When I say nothing, he smacks me again, harder this time. I let out a gasp, whether of pain or pleasure I’m not quite sure. What I do know is that I find myself waiting for the next one.
And he doesn’t make me wait. The next hit comes soon enough, and I feel myself warm up to the act. He’s shouting words like “Account books” and “details”, and I find it almost funny how all my attention is focused on how wet I’m getting. A few more smacks of the paddle, and I’m sure I’ll squirt all over myself. Now wouldn’t that be a sight!
He’s panting, and I can sense his increasing frustration in the tone in which he says, “Just say something, anything, goddamnit!” Despite the pain, I smirk to myself, thoroughly content that I’ve wrested the power from his hands. Back into mine, where power has always belonged. I feel a little bad for him; experienced BDSM practitioner he might be, but I can’t really blame him for not guessing that one of America’s most powerful CEOs could be such a resilient submissive.
The public Nicolette o’Connor is confidence, aggression and professionalism personified. She brooks no interference from those not as smart as her, and is known as a formidable rival. But the private Nicolette is a raging submissive. I have never trusted any of the men I’ve dated or casually fucked with this information, and my public persona ensures that my secret is pretty safe.
But in the hands of this one stranger who picked me up without my consent, and is doing all sorts of semi-erotic, semi-rape-y, semi-torturous things to me; I feel myself come apart and unable to hide my true desires. I want him to dominate me thoroughly; I want him to not listen to what I’m saying and treat me like his sex slave.
Good for me, he seems to know of my desires without my having to articulate them. He has now brought out a fire wand, and is dangling it threateningly in front of my eyes. Our eyes meet, and I see surprise flit across his face. I know it’s because he was probably expecting to see fear instead of arousal. I love how despite being physically vulnerable thanks to the bondage, I still manage to rile him up.
He brings the flame close to my thighs, and speaks. “One last chance, Nicolette. Tell me what I’m being paid to find out, and I’ll let you go. Withhold the information, and I’ll have no choice but to turn you over to the person who’s hired me.”
“Who has hired you?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity.
“You seem smart enough. Can’t you guess?”
“Cerys Pharma. It’
s Melina Motherfucking Patterson, isn’t it?”
He nods. “Does that change your decision?”
“It only makes me more determined to not give anything away.” Melina is one of my oldest rivals. I’ve hated her since college, and she’s always had this weird hate-attraction thing for me.
He runs the flame along my thigh. I suck in a breath, but don’t move my thigh. The flame begins to heat the spot, and I bear it for a few seconds before yelling “OUCH.” He pulls back a bit, and then moves the flame to another spot. He keeps doing it until both my thighs are covered with red spots, and are tingling with pain. I don’t feel much beyond a little discomfort, and Alessandro clearly looks amazed at my pain tolerance threshold.
“So what are you going to try next?” I ask him, the challenge in my voice obvious.
He heaves a deep sigh, and says, “You’ve brought this upon yourself, Nicolette. If I’m to receive my payment, I must hand you over to Melina. Those were the terms. Though I do think she wouldn’t know what’s hit her, if your resilience to pain is anything to go by.”
