by Cherry Lee
Torture Me
By Cherry Lee
Torture Me
Published by Darker Pleasures at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Darker Pleasures. All rights reserved.
Edited by Matt Nicholson
Beta read by Sue Foulkes
Cover image by davidgilder/123RF Stock Photos
Smashword Edition, License Notes
This work contains graphic language and sexual depictions of sometimes extreme consensual and semi-consensual female bondage and sadomasochism. It is intended for mature audiences only and is not suitable for persons under eighteen years of age. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters places and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce or redistribute this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Darker Pleasures, webmaster at darkerpleasures.com.
Published by Darker Pleasures at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Darker Pleasures
Smashword Edition, License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with other another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This work contains graphic language and sexual depictions with strong BDSM themes. It is intended for mature audiences only and is not suitable for persons under eighteen years of age. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
“Torture me, please. I need it,” Melissa begged.
It was true. John had no idea how much she longed for an unrestrained, almost vicious touch. Her pussy clenched with desire when she imagined him squeezing her tits, pinching her nipples, twisting them and all but tying them in knots.
It had been her secret dream and desire for so long that Melissa couldn’t remember when she had first realized what it was she craved. The intense need for that kind of punishment had become an ingrained part of her. Up until now, she had made it a hidden facet of her personality, shamefully stuffed in a closet of her psyche. Tormenting herself when he was gone, or when she was in the shower behind the safety of a locked bathroom door, had worked for a while, but she found herself wanting to encourage him to do more every time he played with her nipples and especially when he used his mouth. But she had never found the courage to tell him what she really wanted.
Tonight, moments ago, she had finally revealed herself to John. Now, she waited, nervous and breathless with anticipation, to see what his reaction would be.
“You want me to what?” His dark eyebrows drew together over his pale blue eyes. “Are you serious, Liss?”
“Look, it took me a half a bottle of tequila to admit this. You’d better believe I’m serious. I just never had the guts to ask before.” She waited for him to say something more, but John kept gazing at her steadily.
“Jesus, you’re not making this easy,” Melissa said. “I’m baring my soul to you, showing you the truth about myself. Don’t leave me dangling here, feeling like some kind of freak.”
John started as if waking from a trance. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with…it. If t-torture is what turns you on, you should have told me a long time ago.”
“I couldn’t,” Melissa said, shifting in her chair and crossing one leg over the other. “You’re so…good, such a boy scout. There was no way I could ask for what I wanted.”
“Well.” He stared at the floor a moment, then looked Melissa right in the eye. “You’re asking now.”
“And what’s your answer?”
“I can…I’ll try,” John stammered.
It wasn’t the forceful, aroused response Melissa had hoped for, but then she hadn’t really expected that. John had a quiet, gentle nature. When they made love, he touched her with tenderness, stroking her skin like it was made of glass, pleasing her carefully and slowly. It was sweet. It was good. But it wasn’t enough!
Melissa wanted him to want to cut loose, to use and hurt her the way she craved. She wanted to know, not just imagine, what it was like to be hung by her wrists and whipped or gagged and tied spread-eagle on a bed and burned with candle wax. She was tired of looking at her secret stash of images and clips, imagining herself in bondage and doing what little she could to herself that made it somewhat real. She had to know, at last, what it really felt like.
“What kind of, um, punishment were you thinking of?” John asked in a conversational tone, as if they were discussing whether to eat pizza or Chinese food. “Is there something particular you had in mind?”
“Well…” Melissa stood up and extended her hand, “…let me show you something and you tell me what you think.”
She led him to the laptop on the bed and sat, legs spread, in front of it, like she usually did. Of course, usually she was naked. With a few mouse clicks, she opened her porn portfolio.
“I was thinking of something along these lines.” She scrolled through the pictures she had saved and savored for years. Melissa had a folder for just about every kind of fetish she had come across in her internet travels. She passed over the directory labeled ‘Spanking’ and the one marked ‘Pussy’, opening the one that held her favorite fantasy.
The first few images were of a beautiful blond girl. She was bound with her arms behind her back. Tears were running down her cheeks, smearing her mascara. Her small boobs were tied into what looked like small balloons with tight coils of black leather. They were turning dark purple from the binding. A man was applying saw-toothed binder clips to her nipples.
Melissa ran a video of a dark-skinned woman with breasts four times the size of the blonde’s. Another woman was screwing down one side of a home-made press, squashing her huge breasts as flat as two wooden slats could make them. The big tits clamped in the vise were even darker than the rest of the woman’s ebony skin. Their owner’s breath was ragged and her moans got louder and louder until finally she threw back her head and groaned.
Melissa shuddered and squeezed her thighs together at the delightful clip. Her breasts all but ached in sympathy.
The next picture showed a brown-haired woman with a gag stretching her mouth and cutting into her cheeks. Her arms were drawn high overhead and her red-striped tits were being beaten mercilessly with a flail. The lattice pattern of welts that crossed her breasts was really quite beautiful.
“I have a video...” Melissa offered. She cued up the short piece of video that showed the man’s hand whipping the gagged woman’s breasts. They bounced and jiggled with each blow. The woman let out muffled cries that Melissa found intensely erotic.
Melissa stole a glance at John to see how he was reacting to the show.
He stared transfixed, not saying a word. The telltale bulge in the front of his jeans let her know that the torture video was arousing him as much as it was her.
“I especially like this next one.” Melissa continued her tour.
Another blonde flashed on the screen. This one had an expression of mingled pain and ecstasy on her face. Melissa had studied the model’s face carefully many times and believed that she couldn’t be acting. The extreme things that were being done to her tits in this picture were really happening. It wasn’t a fake. The woman’s reaction was real. Melissa wanted to experience for herself the intensity of the pain that could bring a woman such pleasure.
“God, how can s
he stand that?” John whispered.
The woman was bound with her wrists in front of her, down by her waist. There was a golden metal circlet piercing each thick nipple. A cord was attached to the circlet and then to a hook in the ceiling overhead. The cord had been pulled taut so the girl in the picture was almost completely suspended by her tits, or more literally, by her nipples. Only the very tips of her toes touched the floor. A man stood to one side of her, the black cane in his hand biting into her bottom.
Without asking, she clicked on one of the videos she’d gotten on the same web page.
They watched it together, his mouth partially open as he stared. Melissa could imagine what it would be like—the cord lifting her boobs higher and higher, elongating them until she couldn’t hold back a scream. She would stretch her body out as far as she could, trying to gain relief and allowing her tortured nipples a brief moment of relaxation. But there would be no relief or reprieve. She would scream, wail and beg for release that her John would not grant. The pain of the caning would only serve to make her jump, squirm, writhe, causing even more delicious agony. She imagined John taking the black rod first to her bottom and maybe the wet folds of her pussy that showed, then to the upstretched undersides of her tits.
The pain would be all-encompassing, then, suddenly, she would reach a point where the pain ceased to be agony. She would cross the threshold into another world, an amazing world where pain and pleasure were entwined, sub-space.
Melissa had read about it. She had devoured every scrap of information she could find, but it was no longer enough. She wanted to experience it firsthand. “Isn’t it amazing?” Melissa whispered. “See how she loves it?”
“Lissa, I don’t think she loves it,” John protested. “Look at her face.”
“I am.”
“And this is what you want?”
“Will you do it?” She looked up at him, anxious to hear his answer. She would love him either way but prayed his answer would be…
“Yes.” He stared into her eyes. “If that’s what you really want, we should try it.”
“Now?” She jumped up from her chair, her voice a rush, as if she was afraid he’d change his mind if it didn’t happen now. “I have some … things I’ve been keeping a long time.”
John followed her to their room. From the very back of the closet she took out the box where she had hidden treasures she sometimes used on herself, others to be used if this day ever came. Her heart beat fast as she removed the lid and showed John the tools he could use on her.
“See, I’ve got rope for binding, wire, wire cutters, a switch, twine, scissors, pliers, a packet of needles, cotter pins, binder clips, all sorts of things. I’ve used some of these things already on myself, but most of it works better with a partner.”
Melissa had always been careful to leave no telltale lines, bruises or marks on her white breasts to tip John off. When she sometimes had left a mark, she made sure the lights were out before they had sex so he wouldn’t see.
Now the secrets were over. Now she could share her fantasy with her lover and bring her desires to fruition at last.
“Impressive collection. I’m not sure what to do with everything here,” John snapped the switch across his hand and hissed at the contact, “but I’m sure I can figure it out.”
A shiver ran through Melissa at the smack of the switch and the change in her lover’s voice. John sounded different, deeper, and darker. He sounded like a man who would like to inflict some damage. She had been a little afraid he’d get upset when he found out she’d been doing these things behind his back.
Melissa felt a thrill of mingled anticipation and fear as he faced her and held out his hand. “Come on.”
He led her to the bed, sitting her at the foot. He crouched at her feet and took off her shoes and socks. He ran his hands up her jean-clad legs to her crotch and unzipped her fly. Peeling her pants down her hips revealed Melissa’s long, pale legs and peach-colored bikini underwear. The crotch of her underwear was already soaking wet from arousal.
John slipped a finger inside the elastic and touched her clit once.
The slight touch made Melissa jerk; she was so on edge. Her nipples were hard as pebbles and aching with desire. Her throat was thick and choked from nerves. She could barely swallow. She kept her eyes cast down to the floor as John rose to his feet to stand above her.
He rubbed his thumbs over the hard nipples pressing against her shirt, and Melissa twitched. “Sensitive,” he said. “Are you excited?”
She nodded.
John tugged her shirt over her head and fondled her breasts through the sheer fabric of her bra. The thin, silky white material showed off her assets clearly. Staring down at herself, Melissa could see the dark discs of her thick aureoles areolae and her sharply distended nipples. She watched John’s fingers seize each long nipple and squeeze and twist them until she gasped and tears stung her eyes.
“This is what you like—what you want?”
“Yesss.” Her answer came in a long, sibilant hiss. Melissa couldn’t suppress a groan as John pulled and twisted her nipples viciously.
“Take off your bra,” he ordered.
She obediently complied; sitting nude before him except for the tiny scrap of underwear that barely covered her crotch.
John left her for a moment to rummage through the box. He brought back a coil of very thin copper wire, stretched out about three feet and snipped it off.
Melissa licked her lips and stared at the bright copper as he brought it close and began to wrap it around the base of her left tit. He held one end and wrapped the other around her round globe once. Then her grabbed her breast, crushing it with his fingers and holding it still as he wrapped it twice, three times, then four, pulling harder than she’d ever dared. With her breast held firmly by the wire, John strained even harder, pulling the loops tight until the wire cut into her tender flesh.
Melissa cried out softly at the pain. She watched the wire cut deeper into her skin and her bulging boob turn a pale shade of lilac. It was just like pictures she had looked at so many times, but it was ten times as hot because it was her own breast being abused. The pain was finally real instead of imagined, and Melissa found it harder to bear than she had thought it would be.
With a few quick twists, John fastened the two ends of the wire together in a neat braid. He pulled out another length of wire and started to work on her other breast.
She whimpered at the unending pain in her tit. If it would only ease for a moment so she could catch her breath and steel herself then she could stand it. She thought about fingering herself, but didn’t want to get in his way. It wasn’t until Melissa’s breasts darkened from blood loss, and the edgy pain dulled to a pulsing ache that she was able to breathe more deeply and acclimated herself to the dull throbbing.
John stood back to admire his work. He ran his hands over the smooth, swollen, purple mounds he had created. He squeezed the taut flesh then pinched Melissa’s semi-flattened nipples.
A sheen of sweat formed on Melissa’s forehead and she clenched her hands to keep from ripping the painful bands from her breasts.
“Too much?” John asked.
Part of her wanted to nod, but she wasn’t about to take the chance he’d stop. She had longed for this moment way too long. Instead, she shook her head once, biting her lip to keep from crying out.
“I’ll tie you up. Move up onto the bed.”
Melissa followed his command, scooting backward until she lay spread-eagled across the bed. Her breasts bobbed as she moved and settled into place, making the wire bite even harder and the mounds throb even more.
John stripped off her underwear and cool air brushed across her hot crotch. He tied her wrists and ankles to the four posts of the bed, stretching her into a perfect X, which left her helpless and at his mercy. He got her camera and started snapping pictures of her, moving in to capture close-ups of her breasts then stepping back to photograph her entire splayed body.
> “This next part might hurt a little so I’m going to gag you,” John said, setting the camera aside. He didn’t even hesitate as he r got the ball gag from the box and stuffed it in her mouth.
Melissa had bought the gag along with some other sex toys several months ago on a whim. She couldn’t believe the day she got to use them was actually here. As the ball stretched her mouth wide, Melissa began to feel nervous. There was a yawning chasm between the fantasy of being tortured and actually submitting to it. What if there was more pain than she could take? What if John didn’t stop when she’d had enough? Now she couldn’t even do anything to give herself pleasure.
Her heart hammered in her chest, beating against her breastbone from the inside as she saw the next thing John took from the box. He opened a packet of needles, drew out a long sliver of gleaming metal, and tore open a foil alcohol rub he had picked up at the same time. He was jumping straight to piercing her. When she had bought the needles on-line, she’d gone for thick ones, knowing the little ones would hardly sting. She thought about trying to stop him, maybe direct him back to something less extreme for starters, but she was afraid if she did, he would stop completely. She took a deep breath to slow down her heart and watched as he climbed onto the bed, walked across it on his knees and straddled her left leg, looming over her.
His kneecap pressed up against her sex as he wiped the shard of metal with the alcohol pad then pressed it against her nipple. The wet pad felt frigid against Melissa’s sensitive flesh, and both her nipples puckered as best as they could with the tight binding. She rubbed herself against his knee, painfully conscious of how she had to be making him wet. She almost cried out into her gag as John approached her with the needle, but he ignored her look of distress. He pulled her nipple taut. He paused just before the needle touched her, rubbing his knee against her. The moment she closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling there, he started pressing the sterilized needle right through the heart of the fleshy nub.
