Nancy's Stardom

Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional, has no basis in reality and is
intended solely to illustrate a fantasy. It should in no way be considered as
condoning any similar acts to those portrayed.

Author: Nazgul.

Nancy's Stardom.

Chpt.1 - The star

Nancy came to slowly. She was lying on her back and she ached all over. Whatever
she was lying on was hard, and from the coldness of the surface, it felt as
though she had no clothes on, which was ridiculous - she always wore something
in bed, even if it was often pretty flimsy. She tried to roll over on her side,
and found she couldn't, her wrist was tied down. She opened her eyes. The
lighting in the room was dim and she couldn't see very much, but it was quite
big, the walls wide apart on each side. She tried to sit up, but the restraints
on her wrists prevented her from doing so. Then she tried to move her legs, but
they wouldn't budge, either. She lifted her head as far as she could and looked
at her body. Oh God! She was indeed quite naked, spread-eagled on what seemed to
be a wooden table, her legs wide apart. Her breasts, normally luscious 36C
globes with wide, pink aureoles and slightly protruding nipples, lay flat on her
chest. Her naturally blonde shoulder-length hair lay spread out around her head
on the table like a halo.

Suddenly Nancy started to panic, struggling wildly to free herself. To no avail,
her wrists and ankles were firmly attached to the table. Panting from her
efforts, she turned her head to one side and saw the leather strap round her
wrist, but couldn't make out how it was fixed to the wooden surface. One thing
was sure, she couldn't escape. Next she tried calling for help, her voice rising
to a high-pitched scream as she called ever more desperately. Her only reward
was silence, a silence which seemed almost total. Where on earth was she, why
was she tied down like this, what was happening to her?

Exhausted from her struggles, she lay quiescent, trying to think back over the
events that had brought her to her present fix. But try as she would, she was
unable to trace them. She remembered leaving the office and going down in the
elevator to the underground car-park, walking towards her car on her high-heeled
court shoes, which set off the muscles in her calves so well. She had been
wearing a two-piece black suit, the hem of the skirt cut well up her thighs, the
cut of the jacket setting off her breasts in their push-up bra. Nancy was very
proud of her body, which she kept in trim by twice-weekly work-outs at a health
club and she never hesitated to flaunt it openly. Not that she liked men, she
didn't; in fact she rather suspected that she had lesbian tendencies, though she
had never gone further than thinking about the matter. She hadn't gone anywhere
with men either, she found them coarse and unrefined, with their wolf-whistles
and their uncouth attempts to get off with her at any opportunity. The very idea
of sex with a man revolted her. Paradoxically, she did like the idea of dressing
up to set-off her body, so that men's eyes were automatically drawn to it. It
gave her a pleasant feeling, one of almost power, to see and almost feel men
lusting after her, whilst at the same time knowing that they couldn't have her.
Oh yes, Nancy was a curious mixture of prude and cock-teaser, never quite sure
of her feelings or why she behaved the way she did. Why, she hadn't even had an
orgasm in all her 23 years! From time to time, especially when towelling herself
after a shower, she would rub the rough material between her legs and feel the
beginning of strange sensations, but they always frightened her and she would
stop rubbing and try to think of something else.

The trouble was, she had not had a normal childhood, brought up in a family with
a mother to explain things to her. Nancy was an orphan, shy, withdrawn, an
orphanage child, holding herself back from contact with the other children. Had
she been a little more open, she would have probably learned a lot more about
her body and being a woman. As it was, she was naive and innocent, and at the
same time, in some respects, curiously worldly-wise. She had a good job in a law
firm, a small apartment, her own car, what more could she want? And that was
just the trouble, ever since she had got the job, some eighteen months ago, she
had been in a sort of hiatus, living her daily routine, moving through life with
no sense of direction, of ambition, of wanting anything specific.

She remembered that, as she walked towards her car, she had fumbled in her purse
for her keys. Then she had bent over and started to push the key into the
door-lock - and that was as far as she got. She couldn't remember anything else
at all, until a few minutes ago, when she had come round, naked, helpless, lying
on the hard wooden table.

Nancy tugged again at the leather straps, exerting all her force in her efforts
to free herself. It was no good, all she succeeded in doing was rubbing the skin
on her wrists until it was quite sore. The air in the room was cool, and soon
she began to develop goose-bumps.

After what seemed like an eternity the dim lights suddenly went out. Nancy cried
out, terrorised. "Who's there? Who are you? Let me go at once!" There was no
reply. She heard soft sounds, but in the almost total darkness she could see
nothing. Then the lights came back on, this time bright and dazzling, making her
eyes water. As her vision cleared, she saw that there were two figures standing
by the table, one on each side.

The figure on the left-hand side of the table was male. This fact was glaringly
obvious, because her head was on a level with his loins, from which protruded an
enormous, rigidly-erect cock. It was erect because, right at the base, behind
the balls, there was a thick, tight rubber ring, compressing the flesh to such
an extent that it limited the flow of fresh blood to the massive organ, which
had turned purple. The foreskin was drawn back from the head, leaving the latter
hard and shiny, like the tip of a huge bullet. She could even see the opening of
the urinary duct, oval in shape. Nancy had never seen a man's cock before,
except in pictures, and the sight of it both fascinated and horrified her. She
gave a little scream and then as her eyes travelled up the figure to the face,
she screamed again, louder. There was no face! All she could see was a
featureless moulded mask, covering the whole of the man's head. From behind two
slits a pair of eyes regarded her, dispassionately. Two breathing holes and a
horizontal slit for his mouth were the only other features of the mask. The
overall impression was one of malignity and coldness. His waist was slim,
encircled by a heavy black leather belt, cinched tightly. A hairless chest, wide
shoulders and well-muscled arms completed the picture.

Nancy was about to speak when a slight movement on the other side of the table
caught her eye. She turned her head and found herself staring at a woman's naked
sex. It was completely hairless, the dusky skin swelling into two pouting lips,
between which the pink membranes glistened wetly. Each lip was pierced by a
thick, heavy gold ring and she thought that she could see the glint of another
one, high up inside the fleshy lips. As her eyes moved up the woman's body, she
saw that the shapely hips suddenly diminished into an impossibly tiny waist,
encircled - imprisoned might be a better word - by yet another black leather
belt. The front of this one was a thick oval plate, some six inches in height,
which held the soft, smooth skin of her stomach firmly compressed. Next came a
pair of absolutely magnificent breasts. They must have been at least 38D,
jutting out proudly from the woman's chest, resting on a soft, black leather
platform bra which left them almost totally exposed. The wide, dark aureoles
were surmounted by two even darker nipples, again pierced by thick gold rings.
The rings were inserted into the base of the nipples, which were almost an inch
in length and maintained in a turgid state by the thick metal running through
them. Nancy had heard of body-piercing, but had never imagined anything like
this. The head was another featureless mask, but this time a pony-tail of thick,
heavy, lustrous black hair stood out proudly, about three-quarters of the way up
the back of the woman's head, hanging down to just below her shoulders. A wide
black collar, decorated with chrome studs, encircled her throat. The overall
effect was quite something, a mixture of blatant sexuality mixed strongly with
cruelty.

"Who are you?" Nancy gasped, terrified. "Why are you doing this to me, let me go
at once!" The two pairs of eyes continued to stare down at her. "Let me go! Let
me go!" she shouted at them struggling once again to get free. The eyes watched
her struggles, expressionless.

Then the man stretched out one hand and started to turn a small handle set into
the side of the table, near Nancy's hips. A section of the table, about a foot
wide, located directly under the cheeks of her ass, started to rise, pushing the
centre of her body upwards. He continued to turn the handle until her ass was
about twelve inches above the rest of the table, putting quite a strain on her
now tautly-stretched body. In this position her pubic mound, covered in a soft
down of blond hair, was fully exposed, as was the opening of her sex. Nancy
moaned with the pain of her stretched muscles.

"What are you going to do?" she whimpered. "Please let me down, it hurts!"

No answer. The eyes behind the faceless masks examined the lovely, fair skinned
body stretched out before them critically. The stretching threw every muscle
into relief, the wide-open legs leading to the now gaping lips of the sex, the
breasts flattened against the torso, the eyes twin pools of terror. The scene
was set, they could begin.

Chpt. 2 - The producers

Mike Flynn was an ex-Golden Boy, working on the London Stock Exchange as a
trader. He had gone there at 22, straight out of university. And he was good,
very good, he made money right from the start. Lots of money. But unlike many of
his colleagues, he didn't spend it on a flamboyant life-style, destined to show
off his wealth. He didn't do so because he had an ambition. He had decided that
he would retire at 30, with enough money invested to do just what he wanted to
for the rest of his life. Exactly what that was, he wasn't yet sure. And he
succeeded. On his 30th birthday he announced his retirement, quietly, and
disappeared from the scene, with a very well-garnished bank account and an even
bigger portfolio of juicy stocks and shares, managed in an off-shore tax haven.
Mike was rich.

The problem was, he didn't really know what he wanted to do with the rest of his
life. He missed the adrenaline rush as prices soared and fell on the screens.
Mike didn't have a partner. Not for want of trying, but the few women he had had
affairs with had quickly broken off when they found out what sort of person he
was. Because Mike was a sadist. He liked to bite down hard on a nipple and hear
the woman scream. He loved to take a clitoris between his finger and thumb and
start, slowly, to squeeze, at the same time watching the gamut of expressions
that flashed across his partner's face as the pain grew. Mike got a buzz from
pain. And not only from other people's pain, but his own as well since, like
many sadistic men, he was also something of a masochist. Not much of one,
because masochism, when you are inflicting the pain yourself, is not that much
fun, you can always stop when you can't take any more. The real thrill comes
from having a partner inflict it, and not knowing if she will stop or go over
the edge. So far, he hadn't found anyone willing to play.

Then, one afternoon he found himself in the sleazy Soho district of London,
visiting sex shops. He already had a cock ring, but wanted a smaller one, so
that when he got an erection it hurt more. He had measured himself and was
looking for a thick rubber one, because rubber was easier to get on and off
since it stretched a little, and thick so that it didn't cut into him. In the
third shop he entered he found exactly what he was looking for. He was standing
there, holding the ring in his hand, thinking about what it would feel like,
when a husky voice behind him said, "Christ, if that's the right size for you, I
want some!"

Mike turned, to find himself looking into the face of a very good-looking
metisse. She was about 5' 9", with long, lustrous straight black hair falling
almost to her waist, which was tiny. She was dressed in a white blouse, an open
black bolero jacket and tight-fitting leather trousers, her feet encased in
high-heeled ankle boots, the tops of which ran up under the legs of her
trousers. From the way that the blouse stood out from her chest, he guessed that
her breasts must be quite large.

"If it is the right size, you must be pretty big down there, and I like big
men," she added, staring at him. Mike was taken completely aback, he had never
been accosted in anything like this way in his life, and he was lost for an
answer. Finally, he stuttered, face crimson, "Well, yes, it is, actually."

"Great, then how about us going and getting some coffee somewhere and talking
about it?" she said, smiling. Her parted teeth revealed white teeth and her eyes
seemed to sparkle. Mike hesitated. For all he knew, she might be a common
prostitute looking for a pick-up. On the other hand, if he was any judge, her
clothes were more expensive than those worn by most women on the game. Then he
thought, "What the hell, nothing to loose, buy her a coffee, chat, then walk
off."

"OK," he said, "but I have to pay for this first." He went to the cash-desk,
paid, held the door open for her, and joined her on the pavement, where she
slipped her arm through his. "There's a good coffee shop down near King's
Cross," she suggested.

The coffee shop in question had a series of small stalls along one wall,
affording a certain amount of privacy, and they installed themselves in one of
these. When the girl had brought them their coffees the woman lent forward and
asked "Do you really intend to wear that ring?"

Mike was beginning to feel somewhat riled by this direct approach, so instead of
answering he asked in turn "What's your name?"

"Shirley," she replied, "and you haven't answered my question."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because if you are, you might be my kind of guy," came the answer.

"And what kind of guy is that?"

"Oh, you know, sexed-up, into screwing, maybe a bit nasty on the side."

Mike's heart leapt. "Are you on the game," he asked. The woman laughed.

"Nope, I'm not, I'm the assistant producer in a small film company, specialised
in making porn films, and after a day's work watching people screwing one
another every which way in front of the cameras, I feel pretty horny."

From there the conversation went rapidly downhill, continuing over a meal that
evening in a swish restaurant with plenty of good wine, and finishing at the
beginning of a protracted, drawn-out bout of sex back at his flat, where she
proved to be as sadistic, if not more so, than he was.

After a month or so of getting to know one another, which meant multiple
sessions of tying one another up, seeing just how far each one good go in the
pain stakes, and plenty of fucking; Shirley said one day, "What are you going to
do with the rest of your life?" - he had told her about his situation.

"I've been thinking about that, " he answered. "Why don't we set up our own film
company, make some porn films?"

Shirley shook her head. "When you've been at it as long as I have, it soon gets
boring. It's not much fun when all you get to do is watch other people rolling
around screwing one another silly. You don't get any of the action, and at the
end of the day you end up ready to blow your top. What we need is something
where we can get some hands on action. How about torture films?"

"Torture films?"

"Yeah. I overheard a couple of guys talking on the set the other day. It seems
that some people are making one hell of a lot of money from this kind of thing."

"How does it work?"

"Well, you pick out a good-looking young woman, one whose disappearance won't
cause ripples, you kidnap her, torture, her, let her go, sell the film over the
Net, make lots of money. And you get all the fun, real hands-on stuff. Bingo!"

"Woah! Steady on a bit! There are a lot of flaws to that. In the first place,
how do we know the victim's disappearance won't cause ripples?"

"That's easy, hire a sleazy private detective, spin him a yarn about a phoney
job offer you want to make her, get him to investigate her background."

"And if he squawks to the police if there is trouble?"

"One, pay him well, tell him there is more like that coming. Two, warn him that
one word to anyone, especially the police, and his wife, or kids, get to have a
fatal car accident. He won't talk!"

"Christ!, Shirley. That's diabolical. Ok, so we have a victim. If we're going to
torture her, she is going to do a lot of very loud screaming. The neighbours
will hear."

"So we find somewhere they can't hear. There have to be places like that, out in
the back of beyond, outside London."

"And when we've finished with her, what then?"

"We let her go. I'm not suggesting snuff films, that's just too risky. We have
lots of fun with her, and then we explain that if she goes to the police we will
know immediately, because we will be having her followed, which we will. If she
talks to anyone we will immediately kidnap her gain, and this time we will
torture her till she dies. If we can't kidnap her we will arrange for her to
have a fatal accident. Either way, she knows that she'll end up dead. In any
case, she'll never see our faces and she'll never know where she has been taken.
It's foolproof."

Mike stared at his sadistic partner in amazement. "You've really thought this
through, haven't you," he said admiringly. "I think I like it, but I need to
give it some thought myself before making a decision."

In the end, he came to the conclusion that it really was foolproof, and would be
a lot of fun. He contacted a private detective, never seeing him, using only the
'phone, setting things up. Through land agents on the Net he located a property
in East Anglia, right out on the east coast. It was a large old house set in
several acres of its own grounds, well away from any other inhabitation. The key
to his buying it was that there was a tunnel leading from the cellar of the
house to a disused A-bomb shelter, some twenty feet underground - a leftover
from the '60's and the fear of the Cold War which had swept the country. The
shelter was large enough to set up a superb torture chamber and the film gear
and, above all, it was so deep underground that no-one would hear a bomb explode
inside even if they were standing on top of it. In addition, few local people
knew of it's existence, it had been built over thirty years ago and had never
been used.

As far as the film gear was concerned, they decided that buying it in England
would mean it could be traced fairly easily. They went to Germany, ostensibly on
holiday, with Mike's car and a list of equipment Shirley had drawn up, and
bought it all for cash, each item in a different place.

Shirley continued her work with the film company, taking care to let it be known
that she was pretty fed-up with the job and looking around for something
different. Mike, who did not have to account for his time to anyone, spent most
of it out at the shelter, building equipment. The rest was split between an
intensive search of the Net for ideas on torture - films, photos, cartoons,
real-life accounts, etc. - and buying other equipment - mostly second hand - all
over the country.

In six months they were ready to go. Everything worked perfectly, the victim
screamed herself hoarse as they worked her over ingeniously, they edited the
film themselves, they set up a firewall from behind which they sold copies at
several thousand dollars a time to selected clients they found through the Net
and they broke even on expenses after the second victim. From then on in it was
all profit. And fun! OK, so the victim suffered a bit, but it was only a couple
of days out of her life and it was all in a good cause. Never once did they have
a moment's trouble, the threats worked like a dream, everyone kept their mouths
shut and everyone was happy ever after. Well, maybe not the victim, but as Mike
pointed out, you can't make an omelette with breaking some eggs.

Nancy was to be heir seventh victim, and between them they had thought up a new
set of tortures. This was the only trouble with the job, finding new ones. Since
their customers were nearly all regulars, they didn't want to see the same old
thing each time, so the sadistic couple had to stretch their imaginations.

Shirley had been waiting behind another car for Nancy to appear, slipped up
behind her and jabbed the hypo, into her arm, catching the girl as she slumped
almost immediately to the ground. Mike, watching from the van on the other side
of the underground car-park, had driven over, they had swiftly bundled Nancy
into the compartment hidden under litter of boxes in the van's floor and then
driven carefully to the house. Here they had extracted her, still unconscious,
from the van, stripped her, strapped her to the table, and then gone to dress -
undress? -themselves for the part. The cameras were ready, the girl was
stretched out naked on the table before them, quivering with terror, they were
ready to roll.

Chpt. 3 - The film

Mike and Shirley looked at one another from behind their masks, across the now
tightly-drawn out body of their victim. Mike gave a slight nod, whereupon
Shirley moved to where a large, mobile gantry, complete with spot-lights, three
big video cameras and three remote monitors was standing. She wheeled it to the
foot of the table, switched everything on and, using remote controls units,
focused the first camera on Nancy's face. The second one panned in on the girl's
sex and the surrounding area while the last one was adjusted to take in the
whole scene, including Mike. When she was satisfied, she took up her position
across from him and nodded. Mike turned his masked face towards the camera whose
red light was blinking and said, "Hello. This is the seventh in our real-life
torture series of unwilling victims, bought to you by Pain Movies. Our victim
this time is Nancy, a lovely 5'7" blonde beauty, who you can see laid out ready
for the fun to begin. We hope that you will be entertained by her suffering and
her screams - you can rest assured that we will do everything possible to ensure
that they are loud."

Nancy just couldn't believe her ears! They were actually going to torture her,
for a film! She screamed at them, "You're mad, let me go, you can't do this to
me, let me go, for God's sake, let me go!" She tugged frantically at her
strapped wrists, but the bounds didn't give an inch, she was helpless, naked and
helpless, her body without defence.

Her reaction was just what they wanted, what they had hoped for, the frantic
expression on her face and her pleas to be released putting the definitive stamp
of authenticity on the performance.

Mike picked up a roll of wide tape and stripped a length from the roll. He cut
off about 12" and handed it to Shirley. She bent the first half-inch over on
itself, then placed the tape, sticky side down, on Nancy's belly, just above the
hair line, on the right-hand side. Then, working carefully to avoid getting any
creases in the tape, she smoothed it down, working towards the girl's sex. The
tape ran down over the pubic area, over the right-hand labia, down into her
crotch, and finally up in between the cheeks of her ass. When Shirley was
satisfied with the lay of the tape, she smoothed it down gently, not too firmly,
so that she could see through the transparent material that all the pubic hairs
were sticking to it. Mike handed her a second length of tape, then a third,
which she placed in the centre and to the left of the area. When she had
finished, all of Nancy's pubic hair was stuck to the tape. She nodded at Mike.

Lifting his head to the camera again, Mike said, "I know that you all like to
see a hairless sex, so that is what we are going to give you. However, we
thought it would be interesting to see just how painful we can make the removal
of the pubic hair. I am sure that you are all familiar with the principal of the
depilatory process used on women's legs - warm wax is poured over the area to be
depilated, gauze is pressed into it, and when the wax has hardened, trapping all
the hairs, the gauze is ripped off in one swift motion. The pain is intense, but
very brief - the degree of pain depending on the sensitivity of the skin.
Naturally, the pubic area is one of the most sensitive ones on a woman's body,
so we may assume that the pain is quite extreme. The tape that my partner has
used on Nancy is a new aero-space product. It is extremely strong and the
adhesive is a special anaerobic resin. As long as it remains on the roll, out of
contact with the air, it does not set. As soon as the air gets too it, it starts
to harden, doing so completely in about five minutes. The resulting bond is
incredibly strong, in the order of several tons to the square inch. I am sure
that it will be more than strong enough for the use we are going to make of it,
which is too pull out all of Nancy's pubic hairs. However, I am not going to
remove the pieces of tape with a swift jerk, in the usual manner, instead I am
going to pull them off, one after the other, quite slowly. The result should be
very painful, as Nancy feels practically each individual hair being ripped out
of that sensitive flesh. You will, I hope, find the result entertaining."

"No, no, no, you can't do this to me, you're mad!" shrieked the girl

Ignoring her completely, Mike gripped the turned-over end of the tape firmly
between finger and thumb and slowly pulled it vertically upwards, away from her
body. The close-up camera showed the hairs, now attached solidly to the tape,
pull the skin up, and then tear out. The first inch or so was painful, becoming
more and more so as the taped lifted off closer and closer to her labia. When it
got there the pain was almost unbearable and Nancy screamed. "Stop, stop, please
don't do that it hurts so much!" Mike continued his slow pull, distending the
lip of her sex to the accompaniment of louder and louder screams, as the girl
writhed frantically in her bonds. Finally the tape was pulled right off, leaving
the area it had covered totally hairless, the skin bright red, with tiny
pin-points of blood here and there.

Nancy was in agony. It felt as though someone had run the flame of a blow-torch
over her pubes. Slowly, very slowly, the pain died back to a throb. That was
when Mike started to pull off the second strip of tape. Nancy went back to
screaming again. And again, as the third flame coursed down her belly and into
the crack of her ass.

When she had stopped screaming, Mike turned to the camera. "Of course, this is
only a starter, nothing serious, the really hard stuff is yet to come. However,
I think we can improve on the process." At that Shirley, who was now holding
what look like a scent spray in her hands lent forward and sprayed the depilated
area of Nancy's body. The liquid was an alcohol-based rub, and as it penetrated
and started to evaporate, Nancy screamed again, it was as though the whole area
had been set on fire, the pain was awful. She screamed, and screamed, and then
screamed some more. This time it didn't just feel like the flame had been played
over her skin in a quick pass, it was as though an evil hand held the blow-torch
on her permanently. Then, thankfully, after several minutes the pain receded.
Slowly. Too slowly. Nancy lay on the table, her hips bucking slightly from time
to time as a twinge of pain returned, gasping from the exhaustion of fighting
against her bonds. Her head swam, her eyes were filled with tears. And she
couldn't get out of her mind the man's last words: "This is only a starter,
nothing serious, the hard stuff is yet to come"! This couldn't be real, it had
to be some terrible nightmare. And yet the pain had been all too real. Her mouth
was dry and her heart raced, what did he mean?

Mike spoke to the camera again. "Since Nancy's body is currently lifted in the
middle, we have decided that, instead of just letting her down, we will try some
suspension, but we will leave you to guess just what kind, as we prepare her."

"No, please, no more, don't hurt me any more," Nancy pleaded.

Shirley bent over her and with two fingers of one hand spread her labia wide
apart. Licking the middle finger of her other hand, she started to massage the
girl's clitoris hood, in a circular manner. Nancy couldn't imagine why, it
didn't hurt, in fact it was quite pleasant. Slowly, very slowly, she began to
feel the same pleasurable feeling she experienced when she used a towel in that
area.

Gradually, the clitoris itself started to swell, the tip emerging slowly from
inside the hood. Shirley transferred her massaging finger to it, continuing the
motion. Nancy gasped, squirmed, it felt so good! Little by little the small nub
of sensitive pink flesh expanded, until if was fully-grown. Shirley stopped the
massage, spread K-Y jelly all over it and then picked up a thin hypodermic
syringe. It had been modified, the end where the needle usually fitted had been
cut off and the plunger taken out and reversed. Shirley placed the smooth,
flanged end over the clitoris, so that its tip blocked the opening. Holding the
body of the syringe with one hand, she slowly pulled the plunger up the barrel,
as far as it would go. A clip held it in place. The vacuum, aided by the K-Y
jelly, pulled Nancy's clitoris up inside the barrel of the syringe, exerting a
constant pressure on it, trying to suck it in further all the time. Nancy, of
course, could not see what was happening. For the moment it didn't hurt. Shirley
checked the camera monitor - OK, it clearly showed the nub of flesh drawn up
inside the transparent plastic tube. Shirley straightened up.

"Whaat...what are you doing?" quavered Nancy. No reply. The two torturers
watched the syringe, seeing the pink nub grow purple as the vacuum drew even
more blood into it and it elongated further and further up the barrel.

Nancy demanded repeatedly to be untied, to be let go, threatened to go to the
police, pleaded with them, all to no avail. Silently, the couple watched, until
the girl's clitoris was well over an inch long.

Taking a length of thin, black nylon cord, Shirley deftly formed a small
slip-knot in one end. This she slid down over the syringe. Then she pulled the
syringe upwards, stretching the clitoris as far as it would go. Nancy moaned.
Shirley pushed the noose down until it lay around the base of the clitoris,
below the flange of the syringe, then carefully pulled on the cord, so that the
nose closed tightly around it. Nancy squealed. Finally, Shirley undid the clip
holding the plunger in place, let it slide down the barrel, and pulled the
syringe away. She looked up at Mike, Fascinated, he bent over to inspect her
work. Nancy's clitoris, swollen until it looked like a miniature cock, was held
in its turgid state by the tight cord. He nodded.

Shirley next placed two 2' steel rods vertically into holes in the side frame of
the table. To their tops she fitted a horizontal bar, directly above her
victim's sex. Taking the free end of the cord, she tied it securely to the bar,
leaving a tiny bit of slack.

Mike addressed the camera again. "Because of her position, Nancy cannot see what
has been done to her, but she is about to find out. This is our new Clit
Suspension torture. I am going to start winding down the section of table
holding her ass up. As I do so, Nancy's body will naturally descend with it,
with the result that you can easily image. To relieve the pain, she will be
obliged to hold her body arched up, on her heels and her shoulders, with no
support., It will be interesting to she how long she will be able to hold that
painful position, before her strength gives out. And when it does, it will be
even more interesting to see what will happen to her clit. Will she just hang
there, suspended by it, screaming her head off, or will her weight simply pull
it out by the roots? Or tear it in half, or whatever? But before starting, a
small operation is necessary, to prepare her for another torture later on."

At this, he slowly started turning the handle at the side of the table and the
girl's hips moved downward. When the cord was stretched moderately tightly,
pulling her clitoris up firmly, Shirley bent over the table, an 8 gauge
hypodermic needle in her hand. Placing the sharp surgical steel point on the
base of the clitoris, right in the middle, just below the noose, she slowly but
firmly pushed it into the delicate organ. Nancy screamed. Shirley maintained the
pressure until the point came out the other side and half the length of the
needle had emerged, pointing towards the space between the girl's wide-open
legs. A second needle was slowly pushed though, parallel to the first one but
slightly off to one side, accompanied by another loud scream. And a third, on
the other side.

Mike started to turn the handle again, the section of table dropping lower and
lower, the cord putting an intolerable strain on the victim's precious organ,
which quickly turned a deep purple.

Nancy screamed as the pain swept through her. "No! NO! Stop! Put it back,
please, you're pulling it out, it hurts so much. Please stop, it hurts, it
HURTS!" As she did so, she arched herself, to relieve the pain. That was a
little better, but immediately every muscle in her body started to protest and
she knew that she couldn't hold the position for long.

"Stop it, stop it! I'll do anything you want, but please, please stop!" Mike
wound the table section on down, until it was about 3" below the cheeks of her
ass, then stopped. And waited. Nancy wailed again, this time from the pain in
her muscles. She held the position for a moment, and then her hips began to
drop. A truly hideous, ear-shattering scram was torn from her throat. It felt as
though her clitoris was being ripped out by the roots, the pain was utterly
unbearable. In addition, the thought coursed through her mind that if it was
pulled out, and it certainly felt as though it was, her sex life would be over
before it had even begun. Tortured both physically and mentally, she screamed
and screamed.

Mike and Shirley were delighted, in all the six previous sessions they had never
managed to obtain such a sustained level of screaming. This film was going to
sell like hot-cakes!

As Nancy's hips dropped lower and lower the pain increased in intensity. And
then suddenly doubled, so great that she couldn't even scream, her mouth opened
in a round "O", just a whistling sound as her agonised lungs sought to pump air
into her body. The clitoris had not been ripped out. Instead, the tight cord
noose had started to slide up the over-sensitised organ, the hard, twisted nylon
excoriating the flesh as it went, not quite skinning it, but leaving a trail of
what were almost tiny burn-marks on it. Slowly, so slowly, Nancy's hips dropped
lower and lower, the noose doing its dreadful work the whole length of her
inflamed clitoris until finally it slipped off the end and her body dropped to
rest on the table. Nancy, mercifully, passed out. Shirley switched off the
cameras.

"That was fantastic!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't sure what would happen, the cord
could have pulled the damned thing right out!" Her chest heaved and her hand
went down to massage her sex, the scene had been a terrific turn-on for the
sadistic woman.

Mike was turned on by it too, his massive cock standing out at right-angles to
his body, throbbing.

"Tell you what, he said, "let's go and have some fun, we need it. She won't come
round for a bit, and even if she does, so what, she's not going anywhere."
Shirley nodded enthusiastically and the couple left the room, leaving the
unconscious, suffering blond lying on the table.

Chpt 4 - Interlude

"OK," said Mike, when the two of them were in the next room, "according to my
reckoning, it's my turn to be top. Agree?" Shirley nodded, reluctantly. Shortly
after the couple had got together, they had decided to make a rule that they
would never make love "normally", there always had to be pain involved. To do
this, they decided to take it in turns to be either tormentor or victim. In
addition, they also agreed that they wouldn't use a safe word.

"Too sissy, too easy, it's a cop-out," Mike had said; "As soon as you begin to
think that you can't take any more, you yell 'Mother!' and it's all over. It's
just as if you were doing it to yourself."

"Yeah," said Shirley, "but what if one of us goes too far?"

"We won't," Mike assured her. "The catch is that if one of us thinks about
hurting the other too much, he, or she, knows they're going to get it back
double the next time they are under the hammer."

So far, the system had worked pretty well, both of them staying within tacit
limits. That being said, Mike tended to go further in the pain stakes when he
was top than Shirley. She was always afraid of reprisals if she went too far,
and anyway, Mike had all the money, he was her meal-ticket, she didn't want to
lose him. Psychologically, even if they were equals, he had the upper hand.
Knowing how heated he got during these torture sessions, and hot as she was
herself, she began to wonder if this was a good idea.

"Come on," said Mike, "let's get started. First you take your bra off." This was
no problem, she slipped out of it with a practised movement. Her heavy breasts,
firm though they still were at 33, nevertheless sagged slightly under their own
weight. She loved it when they did that, she became more aware of them, of her
sexuality. If she dared, she would never wear a bra but then, if she had done
that, they would be down nearly to her waist by now!

"Now you put this one on," said her sadistic partner, handing her something. The
'something' was two fairly 4" diameter thick metal rings, joined by a short
leather strap, another longer, wider strap dangling from each ring, one with a
buckle, the other with a series of holes in it. She guessed what it as for
immediately, and shivered. But she took it from him, and started to feed one
breast through a ring. It was awkward, so Mike helped her by doing the same with
the other one. By the time they had got the rings down firmly against her chest,
round the base of each tit, which was a bit of a struggle, her breasts had
turned into two big balloons, changing colour already as the blood supply to
them was restricted. She knew that soon they would start aching. Mike turned her
round, did up the strap behind her back and pulled it tight. Very tight, so that
the rings dug into her. She grunted, but said nothing, this was part of the
game, you HAD to accept the preliminaries.

Next, he walked her over, on her high heels, to where two small pulleys were set
metal posts, about 18" high, cemented into the concrete floor some 5' apart. He
made her stand exactly in the middle of them.

"Now open you legs so that you feet are as near to the pulleys as you can get
them," he instructed her. She did so, cheating a little, so as to give herself a
bit of lee-way, but opening them up pretty wide. Mike bent down in front of her,
attaching a long cord to each of her labia rings. He led the ends down, through
the pulleys, and tied them to her legs, just under her knees. The cords were
quite tight, so that her labia were pulled down and out in an obscene manner,
revealing the entrance to her vagina and the barbell through the hood of her
clitoris.

"OK, sweetheart, you get the story, " he said. "You close your legs and you pull
the rings. And you know how that hurts." She winced, she did. He had once
weighted them down with pounds of steel scrap, until they were stretched out
nearly 3". She hadn't been able to touch them for a week afterwards and, what
was worse, they had taken a while to get back to their original shape.

Next, he slotted a thin steel stake into a hole in the floor, just in front of
her. The top was adorned with a silvery ball, about the size of a golf ball and
it was on a level with her hips. It appeared to be adjustable in height. She had
never seen it before, and wondered what on earth it was for.

Two more thick steel rods went into holes in the floor, about 2' in front of her
and some 3' off to each side. Straps went round her wrists, with more long cords
attached. Mike made her bend over so that her torso was parallel to the floor,
her balloon-shaped tits pointing towards it, and tied the cords to the top of
the posts, so that her arms were held out securely at right-angles. The silver
ball pressed into her belly, just below the belt.

This was like nothing Mike had ever done before, and the woman began to become
more than a little apprehensive. "What IS this perverted bastard up to?", she
asked herself. It never occurred to her, in the light of what they had just done
to Nancy, that she was every bit as perverted as he was.

Yet another cord was tied into a slip-knot, pulled tight around the base of her
pony-tail. Next, Mike picked up a metallic object. It was a shiny, stainless
steel hook, with blunt ends, shaped like an S, one end longer than the other.
Pulling the cheeks of her ass even wider apart, he carefully pushed the long end
into her anus, fed the cord attached to her hair through the other, pulled it
tight so that she was forced to lift her head up and back, and tied it off.

The swine! She knew this trick all too well, she had used it on one of their
victims. Very quickly her neck would start aching, getting worse by the minute.
To stop the pain, she would try to move her head forward and down. This would
make the cord pull the hook against the ring of muscle that constituted her
anus. And that HURT. She would soon be feeling pain at both ends.

But Mike hadn't finished, it was obvious that he was going for the big time. Yet
another thin steel post was let into the floor, to that the ball on top was
between her breasts, the height adjusted so that it was where the swell of each
was greatest, some 2" from her chest. Finally he adjusted the ball under her
belly until it was a mere half-inch below it. Stepping back, he admired his
handiwork. Shirley stood there, legs wide open, bent over, arms outstretched,
tits hanging towards the floor and, best of all, her vagina gaping wide open and
inviting.

The position was not too uncomfortable, she decided, if she excepted the dull
ache in her tits, neck and anus. But she feared the worst, she knew what Mike
was capable of.

"What comes next, lover?", she asked in a husky voice.

"Why, you should know that Shirl, I'm going to give you what you want, I'm going
to fuck you," he replied.

That was fair enough, no more than she expected and, indeed, she had come into
the room with the desire to be fucked. But there was a catch in this somewhere,
even if she couldn't figure out what it was. She soon found out.

Placing a tall little table just behind her, Mike put a small grey box on it.
There were several leads going from it, one of which he plugged into a
wall-socket.

"Right Shirley, listen carefully. You know how you react when I fuck you, your
body takes over and you throw yourself all over the place. You have told me
several times you can't help it, it just happens. Well, this is where you learn
to control yourself when you are being fucked, however hot you get. Now, these
crocodile clips go on your nipple rings, and these on the bra rings like this.
This one goes on the barbell in your clit and this one I'll clip to the hook
buried in your ass. There. All connected up. The leads from the clips go to a
TENS machine. A modified one. A friend of mine has set it up so that, first, it
has a much higher output voltage than the standard model and, secondly, the
voltage increases slightly each time it gives a shock and also the length of
time it stays on.. The balls beneath your belly and between your tits have a
capacitive effect, just like the buttons on the touch-screen of a computer. You
touch them, however lightly, that sets off the machine and you, my sweet little
torturess, get lit up."

Shirley gasped. The bastard! The evil BASTARD! He knew damned well that she was
totally incapable of controlling her body when being fucked. She would throw
herself all over the place as the sensations hit her. There was no way she could
avoid touching those bloody balls and getting shocks. And knowing Mike, they
wouldn't be low voltage, either. Now she was for it!

The sight of his partner, all tied up and ready to receive him, had got Mike
hornier and harder than ever. The rubber cock ring dug deep into him, making his
balls ache. His cock, and least nine inches long, and thick, was as hard as a
rod. He was almost ready. But first, the secret weapon. This was something that
he had discovered on the Net. Made of hard, black rubber, it was about four
inches long. One end fitted over the glans of his cock, the inside ridge holding
it firmly in place. Form there, it tapered down to a thin, hollow tube, with
several holes on each side, the end being rounded. His cock was now, with this
extension, almost twelve inches long.

With his middle finger, he started massaging the woman's opening. Shirley
groaned with pleasure, becoming wet almost immediately. When he felt this, Mike
grinned to himself and slowly, almost delicately, he start to push his cock up
inside her.

"Oh yes, oh yes, God that feels good!", she moaned. Mike continued pushing,
until there were only two inches left to go. Gripping her hips, he gave a
powerful thrust, slamming right into her, his balls slapping against her.
Shirley yelled. "You bastard, you fucking swine, that HURTS! Take it out!"

"But of course it hurts, Shirl, that's part of the game isn't it?"

What had happened was that the tip of the hard rubber extension had hit the
opening to her cervix and punched its way inside. That was what was causing the
pain. However he fucked her, hard or soft, one way or another she was going to
suffer. Well, that's what she wanted, didn't she?

"OK, now I'm going to switch the TENS on, at a setting of 2.5, which is not very
high. Just remember, darling, every time it hits you, next time the voltage goes
up a bit. Ready? Then here we go." And with that, he pulled his cock out a
little and plunged it back into her. Of course, she moved, she couldn't help it,
she got a jolt in her clit and her anus. Reflexively she tried to close her
legs. That was not a good idea, the labia rings were pulled by the cords
attached to her knees. That hurt, too. What's worse, her nipples, which were
always incredibly sensitive, received their share of voltage too,

"Fun, isn't it?", said Mike. "OK, now the rules of the game. I fuck you until
you cum. If I cum before you do, you get to stand there like that for 15
seconds, with the TENS on full power. And remember, that means you won't get an
orgasm." With that he withdrew a little and slammed back into her.

The session lasted twenty five minutes, at the end of which Mike gave a loud
shout and came, his sperm travelling up the cervix basher and spouting out of
the holes. Needless to say, Shirley was in quite a state. For practically the
whole time she had been getting shocks in her tits, clit and anus, the voltage
going higher and higher each time, until its was almost unbearable. In addition,
her breasts ached ferociously from being constricted by the rings, they had
turned a deep purple. The jolts of electricity had made her try to close her
legs each time they hit her, with the result that her labia had taken quite a
beating, now being much longer than normal, and hurting. And she hurt inside,
where the hard rubber extension to her partner's cock had pummelled her cervix.
In short, she hurt all over. Add to that the fact that the electric shocks had
prevented her from cumming, why she didn't know, and Shirley was one pissed-off
young lady. But the worst was to come, now she had to take 15 seconds at full
power.

She had pleaded with him to stop, she had yelled, but Mike had been too
interested in his own pleasure. In any case, he liked hurting her - her, or any
other woman, he was a sadist through and through.

"Here it comes, Shirley," he said, gleefully. He had turned the machine off and
run the dial right round, and now he switched it on. She couldn't even scream
when it hit her, but just stood there, quivering, as her tits, her clit and her
anus burned as though someone was applying red-hot iron to them. The pain was
blinding. Suddenly the pain stopped. Mike had decided that it would be even more
fun if he gave her 15 seconds in three lots of five. That would make it last
longer.

Shirley gasped, trying to get her breath back. "Please Mike, no more," she
begged.

"But Shirl, we agreed it was a game, and you lost. Now you have to pay."

"I didn't agree, you pig, it was you who
sugges...Ahhh...........................hhhhh!

This time the pain seemed even greater, she was sure her tits were being burned
right out, and the pain in her clit was so bad that she involuntarily lost all
control of her bladder and pissed on the floor.

The pain stopped, as suddenly as it had started. "That wasn't very nice, was
it?" said Mike, sarcastically. "Someone's going to have to clean up that mess,
and guess who. Anyway, you know our rules, anyone losing control gets a double
dose. So now you have got a ten-second jolt coming."

No, Mike, no, please, no, it hurts too bad. I'll do whatever you want, but no
more, I can't take any more. Pleeeese, Mike!"

"No safe words, sweetheart, you earned it, now you get it."

She went on begging him, knowing in advance that it was no good. As her pleas
trailed away, he hit the button. Her knees flexed inwards, her labia stretched
to the limit of rupture, and blood appeared. She tried to shake her torso, to
shake those two balls of pure pain right off of her chest. Her clit was cooking,
she was sure of it, and her anus was a ring of white fire. Suddenly she
screamed, a long, wailing, drawn out scream that went on after he switched off.
She slumped down, held up only by her arms and the metal balls. Her entire body
was slick with sweat, she was trembling like a leaf, and her nipples burned on.

"Let me go Mike, please."

He did, untying her efficiently and helping her to stand up. The hook slipped
out of her ravaged ass easily, but taking the rings off her swollen breasts was
painful. Her stomach ached, sickeningly, she hoped he hadn't messed up anything
inside. He pushed her into a chair and gave her a glass of water, which she
gulped down eagerly. She was beginning to feel better, one of the curious
attributes of the TENS machine, it had little or no after-effect.

"Christ, Mike, that was rough," she said. "You really are a bastard!"

"Of course I am, sweets, that's what you like about me. Now, go and get yourself
sorted out, it's time we went back to see how our little Nancy is getting on.

Chpt. 5 - Pain on Ice

Nancy lay on the table, moaning softy to herself as waves of pain poured through
her body, emanating from her cord-burned clit. This just wasn't real, it had to
be some kind of nightmare. But she knew it was all too real, no nightmare could
cause pain like this. Then she heard the door open and the two masked figures
came into her field of vision, one on each side of the table, as before.

"Please, please let me go," she begged. "Don't hurt me any more, I'll do
anything you want, but please don't hurt me, I can't take any more!"

Ignoring her, the two figures attached cords hanging from pulleys in the ceiling
to the straps around her wrists. These were released from the table and the
cords pulled tight, until she was sitting up, her arms stretched out above her
head. All her muscles protested painfully, after their long period of strained
immobility. Next, Shirley strapped the ends of a spreader bar to each slim leg,
just below the knee. Her ankles were released, and then she was hauled up until
her ass was about a foot off the table, which was then pulled out from under
her. Now she was standing upright, legs spread obscenely, arms dragged up
towards the ceiling. Shirley lifted one of her feet off the ground and fitted a
thick-soled boot to it, doing up the laces quite tightly. A second boot went on
her other foot. Looking down, Nancy could see that the thick soles were made of
cork.

Mike now set two thick metal plates on the ground, one behind each foot. Onto
these he placed two blocks of ice. These were about a foot high and some eight
inches square. Quickly, the two torturers hoisted Nancy up until her feet were
high enough to be placed squarely on the columns of ice. Thanks to the thick
cork soles, her feet were protected from the freezing material she was standing
on.

Next came a thick metal tube on a very wide and heavy base, which was placed
between Nancy's legs, directly under her sex. Finally, the cords were pulled out
of the pulleys and tied to rings set into the wall on each side of the room, so
that her hands were on a level with her shoulders. Nancy kept quite still,
frightened that if she moved she would fall and impale herself on the tube
between her legs.

Shirley busied herself with the mobile film gantry, setting up the cameras so
that the whole scene could be filmed generally and in detail. Mike stepped just
in front of Nancy, but to one side.

"We have decided to call our next torture Pain on Ice," he said, looking
straight at the camera. "Here I have the object of our victim's suffering," and
he held up an object in front of the lens. It was made of shining steel. The
base was round, about five and a half inches in diameter. From three inches up
from the base it had a straight taper, diminishing to some two inches over a
length of seven inches. The tip of the object was a slim, pencil-like rod about
two inches in length.

Nancy stared at it, trying to guess what on earth it was. Mike held a tube of
K-Y jelly in the other hand, and he now coated the object with it quite
generously. Next he turned and placed it onto the top of the tube between
Nancy's legs. The tube slid up into a hole in the base of the object, so that it
was held firmly in place. Shirley now held the lips of Nancy's sex wide apart
and, undoing a screw in the middle of the rod, Mike extended it upwards until
the tip of the object penetrated her. He pushed it further up until the 2"
diameter part of it was just inside her, then did up the screw.

"Oh! No! No! Please, don't do that!" wailed Nancy. "Please, please, I'm virgin,
please don't do this to me!!"

Mike addressed himself once more to the camera. "I'm sure you have by now
understood what is going to happen. The two blocks of ice are standing on small,
low-powered heaters, which will slowly melt away the ice. As they diminish in
height, Nancy's lovely body - which I am sure you all appreciate - will be
slowly lowered, impaling her on the steel penetrator. This has been well
lubricated, so that it will slide up into her easily. The idea is not to cause
pain by having it rub and tear the walls of her cunt, but to expand it. Expand
it to a diameter of nearly six inches. I don't know if you really realise what
this means, it is the equivalent of giving birth to a baby with a very large,
rigid and non-compressible head. I can assure you that the pain this will cause
is quite incredible, and will last some time, so you can be sure of some really
good entertainment for the next half-hour or so. The fact that her arms are held
horizontally means that she cannot use them to support herself, and at the same
time this gives her upper body some liberty to move. We can expect quite a lot
of movement as the pain increases! Oh, one more thing; Shirley, would you please
give Nancy a shot. This is to make sure that that she won't pass out during the
operation." At this, Shirley moved round behind the girl and, sticking a
hypodermic needle brutally into the cheek of her ass, pressed the plunger.

"OK," said Mike, "here we go!" and he flipped the switch which started the
heaters.

For some moments nothing seemed to happen, until suddenly Nancy felt the
penetrator move up slightly inside her. It didn't really hurt, but she could
feel her cunt tighten around it. The next movement cause the thin rod to press
up against the tissue of her hymen.

"No, please, stop," she wailed. The pressure grew, and then a sharp pain told
her that she was no longer a virgin. A tiny trickle of blood appeared between
the lips of her sex and ran down the steel monster. Nancy burst into a fit of
sobbing.

The ice continued to melt, and the walls of her cunt started their inevitable
stretch. She cried out. "It hurts! It hurts! please stop!" The ice melted,
inexorably, her body dropped, very slowly, lower and lower, fractions of an inch
at a time, and the pain got worse and worse. Finally she screamed, it felt as
though she was being split in half. And it was far from finished, the penetrator
was only about half way up inside her. She tugged frantically at the ropes
holding her wrists, she shook her head violently, she screamed... and the
pentrator continued to force its painful way up into her pain-wracked body. She
arched up onto the tip of her toes, but the relief was only momentary, she
dropped lower, and the pain increased. She couldn't believe that anything could
hurt so much!

Then the tip of the slim rod, now deep inside her body, reached the opening to
her cervix, and penetrated it. Her screams doubled in intensity as now not only
was her cunt being stretched to the limit of rupture, of splitting open, but she
was also assailed by a new, terrible, horribly frightening pain deep in her
stomach. It was unbearable, she was sure she was going to die, die in the most
tremendous crescendo of pain any human being had ever suffered! Her eyes were
rolled up in their sockets and she no longer screamed, she howled with pain -
unlimited, never-ending pain!

Mike and Shirley watched, fascinated and not a little worried, as the steel
instrument slowly disappeared inside their writhing victim, her desperate howls
assailing their ears. Had they gone too far? What would happen if she died on
them? How could they get rid of the body. The callous pair weren't worried about
Nancy, they were far too concerned about their own skins!

Finally, the penetrator disappeared into the girl's body and her cork-soled
shoes came to rest on the heater elements, which Mike quickly turned off.
Shirley bent down and unstrapped the spreader bar from her legs, whilst Mike
freed her wrists from the restraining ropes. She was free! Free, she could move
her legs, she could use her hands! She bent forward, her hands going
instinctively to the focus of her pain. And as she did so, yet more blinding
pain flashed through her, as her bending caused the cervix penetrator to press
hard against the sides of her womb, trying to move it to a new position inside
her body. She jerked upright, still screaming, her pain-dulled brain trying to
work out what she should do. But there was nothing she could do, she was impaled
on the steel monster and there was absolutely no way she could get off it. She
pressed her hands into her belly, trying to alleviate the awful pain, one hand
went down to her sex, where she could feel the tube holding the monster inside
her. But there was nothing she could do! Except suffer!!

"TAKE ME OFF IT!!! TAKE ME OFF IT!!!!", she screamed.

Sure, now, that she could take it, they left her straddled on the steel monster
for about five minutes. She pleaded with them hysterically, promising them
anything and everything if only they would take her off it! The pain was quite
incredible, she could actually feel the pelvic bones pressing hard on the
unyielding surface of the metal. Any and every tiny movement sent additional
screams of pain racing through her body, starting at the location of the
movement and finishing almost instantaneously in her overloaded brain.

Finally, Mike bent down and fixed a steel belt round her waist. From the front
of it hung a strap. He undid the screw in the tube, dropped it down, quickly
pulled the strap between her legs and fastened it to the belt behind her. Now
she was completely free, but still the steel monster was up inside her, trapped
there, splitting her in two, stretching the pelvic bones wide apart, wracking
her womb. She felt for the strap fastening, but she couldn't undo it!

TAKE IT OUT! PLEASE! PLEEEEEEEASE!" she screamed, pitifully; standing there,
legs still wide apart. She didn't dared shut them, she knew what would happen.
In fact, she didn't dare move at all, every tiny movement providing its own
little percentage increase in the pain she was suffering.

After watching her stand there screaming and suffering untold agonies for
another five minutes, Mike undid the strap between her legs. The weight of the
steel penetrator and gravity did their job and slowly, then accelerating, it
appeared between her thighs, finally falling to the floor with a loud thud. The
pain of its exit was almost as bad as its presence inside her and Nancy gave an
ear-splitting shriek, doubling up, clutching at herself. Horror! Her questing
hands found an impossibly large hole between her legs. Had she wanted to - she
didn't! - she could easily have shoved her clenched fist up inside herself. What
had they done to her! Her body was ruined! She sank slowly to the floor, curled
up in a fetal position, her hands holding her belly and her sex, a trickle of
blood running out from between her legs. Her throat was hoarse from the
screaming. The mental anguish of imagining what had happened to her body was
almost as bad as the physical pain. She lay there, moaning, her mind almost
blank, filled only with the residues of the terrible pain - she couldn't even
think about what was going to happen to her in the immediate future. The cameras
looked down impassively on her suffering body, registering her pitiful moans.
One thing was sure, though, even if she didn't realise it - Mike and Shirley
hadn't finished with her!

Chapt 6 - The Long March

While Nancy lay moaning on the floor, totally absorbed in her pain and quite
incapable of moving, Mike and Shirley started preparations for the next round.
This involved dragging a walking machine from where it stood against one wall
out into the middle of the room. This machine consisted of an endless belt on
which fitness freaks could walk for miles in the comfort of their own homes. The
belt was driven by a powerful electric motor, coupled to a variable control, so
that the speed of the belt, and hence the speed of the walker, could be
adjusted, from a casual stroll to a full-blooded run. The machine had been
modified, at the front was a three-foot high steel post, with a metal ring
welded to the top.

During these preparations all the cameras had been switched off. Shirley now
re-arranged the gantry so that the machine was in their field of view. Mike
watched Nancy.

"I think we're going to have to give her a bit of time to recover," he whispered
to his accomplice, "otherwise she isn't going to be able to do it." Shirley,
nodded, it was obvious that the girl lying on the floor needed a respite before
they started on her again.

"Suits me, " replied Shirley. "And anyway, I'm hungry, let's go and have
something to eat."

When they came back into the room, Nancy was lying curled up in much the same
position as when they had left her. The moans had turned to sobs, wracking sobs
that shook her whole body. It was obvious to them that she was in great pain
still, her mind almost shut off, unable to cope with anything other than the
pain signals coming from her incredibly stretched sex.

Grabbing an arm each, they hauled her to her feet and lugged her over to a
parallel bar, about three feet off the ground. Draping her over it, they
strapped her ankles to the vertical bars holding, so that her feet were once
more stretched wide apart. Nancy didn't resist - truth to tell, she was only
half aware of what was happening to her. Her arms were pulled out and tied to
the ends of the bar.

Pulling a surgical glove onto his right hand, Mike, spread some K-Y Jelly onto
his fingers, and then roughly shoved his index into her anal ring. She squirmed,
more as a reflex action than from any discomfort, the intrusion was masked by
the pain in her cunt. Next, the man worked his finger around, stretching the
anal muscle, until he judged he could get a second finger inside her, alongside
the first one. He worked both fingers around, stretching the muscle further.
When he was satisfied, he nodded to Shirley, who was holding a strange-looking
metal device. This was a large speculum, and as Mike pulled his fingers out, she
thrust it into the vacated hole. Nancy was vaguely aware of what was being done
to her, but her mind was still concentrated too much on the previous pain to
really take it in. Shirley clasped the handles of the speculum in her hand and
squeezed. The jaws opened a notch, stretching Nancy's anal muscle wide open.
Still the girl didn't react to the stimulus. She squeezed it open another notch.
And another. Nancy yelled, it felt like her hole was being torn apart. Shirley
waited a moment, while the muscle accommodated this new position, then squeezed
again. This time Nancy screamed.

"No more! Please, no more, I'll die if you do!"

"No way, sweetheart!", Shirley thought to herself, "you can take quite a bit
more before you do that!" And she squeezed yet again. The pain was atrocious,
Nancy felt as though she was being ripped open, and she gave out a long,
continuous wailing scream.

Mike made a sign and Shirley released the handles. Nancy's ass-hole was now
stretched open some three inches, gaping, an invitation to have something shoved
into it. Which was just what Mike had every intention of doing. The 'something'
was a very stiff-bristled bottle brush, the nylon bristles wound in a spiral
about six inches long on a strong wire handle. Near the handle end the bristles
had been cut down to a smaller diameter for about an inch. This, of course, made
them even stiffer. Mike slipped the brush into her ass-hole, until the
reduced-diameter part of it was on a level with her anal muscle. He nodded, and
Shirley released the ratchet that held the jaws of the speculum open. They
closed over the bristles. The Shirley carefully withdrew the speculum. As she
did so, the bristles were released, springing out to dig into the delicate walls
of Nancy's rectum and anus.

It was as if the girl had been hit with a powerful jolt of electricity. She
bucked and twisted, her ass gyrating wildly, her breasts swinging from side to
side as she wrenched and pulled at her bounds, the whole accompanied by some of
the loudest screams so far. The reflex reaction of her body to the pain made
things even worse, as her anal muscle clenched, digging the hard bristles even
deeper into the highly-sensitive tissues. It felt as though she was being reamed
with a red-hot poker!

After a moment or so, Mike grabbed a handful of the girl's hair and pulled her
forwards, so that the tops of her thighs were drawn up tight against the
horizontal bar. Shirley picked up a second bottle brush, a lot bigger in
diameter that the first one, slid it into a metal tube, and carefully pushed the
tube as far as it could go into the sufferings victim's cunt, the end bristles
pushing against the cervical opening. Holding the handle of the brush with one
hand, she slowly pulled the tube out, with much the same results as for the
first one. The nylon bristles, release from the imprisoning metal tube, sprung
out to bury their points in the sensitive tissues of the girl's vagina, once
more creating excruciating pain. Nancy writhed and twisted all the more, her
pitiful screams filling the room.

Finally, Shirley slipped a noose of fine but strong nylon cord over Nancy's
clitoris and the three needles that penetrated it, then pulled the noose tight.
A leather strap was buckled around each arm, just above the elbow, her wrists
were released from the horizontal bar and her arms twisted up behind her back.
Finally, each wrist was strapped tightly to the opposite elbow. The effect was
to cause her to arch her back, thrusting out her full breasts provocatively.
Legs wide apart, in a futile attempt to relieve the pain of the bristles digging
into her, the wire handles could be seen, protruding from her sex and ass. She
clenched her muscles, trying to force the brushes out of her, but that only
increased the pain as the membranes were forced ever harder against the points
of the bristles.

Holding an upper arm each, the two torturers forced the girl to step up onto the
walking machine. That one single step was agony, as the movement of her legs
caused the brushes to roll slightly inside her, the bristles finding fresh, as
yet untouched areas of her softness to dig into. She screamed.

Shirley tied a piece of shock-cord to the end of the thin nylon leash leading to
Nancy's clitoris, then tied it to the ring in the upright rod at the end of the
machine. Then she turned one of the cameras on Mike's faceless mask.

"We call this one the Long March," he announced to the invisible audience.
"Nancy is going to take a walk, quite a long walk, without actually going
anywhere, of course. I think she will find that it will be rather an
uncomfortable one, as those nylon bristles move around inside her with the
motion! Of course, she may decide not to walk, but in that case the cord around
her clit will tighten as the walkway moves her back from the post. The pain will
increase as the shock cord is stretched. Eventually, if she persists in standing
still, and if she can take the pain, the needles will be ripped out of her
clitoris, slicing it into three parts. If that does happen, we will immediately
paint it copiously with hydrogen peroxide. This will prevent any possibility of
infection, but at the same time it will be incredibly painful, and will also
scar the torn surfaces of her clitoris, ensuring that it will remain forever in
three parts."

Nancy just couldn't believe her ears! Just standing there, concentrating on
avoiding the slightest movement, she was already in a great deal of pain. The
step up onto the machine had shown her how much worse it got when she moved. And
now this fiend was saying that she was going to be forced to walk! And, as he
had so accurately pointed out, the consequences of not walking were too terrible
to contemplate!

"YOU'RE MAD!!" she screamed at the couple of faceless figures standing on each
side of her. "YOU'RE MAD, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! LET ME GO!!!!

The only response was a hand stretching out to press a button on the console
and, with a jerk, the electric motor started the walkway moving backwards under
her. The cord tightened and the pain flashed through her as it pulled against
the three needles in her clit. Instinctively, in an act of self-preservation,
she swung one leg forward, in an awkward walking movement. The brushes rolled
inside her cunt and her anus, the bristles seeking out fresh untouched areas.
She screamed. And screamed again, and again, and again, until her screams were
continuous, as she was forced to march along the endless belt, swinging her legs
out to the side each time, in an awful parody of walking, as she tried to avoid
her body pressing on the bristles. Mike, seeing this, speeded up the machine
little by little, until Nancy was striding along almost briskly, the pain in her
sex and her ass flowing up through her body in pulses at each step. The brushes
rolled back and forth inside her, the bristles digging deeper and deeper into
her, trickles of blood now running down her thighs.

As she strode on her pain-filled way, Nancy's body broke out into a heavy sweat,
her smooth skin glistening as though it had been oiled. Her mind was in a
turmoil. How much longer would this terrible torture last? How much longer could
she endure it? Could she keep going, avoid the awful, unthinkable consequence of
stopping? These thoughts ran over and over through her mind as her screams
became hoarser and hoarser. And then, just when she couldn't take any more, the
machine suddenly stopped. She walked two more steps before the fact registered
in her pain-filled mind and she came to a halt. The lower half of her body as
one sea of pain, of fire, of flame, unbearable, and yet she had to bear it,
there was no escape from it. Worse was to come. Bending slightly, Shirley
grabbed the handle of the brush sticking out from between the cheeks of the
girl's ass and, with infinite cruelty, slowly, so slowly, started to pull it
out! Nancy screamed like a stuck pig as the pointed bristles were scraped over
the already-inflamed tissues - a red-hot poker would not have caused more pain!
As the brush was removed, her anal muscle spasmed and spasmed She thought she
would go mad from the pain. Strangely enough, Shirley did not remove the brush
in her victim's cunt

Finally she just stood there, trembling, dripping with sweat, her lower body
twitching as the spasms of pain slowly died down to an almost acceptable level.
She was only vaguely aware of what was happening as hands pulled her off the
walker and over to a gynaecological table on the far side of the room. It barely
registered on her pain-filled mind that her hands were released, that she was
pushed flat on her back, her wrists strapped to the table above her head, her
legs strapped into the stirrups and spread wide, a thick belt pulled tightly
over her smooth belly, until she was quite helpless and immobile. The wire
handle of the bottle brush poked out obscenely from between the lips of her sex.

Mike and Shirley left the room.

"Now that was quite something!" exclaimed Mike, happily. "That just about has to
be the sexiest thing I've ever seen, Christ, did she scream!"

Shirley agreed, enthusiastically. "One thing's for sure, she's not going to let
any man near her cunt, or her ass for that matter, for a long, long time! She's
going to hurt for weeks! And the great thing about it is that there won't be any
permanent damage, at least, I don't think so."

Mike laughed. "Not our problem, sweets. Damage or not, she's going to be so
frightened of what will happen to her if she goes to the police that there's no
way she is ever going to talk. And this film, once it's edited, is going to make
us a small fortune."

"True," Shirley replied, "but it's going to be a hard act to follow. What are we
going to do to the next bitch to equal this one,"

"Don't worry, I've got lots of ideas, you'll see."

"I bet you have, you evil bastard!" To tell the truth, Shirley was more than a
little scared. She knew Mike pretty well by now, and she was worried that the
next time she was bottom, he might try some of these tortures on her, he was
crazy enough. Her recent session with the TENS machine had shaken her more than
some what, she hadn't thought he would go so far. In spite of herself, she
shivered.

"Cold, sweets?" Mike asked her. "Let's get back in there and finish the film,
that'll warm you up." And so saying her led the way back into the room where
Nancy lay waiting helplessly for the next act!

Chpt. 7 - Lock-up Time

Nancy lay on the table, sobbing, tugging futilely from time to time at her
bonds, terror gnawing at her brain. The fact that they had tied her down like
this obviously meant that they had not finished torturing her, and she dreaded
whatever might happen next. In fact, she was hovering on the edge of insanity,
her mind almost refusing to accept the things that had been done to her, and
what was to come. It was on the point of closing down, as if it wanted to
dissociate itself from the pain flooding into it from her tortured body. But at
the same time she remained lucid, aware, knowing that more was to come, but
unable to face it. Unable mentally, but physically she had no choice, it was
going to happen - whatever it was - and she could do nothing to avoid it!

Suddenly she became aware of the two faceless masks, staring down at her. She
screamed.

"LET ME GO, LET ME GO, HAVEN'T YOU DONE ENOUGH, YOU FILTHY SWINE!!! PLEASE,
PLEASE, PLEEEEEASE, DON'T HURT ME ANY MORE, YOU'LL KILL ME, I KNOW YOU WILL!

There was no response. Her body writhed and twisted as she struggled once more
to get free, the milk in her breasts causing them to surge from side to side as
she did so.

Mike placed two rubber wedges on the table, one each side of Nancy's head. Then
two thin straps were tightened into place, one across her forehead and the other
just above her upper lip. Between the wedges and the straps her head was help
fast, completely immobile. Nancy wailed.

"Please, please, please don't hurt me any more! I can't take any more! Please!
PLEEEASE!

Shirley trained one of the cameras on Mike.

"We are coming to the end of the film, " he announced. "All that remains to be
done is to prepare Nancy here for her return home. However, we feel it only fair
that we provide her with some small physical souvenir of her first star
performance - and I feel sure you will agree that she has performed very well.
We would like her to remember her act for some time to come - not that she is
likely for forget it anyway - but we feel that some visual reminder would be
appropriate."

He held up what looked like a complicated pair of pliers to the camera.

"This is a leather worker's hole punch. As you can see, one jaw is perfectly
ordinary. The other one has a small wheel, on which are fixed 5 short, metal
tubes with sharpened ends. The leather, a belt for instance, is placed between
the jaws. The worker turns the wheel to select the tube he wants - they are of
different diameters - and then squeezes the handles together. The sharpened end
of the tube cuts through the leather, removing a small disc of the material and
leaving a neat, round hole. Of course, the tool can be used for making holes in
other things, as we shall see."

Nancy, terrified, stared at the punch, but in her innocence couldn't understand
what it was all about. It disappeared from her field of view. She felt Mike's
fingers hold the lobe of her left ear, the coldness of the flat jaw of the tool,
and then a blinding pain as he drove the largest of the tubes through it,
removing a bit of her flesh. She screamed. As Mike removed the punch, Shirley
panned a camera into a close-up of the ear. Surprisingly there was very little
blood, just a neat hole through the lobe.

"This," said Mike to the camera, holding up a small object, "is a lock. A
special lock. It is the type used by high-class jewellers to close display
cabinets. The hasp is made of a special toughened and hardened steel alloy that
even a pair of 3-foot bolt cutters would have a job to cut through." So saying,
he pushed the hasp through the hle in Nancy's ear and closed the lock with a
click. The hoop of the hasp was small, so it would be difficult for the jaws of
bolt-cutters to get a grip on it.

"Of course, we have no intention of giving Nancy the key, but just to make sure,
I am going to block the mechanism. This," holding up a small syringe with no
needle, "is filled with micro-balloons. These are tiny glass balls, so tiny -
0.2mm in diameter - that they flow like water." He pressed the plunger, allowing
the stream of balloons to spill down into the keyhole of the lock.

"Now this, " holding up a tiny plastic bottle with some clear liquid in it, "is
cyanoacrylate, or, if you prefer, super glue. "He let a few drops fall on the
opening of the lock, where they immediately disappeared inside. A second later a
wisp of what looked like steam could be seen wafting up from it. "The inside of
that lock is now completely filled with something harder than concrete, it will
never, ever work again. The only thing that will clear it out is an acid that
would eat the metal of the lock itself. In other words, this lock is now
permanently attached to Nancy's ear. Of course, she could always cut it out!"

Moving round to her left side, he dealt with the other ear in the same manner,
keeping up a running commentary as he did so. Then to her horror Nancy saw the
jaws of the tool move towards her nose.

"No! No! Not that, please, please, not my nose!" she pleaded. To no avail, she
felt the cold jaw slide into her nostril, and then again the blinding pain as
the tube punched a hole through her septum. The hasp of a somewhat larger lock
was pushed through the hole, clicked shut and sealed. She could feel the weight
of the lock resting on her upper lip. Mike's hand came into her field of vision,
grabbed the lock and twisted it. The pain was terrible, and she opened her mouth
to scream. As she did so, Shirley quickly fitted a dental gag over her upper and
lower teeth and operated the ratchet so that her mouth was held wide open.

The jaws of a metal haemostat were thrust, open, into her gaping mouth, seizing
the tip of her tongue and pulling it out. The jaws of the leather punch were
fitted round it and squeezed shut. The pain was mind-blasting. An even bigger
lock was fitted and frozen solid, and then her tongue was released and the gag
removed. As she tried to pull her tongue back into her mouth, the lock blocked
against her teeth. Only by opening her mouth very wide, so that it ached, could
she get her tongue back inside, and even then a part of the lock protruded from
between her lips. She panicked, trying to pull her tongue further into her
mouth, which she succeeded in doing, at the cost of pulling the lock with it.
She started to choke, and tried to push it back out. Her pierced tongue hurt
like hell, but even worse was the feeling of blind panic as she tried
desperately to work both her tongue and the lock into a position where they were
the least uncomfortable. And all the time, in the back of her mind, she was
beginning to realised that the fixture was permanent!

A camera was now focused on her face, showing the desperate movements of her
tongue and the horror in her panic-stricken eyes as she realised the plight she
was in. Mike undid the straps holding her head in place and removed the wedges,
and she twisted it from side to side, in an unthinking attempt to find some
relief. But this only flung the lock in her septum around, hurting her even
more. This sequence lasted for nearly five minutes, as the torturers gave their
audience an extended scene of Nancy trying to come to terms with the lump of
metal that was never quite inside nor quite outside her mouth. Her eyes were
filled with the panic she was feeling, an almost claustrophobic fear of choking
on the lock, of not being able to close her mouth, of the pain in her tongue.

In the meantime, a pair of wide straps were passed over her chest, one above her
breasts and one below them, and pulled tight, so that her torso was immobilised.
Mike spoke to the camera.

"You will have noticed that we have made no attempt to cause any pain to Nancy's
lovely tits," he said. "This was a deliberate choice on our part, since the last
two films contained quite a lot of tit torture and we felt you might be getting
a little bored with it. However, we cannot let Nancy go without doing something
about them, they are far too luscious and juicy to be ignored completely." When
she heard this, Nancy wailed in despair, shaking her head in negation, because
the lock prevented her from talking coherently.

Shirley bent over the table, took one of the girl's nipples firmly between
forefinger and thumb and lifted it up, stretching it out. Mike placed the punch
around the very base of the nipple and slowly squeezed the handles. The sharp
tube bit slowly, slowly, all the way through the nipple. Over her screams, he
said, casually, "With normal piercing, done with a needle, the hole will close
up and heal if there is no object in it for any length of time. With the punch,
the hole never closes, because instead of spreading out the fibres to create a
hole, it removes a piece of flesh. So, it looks like Nancy will wear these holes
for the rest of her life."

At this Nancy wailed even louder. Mike had quite a job forcing the hasp of the
lock through the hole in her nipple, because he had chosen a very small one. As
he explained to the invisible viewers, the smaller it was the closer it would be
to her skin when closed, making it that much more difficult to remove. And
indeed, when finally it was in place and he closed it, the hasp was
half-embedded in the flesh of her nipple. Shirley lifted the other nipple and
that was dealt with in the same way.

Mike then moved down and poked his forefinger in her belly button, trapping a
roll of flesh just underneath it. The punch did its painful work, to more noise
from the now hoarse throat of the supine victim and shortly Nancy was wearing a
very big lock trapped in the roll of belly flesh.

"I bet she won't be wearing any clothes that show her midriff for some time,"
said Shirley, with a sarcastic laugh.

Moving round to place himself between her open thighs, Mike took her left outer
labia and stretched out as far as he could. Then he deliberately punched three
holes through it, each one a good half-inch back from the edge. He then did the
same thing to the right-hand one. A lock was forced through the top hole on one
side, and then, drawing the lips together, he pushed the hasp through the
corresponding hole on the other side and snapped it shut. The hasp was
approximately over her clitoris, which still throbbed with pain. He repeated the
action on the second pair of holes. Then he put the hasp of the third lock
through one of the remaining holes, and then through a small ring welded to the
wire handle of the bottle brush that was still tightly rammed into the girl's
cunt. Finally the hasp was passed through the remaining hole and snapped shut,
imprisoning the brush irredeemably inside her. Nancy knew that holes had been
pieced in the lips of her sex, she could feel the lips fastened together, but
she didn't know about the brush being locked to her body, that was a surprise to
come.

"As you will have guessed," said Mike, "the idea is to make Nancy as
uncomfortable as we can for as long as possible, once we have released her. To
that end, I am now going to make sure that sitting down is a painful operation.
" So saying, he squeezed a fold of flesh on the cheek of her ass, punched a hole
and fitted a lock. The same thing was done to the other cheek. He then repeated
the operation where that very alluring crease appears, just where a woman's ass
meets the top of her thigh. A third pair of locks were positioned in the flesh
just below the top of each thigh - it was quite obvious that sitting down would
be an extremely painful operation.

"Since she won't find sitting down very comfortable, I'm afraid she may take to
walking around," he said. So saying, he moved down to her right foot, separated
her big toe from the one next to it and punched a hole through the web of skin
between them, as far back as possible with touching any bones. This was fitted
with a large lock, as was the same area of the other foot.

"Now we are going to take Nancy home and release her, " he said. "But before we
do so, I am sure you would like to see her in all her glory, so that you can
imagine how she will get around once she is free." The couple then unstrapped
the suffering girl and hauled her off the table onto her feet. Just as Mike had
hoped, one of the locks swung under her foot as she stepped onto the floor and
she wailed with pain as it bit into the sole of her foot, pulling the web of
skin between her toes painfully.

Nancy was quite a sight, her ears, nose and mouth adorned with locks. Her
nipples stuck out like she was on heat, the roll of skin on her belly was rucked
up, held that way by the hasp of the lock. She stood splay-legged, in order to
avoid crushing the bristles of the brush into the walls of her cunt, so the
locks holding her lips pressed close together were clearly visible, as was the
handle of the brush. It was quite obvious that walking was going to be a
problem, a fact which was proved by the wails of pain as each of them took her
by the arm and forced her to walk across the room.

"As usual, all good things must come to an end," Mike announced, looking
straight at the camera. "We do hope that you have enjoyed Nancy's suffering as
much as we have. We are now going to take her home and let her go, but we shall
be keeping a discrete eye on her for some time to come. We will bring you
up-to-date on how she makes out at the beginning of our next film; which will
feature the most gorgeous and voluptuous Jamaican girl you have ever seen, and
for whom we have some very original ideas. I am quite sure that, where screams
are concerned, she will give even our excellent Nancy here a run for her money.
See you soon."

Epilogue.

Nancy was driven back to the underground car park below her flat, taken out of
the van, still stark naked, given the key to her front door and left to her own
devices. She made it to her flat unobserved, the brush rolling on inside her,
her cunt and feet screaming protests to her brain at every step. Once inside,
she switched on the light, locked the door, and sank down onto a chair in
exhaustion, only to leap to her feet with yet another muffled scream as the
locks in her ass and thighs tore at her flesh. She tried to think, but it was
difficult, through the haze of pain that invaded every inch of her body, or so
it seemed. She had trouble moving, she couldn't eat or drink, and until she got
rid of the locks and brush, she certainly couldn't let anyone see her. What
could she do?

And that, dear reader, is where we end. If you have any ideas about how Nancy
should go about freeing herself from those locks and getting back to some
semblance of normality, don't hesitate to send your suggestions to the site. At
the end of one month we will judge them and pick what we consider to be the best
one. The winner will get a free pass to the site for X months. How about that!
And don't forget to look in on the production of the next film by Pain Movies,
your friendly neighbourhood torturers! Bye now.

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