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Review This Story || Author: Lex Ludite

A Month in the Highlands

Chapter 4

				A Month in the Highlands


				     Chapter 4


	"It lives, how nice." This new voice dripped with menace, and I debated
whether to remain with eyes shut and possibly incur her wrath, or open them and
confront my fears. I opted for the latter choice and stared into the glittering
eyes of the sharp-faced woman in the housecoat who I had observed previously.
Her horn rimmed glasses gave that face an even more sinister look; she reminded
me of one of those birds of prey hovering over its next victim, which in this
particular case was me.

	Mistress Martha complained bitterly at my lack of staying power, stating
that other slaves had endured far more from Two than I had, and still were
conscious and able to take even more punishment. I mentally took exception to
her remarks, but wisely held my tongue. She went on to admit that she had tired
of me since this foolish rule about no blood was preventing her from doing other
more entertaining things to my body. Her grim-faced companion said nothing, but
I could feel her sizing me up for whatever she had in store for me.

	 "Follow me, on your knees and be quick about it. We have much to do
before your mistress seeks you out." I crawled after her as she strode
imperiously towards a rather inobtrusive entry way partially concealed by a dark
curtain. This was her own private lair, not officially of course, but due to the
nature of who she was and what she did to those slaves unfortunate enough to
fall into her clutches. All this knowledge, which was gained in the most painful
of ways, might have allowed me to better prepare for what was to occur.

	I crawled into a small, dimly lit room where a number of slaves waited
for their mistress to bring back the latest meal for them to fed on. She shouted
instructions as two of them placed me against a low rectangular wooden frame and
lashed me to it with my legs bent and pulled up to the rings used to anchor them
in place, and my wrists pulled to the sides and fastened to another set of
rings. Then my head was forced back until it hung over the top portion of the
frame. A leather collar was fitted to my neck and attached to the frame to keep
me in this awkward and decidedly uncomfortable position. I was now staring
upwards at the dark ceiling, my naked body spread upon the frame, vulnerable to
whatever torments this cruel mistress could devise. I suddenly realized that in
this position my head was about the same height as a normal man's crotch. The
implications caused my blood to chill.

	A fixture resembling a ruff, only more bowl-shaped, now captured my
head. It was pulled tight around my neck, inches up from the leather collar I
now wore, causing me to have some difficulty drawing breath.  It was then that I
felt a coarse hand begin to manipulate my penis, which was still stiff from the
stimulants I had been dosed with before I left with my mistress for the club.
"That's not good enough, give him some of these pills and make sure he swallows
then down with a goodly amount of piss." Her words added to my fear that
something terrible was about to occur to my person.

	A hand grabbed my hair and yanked hard as another voice shouted, "Open
that trap of yours and swallow these pills if you know what's good for you!" At
the same time I felt the disembodied hand pulling the foreskin back from my
uncut penis until tears filled my eyes. I did as I was instructed and then I
heard a laugh  before a stream of foul smelling piss began filling my mouth. I
was hard pressed to keep up with the flow but I was determined not to choke
which would make matters only worse. My plan was thwarted when someone kicked me
in the stomach. I coughed up the pills and some of the piss that had been
flooding my insides. I was punished with a second kick, lower, more into the
groin area and I was lost. I choked and sputtered, all the while still taking on
this seemingly unending stream of rancid tasting piss. Again a hand forced a
handful of pills into my mouth, and a voice said, "You puke these up, I'll crush
your balls into  paste."

	The piss stopped and I was allowed to regain my equilibrium. Within
minutes the pills began to take hold. My penis began to feel warm and then hot
as more and more blood flowed into it, increasing its girth and even its length.
For the first time I felt her dust-dry hand touching my twitching shaft, running
her fingernails up and down its length and then scraping the tender flesh of my
glans, no longer protected by a layer of foreskin.

	"The next time you visit my little parlor I think I'll circumcise you to
get rid of this ugly wrinkled skin that makes it so difficult to get at the more
sensitive regions of that sticker of yours. It will be very painful when I do
it. I believe in giving those I operate on as much pain as possible; that's why
the knife I use will be dull, very dull. It will be even more painful when I
cauterize that nasty tool to prevent you from bleeding to death. I use a lit
cigarette to perform this part of the operation and it can sometimes take up to
an hour, which means many cigarettes, before the job is done. Then I'll make you
hard as steel and let you enjoy your new penis in the asshole of one of my
slaves, preferably a young one who is still tight to add to your discomfort."

	Despite her threats and my dismal prospects for leaving this dark and
dreary countryside with my body intact, my penis grew even harder. I could not
believe it was entirely the pills doing it. I fear that the masochistic side of
my personality was becoming excited about the prospect of having my penis
mutilated. I remember how I felt when my new mistress was describing what she
might do to turn me into a pretty maid with a fully functional vagina. The idea
of being able to pleasure a male as a woman while I was simultaneously
pleasuring a dripping female's secret places with my well trained tongue was a
thrilling diversion. The closest I had come to such a condition was being
sodomized by a dominant male while at the same time I was licking and sucking
the vagina of a mistress who was in her period.

	My introspection was destroyed by this terrible pain originating in the
vicinity of my scrotum. My testicles felt as if they were in a vise that was
crushing them to a pulp. There was this awful sensation of having my scrotum
being torn from my body. I began to panic as the pain increased; there was
nothing to do except shreik. I received another kick to the stomach for my
troubles, followed by an even harder blow that landed inches from my straining
penis. "I didn't know you were a sissy slave disguised as a male. A real male
would hardly notice a one stone weight added to his nut sack." Her voice mocked
my pain and cut into my self confidence as the pain leveled off at a point that
was barely below my limit.

	The mental torment began anew. "I suppose you'd make a great deal of
noise if I added another one stone weight to the head of that little thing you
call a cock. I guess I'll have to make due with another little exercise of that
stiff thing." As she spoke I could feel something wrapping around the exposed
head of my penis and then tightening until I thought it would cut into my
sensitive flesh. I bit my lip to prevent myself from cryng out and being mocked
further. "Good, you're capable of learning, there may be hope for you yet, but
not too much my sissy slave in disguise." The pain from this thing noosing my
penis head reached a crescendo and then my organ began to accommodate itself to
the pain once I realized it was not going to either cut or competely sever my
penis.

	I began to calm down and see if by relaxing I could better deal with the
numerous painful sensations that were bombarding me. Without warning, the
pressure on my scrotum disappeared; my heart leaped with relief for a brief
moment and then the one stone weight was dropped and I was revisiting that world
of agony, now intensified by the speed in which it returned. I heard her
cackling in the background. Now something was being pushed into my rectum; it
felt rather small almost like a suppository. Another followed and I waited,
anticipating some new pain or unpleasant surprise. I was not disappointed.

	Gradually whatever they were began to create a burning sensation within
my rectum and as time passed the prickling turned to a steady fiery assault on
my sensitive flesh. She leaned close to me and almost whispered, "These are
cloves, my sissy slave; they are used to make certain types of show horses keep
their tails in the air. I wonder if they'll work the same way on that lttle cock
of yours." Then I felt her fingernails raking the length of my penis once more
and this time when she dug her talons into the head of my penis I nearly fainted
from the pain.

	Things took a decided turn for the worse when one after another, people
began urinating onto my face. With time I began to realize that the ruff was
acting as a cistern, capturing and holding the urine that I didn't swallow. What
frightened me was the fact that no effort was being made to force me to ingest
the acrid fluid that showered down upon my upturned face. A chair was provided
to allow the women, evidently all slaves, to add to my misery. Some of them even
balanced themselves precariously so that I could lick their rancid cunts and
thighs clean of any residue.

	The stench of my surroundings began to take its toll as the cascade of
waste continued unabated. Now as the urine splattered into the pool that had
formed around my head, the splashings started getting into my eyes and nostrils.
For the first time I was facing my chief tormentor, and she gave me a smile that
froze my blood. "It looks as if my sissy slave is going to have to start
swallowing these golden offerings or drown in them. This should be so much fun
to watch." I knew she was correct, and so I began to swallow as much piss from
these people as I could.

	Gradually I felt my stomach becoming rounder and then bulging as the
flow of urine continued. My mind struggled to rationalize my predicament. Sooner
or later there would be no more slaves left to provide this never ending golden
shower; I would survive. It was then that someone kicked me in my bulging
stomach and I began to vomit up most of what I had just ingested. I was on the
verge of losing control, panic was beginning to set in. Now someone was painting
my eyes with her stream of stinking liquid waste.I instinctively shook my head
and managed to get more than I bargained for as a considerable amount of urine
got into my nostrils and began causing me to choke. Again a heavy foot planted
itself in my belly and I brought up more urine as well as a few chunks of my
morning meals, which had been considerable. Now there were half digested feces
floating inches from my face.

	 I heard her voice once more. "Enough, let the sissy slave marinate in
his own shit and piss for a time, then I'll introduce that little cock to my
friend, Rex." For a moment I relaxed, which was a mistake. My belly was caved in
once more by a ferocious kick from a booted foot, most likely a master come to
have some fun with the new slave. I regurgitated the remaining bile and other
noxious material that was being converted by my stomach's acids. I felt very
close to losing my senses and allowing this sea of filth to have its way with
me.



				(To be continued) 



Review This Story || Author: Lex Ludite
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