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Review This Story || Author: Yamesh

Bloom

Part 6 Sharing the Love

Warning: This story contains descriptions of torture. If you are a minor or are easily offended by this type of content, then please do not read.

Bloom: Part 6 – Sharing the Love

There were definite benefits to having Sandra upstairs now; one of them was to put her bidet idea into action. Karen loved to get up from the toilet and just walk into the bedroom and make Sandra lick her clean. She just used the commands “front”, and Sandra would have to clean her pussy, licking the drops of pee still clinging onto her pubic hairs, or “front and back” for messier duties. This made going to the toilet far from mundane; it became instead a thrilling and erotic event. At night, as Karen sat in bed reading, she would have Sandra sucking and licking her feet, making sure that she got every little crevice between and under the crooks of the toes clean. This was something Karen would make Sandra do for hours, until Karen's toes were wrinkled like prunes.

Sandra's tongue was busy constantly: if she wasn't using it to service Karen in the increasingly numerous ways that Karen thought of, she would use it to drink water from her dog dish. But by far the job most required for Sandra's tongue was performing cunnilingus. Several times a day Karen would mount Sandra's face and wildly ride it, alternating between making her lick Karen's pussy and reaching her tongue deep into Karen's rectum. “Deeper!!” Karen would bark as Sandra frantically tried to stretch her tongue as far as it would go, trying to stave off some horrendous punishment that would result in not following the commands. It was during one of these times when Sandra was licking Karen's most secret place that Karen began to formulate a perfectly devious plan; resulting in more pleasure for herself, and a delicious torment for Sandra. The thought drove her wild with delight as she rolled it over and over in her mind and she smudged up Sandra's face more than usual as she convulsed in a powerful orgasm. If Sandra only knew what caused that extra intensity….

After a few days of research and preparation, Karen was finally ready. She led Sandra down to the basement and once at the bottom injected her with a dose of tranquilizer. This was necessary, as Karen knew Sandra would never willingly be led back to the stretching table, no matter what threats Karen vowed. Sandra had to be un-cuffed to be secured, and that was too risky of an action to be undertaken without precautions. Taking her time, Karen placed Sandra on the table and secured her wrists and ankles, then stretched her out to a taught – but not painful – position. It was time to prepare for the operation.

Several hours later Sandra awoke to find herself on the dreaded rack. Her head was secured this time with two leather straps allowing for nothing but the slightest movement, why was this? Already shaking with fear, she tried to psychologically prepare herself for the painful moments that lay ahead, but it was no use…how does someone steel themselves for such pain? She was sure people could do it, stories of soldiers resisting horrendous tortures were common, but where did they go mentally? Did they focus on something else, or just find a way to shut their minds down? She wished she knew the answers because she desperately needed them. Waiting seemed as bad as anything else as she laid on the hard wooden table staring up at the ceiling.

It seemed like hours (but was probably just a few minutes) before Sandra heard the heavy basement door opening. She saw the witch coming down the stairs out the corner of her eyes, except it wasn't exactly a witch, as Karen was dressed in a skimpy artificial nurse uniform. This brought back vague memories of the confused thoughts Sandra had while she was at the height of her sickness last month. However, this had very ominous implications as Karen also carried a medical bag and towels. Sandra let out a low moan as she watched Karen saunter up to the table, then lightly trace Sandra's body with her finger as she placed the medical bag near her head. Karen then got up and straddled Sandra, sitting on her chest, and quietly spoke: “I'm afraid this is going to be painful for you Sandra, but trust me, if you do not cooperate fully, I will make things far worse. You'll understand, my dear, if you just use your imagination.” Karen began unpacking her bag and began to remove items that alarmed and horrified Sandra …first the gauze bandages…then the dental gag…then pliers and scalpel!?! Putting on rubber gloves like a trained professional, Karen noticed that she was already dripping wet, and began to grind on Sandra's belly. “Please Karen, please, I'll do anything you ask.” Sandra's voice frailly shook.

Karen thought having Sandra call her mistress or goddess, or anything of the type was silly. She thought it was much more erotic to have her call her Karen, it made it seem as they could be equals or even friends - a friend that does unspeakable things to the other. Likewise Karen would never call Sandra ‘slave'…it was so fake. Of course Sandra was her slave! Sandra was the slave, and Karen was the keeper, no need to attach formal labels to this. That was for the play actors in the BDSM scene, the ridiculous people dressed in leather. This was real life, however the irony that she was now dressed in a fake nurse uniform was not lost on Karen.

“I know you will honey, and I do appreciate that. But this won't alter your looks any; this will actually give you better abilities. It will be like an upgrade.” Karen then took the dental gag and began securing it to Sandra's head. This forced Sandra's mouth to stay wide-open giving Karen complete access to do what she wished. Sandra began to moan through the discomfort of the gag stretching her mouth like that, but then her eyes popped wide open and she began to shriek as she saw Karen pick up the scalpel and pliers. She tried thrashing about but the straps on her head held her rigid, and Karen leaned over very close to her face and softly, intimately said “Now settle down. Remember what I said – it can be a lot worse than it has to be if you don't cooperate.” Sandra, trembling with fear and dread, started to manage her hyperventilating and to gain control of herself.

“Much better, Sandra. I'm proud of you!” Karen said, grabbing Sandra's tongue with the pliers and pulling upwards to the roof of Sandra's mouth. Sandra moaned strenuously and tensed all over at the pain, tears running down as Karen began to softly rock back and forth on Sandra's chest as she brought the scalpel under Sandra's tongue. Now stretched and clearly visible was Sandra's sublingual frenulum – the web-like piece of skin securing the tongue to the bottom of the mouth. This bit of skin prevented the tongue from sliding further out of the mouth, and Karen was going to perform a tongue frenectomy, enabling Sandra's tongue slide further out, and in essence to 'lengthen'. A quick slice was all it took, severing the frenulum and causing Sandra to scream more in shock than in pain. “Quiet!!” Karen barked as she carved the bottom portion of the web, dislodging it completely. Karen then began packing in gauze bandages to soak up the blood, muffling Sandra's cries. “All done Sandra, that wasn't so bad was it?” Letting loose a stream of juice on Sandra's quivering chest, Karen bent down and passionately kissed and licked Sandra's face. Karen licked up the tears as well, savoring the salty results of her handiwork. If there was a heaven on earth it was here for Karen, while Sandra wallowed in her private hell.

The taste of blood was with Sandra for several days, as Karen had to constantly change the gauze she packed into Sandra's mouth. Karen had given Sandra glasses of water with a straw instead of her usual dog dish, as it was impossible for Sandra to use her tongue in any normal way while it was healing. While the initial ‘surgery' wasn't that painful, the resulting aftermath had been almost unbearable. Any movement of her tongue caused sharp pains in Sandra's mouth, and she ended up simply clenching her jaw tightly shut to prevent any accidental movement. The gauze in her mouth helped, but it was terribly painful when Karen replaced it with a fresh batch. Karen mercifully loaded some of the later packs with over-the-counter medication for toothaches causing Sandra's whole mouth to go numb, and to drool all over herself.

As Sandra recovered, Karen had to soothe herself by watching Sandra on her monitors and using her favorite glass dildo. It was SO invigorating to think of remolding her victim, permanently making her into something different than she was. Even if she somehow escaped, she would always carry an everlasting reminder of the changes Karen had made to her. The thought of that, and the sight of Sandra suffering through her recovery brought Karen to many orgasms. However, once again, that particular thrill started to fade… Karen needed to think of some other way to torment her victim to feel the jarring electricity of arousal she had become addicted to. The thing was, she really didn't want to risk doing anything physical to Sandra right now… but if she could show Sandra something shocking, wouldn't that be even better? Karen recalled a news report she saw about Sandra few days ago, and had a brilliant idea.

Six days later Karen was rushing around downstairs, running cable, setting up a TV and audio. Tonight was the big night! Sandra had a sinking feeling…anytime Karen was excited meant depraved things were in store for her, and judging by the amount of enthusiasm Karen was displaying, today was bound to be especially dreadful. Karen placed the TV close to Sandra, but still out of reach. On the screen was a view of Karen's living room, specifically her huge oversized couch. This couch looked more like a bed, and Sandra briefly pondered how it could even be used as normal couches were. As Karen turned the sound up on the external speakers, Sandra could hear a small radio that was just visible in the corner of the screen. The sound came through loud and clear – Karen was testing the volume of the camera's microphone and it was obvious that she wanted Sandra to see and hear something…something that Karen was taking particular enjoyment in presenting. Karen hummed a far off tune as she placed extra gauze in Sandra's mouth and secured it with tape, wrapping it around Sandra's head several times. Sandra was cuffed behind her back once again, and this prevented any attempt at removing her gag. “There! I have to run along now Sandra, you be a good girl and watch the show!” Karen winked at Sandra and giggled to herself as she bounded up the stairs. Whatever she had planned was going to begin shortly.

About five hours had passed before Sandra saw anything on the TV. At first she just saw shadows and light changes, and the sound of muffled voices. Someone else was upstairs with Karen! If she could somehow let that person know she was down here! Wait, maybe that person was in league with her? Maybe she brought someone over to torture Sandra with her. Impossible…no one was as depraved as Karen…of that she was certain. The voice was that of a man, possibly one she had heard before? The shadows moved into the room, then something blocked the view totally, a blurry close-up of a striped shirt was all that was visible for a few minutes. That voice . They were talking about Sandra…they were talking about her! How he missed her, but it was how he said the name…

SANDRA…

how she heard it said like that a thousand times before…how she loved the way he said it…her love …her fiancé …Tom! “ Oh my god Karen has Tom upstairs!! Oh god! If he could only hear her!!” Scream!! All that was produced was a weak muffled cry, which escaped her gag and was immediately sucked up within the heavily soundproofed walls. Tom moved and sat down next to Karen on the couch, and Sandra saw his face for the first time in months and cried. Tom was crying too… Karen… was there to console him. Then Tom leaned forward and Sandra saw the bitch fully, with her fucking HAIR on!! Karen started screaming hysterically, but all that came out was more pitifully muted sounds. Sandra felt dread quickly flood out the anger as she saw Karen offer a quick sly smile to the camera before going back to the performance of mock sympathy that was steadily drawing Tom in closer and closer to her. Was she going to capture him too? The thought terrified her…but a part of her would relish the company, to see his face, to let him know what she had been through. No, the cunt just wanted to drive her prisoner insane watching Karen seduce him, and Sandra was compelled to stare and listen. All the previous pain was nothing compared to this, nothing physical could ever equal the anguish of this torment.

Karen moved in closer as her arm was draped around Tom's shoulder, it had been so easy! She had seen an interview with him days before as he talked about his upcoming marriage plans with Sandra, and the devastation that her disappearance had caused…the devastation Karen had caused! She found that he worked at a local art store and went in to buy supplies after waiting for the existing customers to leave. Karen wore the wig of Sandra's hair, along with some perfume she had found in Sandra's purse. He didn't see her come in as he was in the back, and Karen purposely stood facing away from where he was, pretending to look at supplies, so all he could see was her hair. Tom's heart stopped as he saw Sandra standing with her back to him. He quickly dropped the box he was carrying and rushed over to see her…”Sandra!!” Could it be?!! But when she turned it wasn't her…it was a stunning, slightly more mature woman with deep green eyes. This was a true lady, not a girl. He apologized, he thought she was someone else, Tom looked badly shaken. The perfume…Karen could tell he recognized it. Yes, she was looking for some spray lacquer for some printouts…what type was the best? Hadn't she seen him somewhere before? Oh my gosh, the missing girl! Fiancé…oh god, I'm so sorry! She made Tom cry as she let him tell her the whole story. Oh you poor boy… she pulled him close to her breast as he sobbed…and his demeanor changed ever so slightly…he was very aware of how close he was to her breast. The smell of her perfume, it was just like Sandra's…and her hair , if he didn't know better… Funny how things weren't quite as sad now. She held him for a long time, so long that it became awkward, the moment had passed from being sympathy to now being sensual, and it was equally as awkward to separate. If he ever wanted to talk, or needed anything here was her number…

The phone rang that night. She would take him out to dinner, she insisted. A few drinks in him and she poured on her sexuality, so easy, so vulnerable. He was like a puppet in her hands and she performed like a master. She had to go meet some friends but maybe he would like to come to her house…Friday? It is a little out of the way but she could promise a nice time.

So here she was, performing her little puppet show for Sandra. Tom, the fiancé/marionette dancing in Karen's hands, as she stages her tragic comedy. He was kissing her now, and she kissed back with a simulated passion worthy of an award. Karen's elegant red starlet dress slipped easily off revealing her black lace lingerie, fishnet stockings and renaissance garter belt. She laid back on the sofa and tugged him by his belt, unbuckling it as she pulled him closer. He responded in turn by stripping off his shirt, as Karen pulled his pants down displaying the extent of his hardness for the first time. She then grabbed his cock, kneading it like she would dough, but stopping short of getting him off too soon. Karen pulled her panties off and placed his hand on her bush, spreading her legs in an invitation to enter. As he moved in to mount her, Karen instead pushed his head down hard towards her pussy, and forced his mouth upon her. At first he resisted, but as she wrapped her legs around his head she held him firm, and he gave in. She then turned towards the camera, winked, and licked her lips. Karen was incredibly wet, not so much because of Tom eating her out, but because of the thought of what this was doing to Sandra. She stared at the camera as she gasped for breath, the warm flush expanding upwards, then exploding as she envisioned Sandra's tear-stained face within the cameras lens.

Karen then eased Tom onto his back, making his member proudly stick up straight for the benefit of the audience of one, and she briefly toyed with it, licking and stroking it with her mouth. She was now sitting reverse on top of Tom's chest, her front to the camera, never taking her eyes off the virtual Sandra. Tom moaned as Karen positioned her hairy pussy just on the tip of Tom's cock and held it there for a moment. She then rubbed back and forth on the very tip of his cock, listening to his now frustrated breaths…the friction plus the anticipation was driving him wild. “Tom, you want to fuck me, not Sandra, right?” Karen asked waiting for the correct answer before proceeding. “Yes! Yes! I want to fuck you, only you!” Karen dramatically cocked her head at the camera after hearing the acceptable reply, and rewarded him by ever so slowly easing his cock inside her hot wet hole, little by little sliding the whole length into her. She mouthed “Feels so good!” for Sandra's benefit, winked again at the camera, then began slowly pumping up and down.

“I want you to forget Sandra for now Tom.” Karen used the words artfully and at the correct moment to hold off his impending ejaculation. She pumped stronger now and used more force as she slammed her ass down again and again on his groin. “You have to move on… (pump...pump)… move on to me Tom.” The words were startling but rang true; he watched her glorious ass pounding repeatedly and knew if anyone could make him forget Sandra it was this vixen…he couldn't hold back any longer…the resulting eruption made him cry out in pleasure as she sat down hard on his cock, wiggling her hips side to side in an effort to extract everything he had. Karen rolled over onto her back; her head draped upside down over the edge of the couch still staring at the camera, and started laughing. “That was wonderful!” She said while caressing Tom's shoulders with her feet…but she wasn't speaking to Tom…Karen was speaking to the devastated creature who lay sobbing at the bottom of her cellar.


Review This Story || Author: Yamesh
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