The following story contains scenes of sexual activity between adults. It is not intended to be read by anyone under the age of 18. It may contain activities which are offensive to some. None of the actions depicted here actually occurred, and no animals were injured in the writing of this story. This story is fiction! The author does not condone nor promote these activities. If you have difficulty distinguishing between fact and fantasy, join the club! If it is illegal in your community/city/county/state to read sexually explicit material, then delete this story from your computer and spend the evening writing letters to your government representatives telling them to change the law. It won't do any good, but it will give you something to do. This story may be archived on any free site, provided proper credit is given and all warnings and disclaimers remain in place. If you paid a fee to read this story you have been screwed! The Ride by Paul T
The Ride by Paul T "Strip!" The command was given in a soft, firm voice, one which both thrilled and terrified the trembling young women kneeling on the floor. "Please, Master," she cried. She kept her head lowered, looking at the man's feet. Though dressed in jeans and flannel shirt, she had her knees parted and was sitting back on her heels, hands clasped behind her back. Just as she had been taught. "I didn't intend to disobey you, Master. I was only going out for a minute." "You will strip now!" came the reply. "Any further whining will only increase your punishment." She knew he meant it. He had punished her before and would not hesitate to increase the punishment for any reason. Or for no reason at all. Her hands came around and began unbuttoning the shirt, her trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons. The woman had been with her Master for several years, now. She loved him desperately, and relished his torments and humiliations. He always seemed to know what she needed, and how to best give her what she most wanted. Floggings of her breasts, ass and cunt; clamps on nipples and clit; hot wax dripped anywhere he chose. All these and more were both torment and pleasure for her. But he was always conscious of her needs, and whenever he chose to torture her thus, she was always permitted to orgasm by the end of the session. But punishments were different! She hated and feared them more than anything else. Punishments were not designed for her pleasure, they were intended as lessons. They were generally very painful, or very humiliating, or both, and there was never any sexual release for her afterwards. Some of his more diabolical punishments had kept her both in pain and constantly aroused for days, and some had taken several more days to recover from. But he had never injured her, aside from a few bruises, and those generally healed quickly. As she removed the shirt and unsnapped her bra the woman couldn't help but wonder what he had in mind for her this time. She knew he had been working on a new device in the dungeon, but he hadn't let her in on the secret yet. All she was certain of was that she would not like it. And yet, despite her fear and misgivings, she could already feel that familiar tingling in her pussy. For reasons she didn't understand, and didn't even try to analyze, the anticipation of pain always aroused her more than anything else. She didn't really enjoy the pain, not at all. Whether in play or in punishment she did not like the pain. But her body responded to it in ways that mystified her, and the anticipation, the knowledge that soon she would be screaming for mercy, had her cunt juices flowing. As she began removing the jeans, her Master asked her, "Do you understand why you are going to be punished?" "Yes, Master. I understand." "Good. Tell me what you did wrong." Falling into her slave mode, the woman responded, "This cunt is not permitted to wear any clothing which will restrict access to her cunt, ass or tits unless instructed otherwise. This cunt is to be completely available to her Master at all times." "That is correct. So why did you dress like this? Bra, jeans, panties. Three forbidden items. Why, slut?" She slid the jeans and panties off her legs and resumed her servile position as she responded. "This cunt was going to the store for groceries. This cunt thought her Master would be out of town until tomorrow. This cunt did not want to risk humiliation at the store." "So," replied the Master, "this is how you serve me? When I am not here, actually watching you, you feel you can do as you please? Is that how you love and respect your Master?" "This cunt is sorry, Master," she sobbed. "She didn't mean to upset you!" "You only THINK you are sorry, cunt. But you will learn. Put these on." He tossed her cuffs for her wrists and ankles. The woman wrapped the cuffs on her limbs and presented them to her Master for his inspection. He pulled them tighter, then locked them into place with small padlocks. "To the dungeon, slave. Now!" The woman jumped up and hustled to the basement door. She waited there while he unlocked it, then hurried down the stairs. Opening the door to the soundproofed room, she took three steps into the darkness then dropped to her knees. Once again she assumed her servile position as she waited for her Master. He stepped in behind her and began lighting the candles which were the only source of light in the room. Along with the heavy drapes, the rubberized flooring and the slight musty odor which always seems to be present in basements, the dim lighting of the candles always seemed to transport the woman to an ancient time when torture chambers were common. And again she could feel that tingle in her cunt. "Come over here," he commanded her, and she hurried to him, not wanting to anger him any more. He was near the back wall, where the winches were, so she guessed that she would be suspended in some manner. A shudder went through her. That usually meant the whips, and that meant she would be screaming for a long time. He quickly reached down and attached cables to both ankle cuffs, then went over and started winching her legs apart. At about three feet apart he stopped, and she was surprised. He usually went much further, until she though she would split in two! Then, even more surpising, instead of attaching her arms to the overhead cables, he clipped the wrist cuffs together and then locked them to the ring on the back of her collar. This had the effect of lifting her breasts somewhat, which hinted at some kind of breast torture, but he would not be able to suspend her like this. What did he have in mind? She did not wonder for long. Her Master stepped in front of her carrying what appeared to be a carpenter's sawhorse. From what she could see it was built entirely of 2 x 4's, and she quickly realized that he had built it just for her. "Riding the horse" had been something she had fantasized about, and he had promised her that someday she would, but she had not expected it to be a "punishment". She had always felt that she would enjoy the sexual torment more than fear it. Even looking at the device had her nipples and clit throbbing with excitement! He quickly slid the horse between her legs, and she noticed that it did not quite reach her pussy, though she felt it brush her thighs just below her labia. But then she noticed something else, and her face paled. Instead of being flat, like the edge of a board, the top of the horse was rounded. And serrated! He had cut notches into the wood crossways, leaving vicious looking ridges on the bar. Now he bent down and placed clamps on her cunt lips, making her jump and moan slightly, then he pulled the lips outwards and tied the clamps to her thighs, spreading her wide open. This exposed the tenderest parts of her pussy to the horse, but thankfully she was still not touching it. Then he started the winch again. Slowly, relentlessly, her feet were pulled further apart, as were her pussy lips. She felt the wood begin to push up between the labia, and then press into her clit. She pushed with her toes, the rubberized flooring allowing her good purchase, and managed to raise herself off of the bar slightly. Then the winch pulled her legs another inch or two apart, and she could barely feel the wood between her legs. Even as she began to think that this wouldn't be too bad, her calves started to tremble, and her thighs quickly followed. As her muscles tired, she relaxed her toes, and sank down onto the bar. Searing pain shot through her as her clit slid into one of the notches in the wood and was pinched in the vee. "AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" She screamed in pain and began pushing onto her toes once more. Immediately the pain in her clit eased, though the tormented nub continued to throb and ache. What frightened her, though, was that her toes were already beginning to feel the strain, and her legs were starting to tremble again! After only a few minutes she realized she would have to relieve her aching legs. Slowly she lowered herself onto the bar, leaning back slightly to keep her clit out of the notches. The pressure on her tender inner cunt lips increased, as did the pain, but it was nothing like the initial shock to her clit. But she also knew that she wouldn't be able to stay this way for too long. Already the pain in her cunt was becoming unbearable. "Ohhhhh, godddddd, noooooooo. Please, Master, noooooaaaaAAAHHHHH!" With a tremendous effort she managed to rise up on her toes once more, but almost immediately she felt the strain in her legs. And she knew that she would never be able to find a position without pain. As her calves again started to tremble she could feel the muscles tightening. "Forgive me, Master!" she cried. "I'll never disobey you again! Please, Master, save me!AAAAHHHH!" The pain in her legs was horrendous, and she once again tried to lower herself carefully onto that hateful bar. But her muscles would no longer hold her and as her legs gave out her entire weight forced that bar up into her folds and pressed against her clit. "AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!! PLEEEEEEEESE, NOOOOOOOOO!AAAHHHHHHHHH!" Her body convulsed in pain and she rocked back off of her clit, but managed to pinch other tender parts in the serrations. Her feet flailed wildly as she tried to regain her footing and ease the pain in her crotch. Standing to one side, the Master checked his watch. He had already decided on ten minutes for each of the forbidden articles of clothing. As he watched the second hand sweep past the twelve on the dial he thought, "That takes care of the bra. Only twenty more minutes to go." And as the shrill screams of his slave echoed through the dungeon he wondered if THIS time she would finally learn her lesson! End
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