Upon entering the grotto the next morning, I expected to clean up the tailings from their dining. What a shock seeing her as I left her. A couple kicks — she stirs and moans.

I had satiated myself and expected to share this morsel with my friends living amongst the trees and slopes of the mountain. To prepare the feast I hogtied and wrapped her head and hands with tape. Looking down at her now I could see hair stuck to the tape and covering the ground, It looked as if they had laid beside her — maybe to keep her warm.

Many days have passed since that cold misty Fall morning surprise. She continues to reveal the wisdom of the mountain.

Just when she seemed resigned to the “adjustment” routines, I added, probably, the most terrible one she could imagine. I sensed that she had a lot at stake with her hair grooming. Removing this last vestige of her vanity would completely empty her. I hooked up a double bind pushup rig by weaving her hair into a pulley. As her arms tired she could pull her hair out. She is a strong cunt — she resisted for at least an hour. Then, just as she began to collapse, I placed the scissors within her grasp.
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The coyotes will have a feast; her valiva runs thick and copiously.
I am beside myself with this whore. She cringes at my attentions yet her body pulses, reaching out for more. This is the ultimate state and the final betrayal. Her mind and sense of self have hopelessly failed.

I readied her with a tight clam tie and placed her in the middle of the mattress. Implements of penetration surround the altar. Letting her stew for a couple hours will afford her the opportunity to amuse herself by imagining how they all will be used.

It was time for the trail. Blindfolded and guided by the rope cleaving her cunt she is yanked up the hill. Every step is a fright and her soles are jabbed by stubble and shale. Arriving at the grotto I bind her to a tree. Her skull hole is stuffed with two shop rags and sealed with packing tape. For added measure her jaw is sealed shut with a wrap over the top of her head. Her screams will barely be audible over the caw of the crows.

The crows are announcing a new arrival; the feast is at hand. Lets begin with some crimson life essence drawn as the whine of the mosquito fades in an out about her head.
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The Horror & The Grace

“The horror and the grace”, she knows that line all too well. Poetically, it describes her predicament perfectly. Her inability to remember the lines, under the stressors that Creep delights in applying, will result in much suffering.

The electrified prod strapped into her cunt is a case in point. Creep dressed her for the occasion with leather mittens pulled up between her shoulder blades and locked to the choke collar stretching her neck. Of course, she is adorned in the inevitable pantyhose. He loves stretching them, like another skin, over her lower extremities. A tight corset limits her breathing and the pantyhose accentuate her long legs.

She leans over a grubby kitchen table, wobbling in a pair of black high heels, reading from his iPad. She recites Percy Shelly’s “Medusa”. Deportment is strict. She must recite the lines while gazing at him. When she falters he presses the buttons on the remote sending a pulse of Faraday’s juice through her nethers to induce contractions. She must commit this poem to memory for he has promised her a session with the cane — a stroke for every faulted line.

Creep is living in a romantic horror. He is beguiled by the grace that is hidden in the character of this whore. The sexual substance of his schizoid world is to design ordeals that arouse terror in her. This is such a gripping pleasure as he studies her struggle; her expressions of suffering in the memories he collects on his tablet. Yet, his tending and obsession to this seeming pray — has convoluted his lust. Fixated upon her, his gaze is becoming a mirror of himself.
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A dreamy week of delightful play

Trips to the county fair are always resourceful. The animals are wonderful and there is that undertone of care and love they receive. The tools of husbandry are especially interesting and one device has always fired my imagination: the grooming table.

It is with such delight and reflection I stand over her now, enjoying a good Camel smoke. She is most beautiful with a black latex smother hood stretched over her head. It is a nice contrast from that painted face mounted in the wall a few days back. I inserted a couple rubber tubes up her nose holes to ensure there is no mishap with breathing. This was a safety measure as she has been locked on all fours stewing since sunrise.

My knees are killing me!!! The only relief is to carefully hang my weight from that damnable ass hook he seems to love so much. I’m sweating from this exertion. I feel the sweat squishing around my chin and mouth. The tubes jammed up my nose are maddening and my breath is labored because of them. I am engulfed in an oppressive, sticky blackness. The pressure, which was a mere sensation when he pulled it over my head, is aching now. The wickedest tickling and pricking assaults my skin; I imagine it must be flies or mosquitos feasting.

I hear the door slam. Though I cannot see or hear his movements, I am sure he is up to something. My mind swirls with imaginings of what he is about to do. My head screams, “Please do something!” The terror of what my own thoughts conjure reverberate in this smothering blackness.

Do I sense that he is close? I hold my breath to empty any sound in my head. Suddenly an acrid stench assaults my nose when I finally inhale. That fucker is blowing smoke at me. I can’t avert my head as it is locked at the neck. With every inhale I receive another dose. I cannot escape it; I feel dizzy — my body tingles and trembles.
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These fiendish instruments are agony, I pray he will return.

Her condition has become more ingrained. She has been in the ass bar ring for 48 hrs. I took her arms out of play by shackling them to the back of the ass ring. Her ankles are shackled together, thus, her legs can afford her little balance. She is forced into a crunch position and her only mobility is waddling on her ass. I am delighted that the monitoring system is fully implemented; now I can watch her from anywhere.

This is insufferable! My ass and back are constantly aching. How long have I been like this? I fear if I try to recline I will fall over and not be able to sit up again. I have shown no complaint or resistance to his machinations — I dare not. I think this strategy is working as he has not threatened me. He lavishly enjoys the perversity of this bondage and the way he manipulates me. It dominates my mind. I am utterly dependent on him. My isolation has turned my mind to only him — I look forward to his return, though this thought is abhorrent!

I am famished and thirsty — clearly, this is intentional, if I had to subscribe some purpose to this madness I suspect he wishes to control me in a more sophisticated manner; something beyond force, coercion and sex. He obviously is maniacal and highly organized in in the methods he employs to terrorize me. This infernal bar he has locked on my head goes to the back of my tongue and has begun to rust from my saliva. The taste of iron is the only thing that wets my palate. The drooling is constant — I am so thirsty that I tip my head back and try to swallow it.

This discharge is not the worst though. Desperate to relieve myself I wiggled over to the iron grill he has chained me to and expelled a shit through the grate. I piss on the floor boards. Though it is a torturous effort I discovered that I can roll onto my back and then my side. This has to be positioned carefully for I can then use my tongue to lick up the piss.
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Abigail Dupree came here to quench her thirst for intense BDSM. Jack Hammer came here to take a sexy, young woman, strip her down and put her to the ultimate test of her limits. She was expecting a lover who would dote on her and pay attention to her needs. What she got instead was a strong man, dispassionately going about breaking her body and her will.

He comes to her, splits her pantyhose with a knife, and begins fucking her with Mr. Pogo while she screams into her gag. She should count herself as lucky that he didn’t use the knife. All three of her holes are going to get a work out. The metal hook will take her ass, and the dildos and gags will teach her the two most important things she can do with her mouth, sucking cock and keeping quiet.

But she is lobster girl for a reason. Jack has a huge bath of water ready, and a blow torch making sure it’s nice and hot. Caged and drooling, Abigail is in a state of complete panic as he begins to lower her into the pot. Screaming and crying, Abigail’s worst fears are coming true. Maybe she should have been better at enticing Jack to keep her around.

Tags: Abandonment, Alt Model, Ass Hook, Belt Bondage, Black High Heels, Cage, Candle, Caning, Choke collar, Cloth Gag, Corset, Cut Clothing, Dildo, Face Bondage, Foot Torture, Harness Gag, Hitachi, Hot Wax On Feet, Knife Play, Labia Clamps, Metal Bondage, Metal Gag, Nipple Clamps, Nose Hook, Orgasm, Pantyhose, Peeing, Ring Gag, Eating, Heat Play, Predicament Bondage, Stocks, Tape Gag, Water
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Conjugal visits are rare in the U.S. but PD does not run the average prison. He keeps only one or two inmates at a time and for one as hot as Charlotte Vale he is definitely going to take advantage of her. She gets to languish a bit while he contemplates exactly what to do with her. It is likely to be the only peace she will get all day.

It is a long day and it shows no sign of ending as the sun goes down. Out in the woods PD may not have all of his tools available, but the one that matters is ready to go. She was let out of her cell for a reason and it was not just to look pretty and take a beating. PD wants to use her and if she wants to stay out of the deepest, darkest, dirtiest hole he can find she is going to perform.

Life is tough for Charlotte Vale. This day starts with a rude awakening. She had to spend the night locked away with her mouth in prime cock-sucking position because that is what the man that owns her wants. Now she needs to demonstrate what that experience has taught her. While most people would enjoy eggs and bacon for breakfast, hers is just dry oats swimming in her own juice. She needs to eat. She is starving but he will not give her anything else. She has to eat it, as much as it makes her wretch.

There is cold, electrified metal inside of her now. PD wants to watch her cum, but all Charlotte wants is a warm cock. Her screams and her tears are what make him hard, and that is the nature of her predicament. To get the fucking she so desperately desires she has to take the pain and humiliation that terrifies her.

Tags: Blow job, Cage, Caning, Celebrator, Foot Caning, Foot Torture, Oral Penetration, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Pussy Caning, Shackles, Sucking, Toe Bondage, Vibrator, Wall Cage, Abandonment, Ass Play, Breast Caning, Eating, Electrical Play, Fucking, Handcuffs, Pissing, Ring Gag
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London River is hot enough to make PD think about doing extremely terrible things to that body of hers. The kinds of things that make girls slip into a new state of mind, subspace, and make them forget that they were ever anything other than some man’s sex toy.

It starts with stripping her, both of her clothing and her dignity. He cuts away the pretty dress she is wearing, piece by piece, leaving first her tits exposed, and then the rest of her. She’ll get something more befitting her station to wear later.

She also needs to be shown how to respond to his attention. She can’t just expect him to treat her softly and give her mind blowing orgasms without getting a little something in return. PD loves to watch his girls suffer. He keeps them around just for the times when he wants to hear a lady scream her brains out. Whether it’s with whip, or cane, or his bare hands, he has a lot of ways to make a girl sing the songs he wants to hear.

This piece is inspired by Quoom’s article “Caught in Pyongyang” found on Quoom.com

Tags: Abandonment, Blue Eyes, Cattle Prod, Celebrator, Chains, Cloth Gag, Cut Clothing, Dildo, Dog Bowl, Funnel Gag, Handcuffs, High Heels, Hitachi, Hood, Masturbation, Medieval Torture Methods, Metal Collar, Neck Play, Orgasm, Pantyhose, Pogo, Predicament Bondage, Reluctance, Ring Gag, Single Tail, Sweat, Tape Gag, Tickling, Toe Bondage, Water Boarding
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Marina asked for it. PD wants to give it to her. She needs the harshest physical and verbal treatments to get off. She wears a short dress and a pair of high heels to inspire her tormentor.

PD leads Marina to her new home, a large cage furnished with only a piss bucket and a food bowl. Her hands are bound behind her back with Hiatt handcuffs. She is left to settle in, but PD does not stay away long. He intensifies the bondage by locking her neck with a device built into the cage that can be lowered to the perfect height for cock-sucking.

PD abandons Marina again, this time testing her resourcefulness. The accommodations remind her of her worthlessness — An empty food bowl, no blanket to keep warm, and the attention she hopes for is minimal. She tries to escape but to no avail before PD catches her.

Finally, the torment begins. She is hung upside down and single-tailed. The only relief is when PD wants to use her holes. Then, her hands and feet are locked in stocks. Her vulnerable body begs to be beaten. She craves the fear of the unknown, the searing pain of the cane, and the control of her oxygen supply.

She is a worthless cunt, a non-person, a thing purely for PD’s amusement — Just the way she likes it.

Tags: Abandonment, Black High Heels, Breath Play, Cage, Caning, Celebrator, Choke collar, Cock Sucking, Finger Bondage, Foot Bondage, Forced Orgasm, Fucking, Handcuffs, Inverted Suspension, Single Tail, Stocks, Tears, Toe Bondage, Vibrator, Wooden Dildo
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