Weekend Trip to the Inscrutable

»Let's put the dirty traitor behind bars.«

I'm still far from recovering from my breakdown. The sobbing has turned into silent crying, but the tears are still streaming down my face. I'm not at all in the mood of playing guessing games. What the fuck is Andy talking about? He just laughs happily at my confused expression.

»Would you like to see the mugshot again? I’m talking about that treacherous thing here.«

Andy snaps his finger harshly against my cunt. I yelp, and he laughs again.

»See, it betrayed you again.« He mockingly shakes his head. »Putting you in such a vulnerable position. It’s such a cunt!« He snaps again, I yelp again, he laughs again. »Repetitio est mater studiorum!« Andy shakes his head again. »How would a barely literate niggerwhore understand Latin? It means, repetition is the mother of learning. Even an runt like you can learn by repetition. Simple conditioning for a simplistic mind.«

Another snap, another yelp, more laughter. This sequence is repeated several times. Finally, Andy holds the close up picture of my pussy in front of my face again.

»What do you think? What’s that? I mean: Who’s that? It looks just like you. Is that you?«

I nod. Not really in agreement, but I’m tired of fighting. I know that’s another battle lost. Andy rests his elbow close to my head on the cushion. He’s very close to my face, still holding the mobile phone in front of my eyes.

»Let me explain what I mean by putting your cunt behind bars. We will work from the bottom to the top. Do you see those ugly wrinkly cunt lips? Five safety pins through each side should make that nasty thing a bit less adventurous. That’s child’s play. But beyond that is where it gets tricky. See that, the thickest rubbery part of your labia, just below the clit hood? I’ll push one safety pin all the way through it. It’s going to hurt when it pierces the skin to get into one labium, it’s going to hurt again when it pierces the skin to get out of the first labium. Same on the other side. Four times agony by just one needle.«

Andy apparently enjoys scaring me with his detailed explanation and I have to admit he succeeds. Yet again I’m flooded with emotions, stirring up even more apprehension. Eleven needles puncturing my most sensitive parts? I try to brace myself, but I’m exhausted. Andy didn’t lie when he said I shouldn’t expect anything to be easy. The harsh challenges in rapid succession have worn my resilience down quite a lot already. I need to remind myself that this is exactly what I wanted.

»Next, I must push that nasty nub back inside its protective hood. You’re a painslut, so I assume it will be excited and engorged by then. But pushing a needle right through that part of your labia and the middle of the clithood will confine it very effectively, I promise. I will pull forward the upper part of your labia and the final needle through them and the upper part of the clithood will hold everything nicely in place. You can be completely relaxed. When I’m finished, your cunt will not bother you again any time soon from its maximum-security prison.«

›Okay, fine‹, I think. ›Thirteen needles, not eleven. That doesn’t make a big difference.‹ I’m worried what Andy means by ‘any time soon’ though.

»Usually, I use medical needles. They are made specifically to pierce the skin easily and make as little damage as possible. Safety pins look quite pointy too, but compared to the medical needles they are rather dull. Don’t worry, I have disinfected them. They will just cause greater harm to your skin.«

I look at the picture of my pussy again and imagine how it will feel and look like with a baker’s dozen of safety pins pushed through the sensitive skin. But I don’t need the mobile. With my ass lifted I can see the pubic mound and the upper part of the labia. I will be able to watch the final stages of my punishment. Andy and stands up and puts on medical gloves. He sprays the area with disinfectant. The time has finally come. After all the talking and emotional distress, I’m almost relieved to move on to physical torture again.

*-*

My screams echo so strongly in the basement. The deep reverberation makes them even scarier. The pain subsides, but I can hear my own muffled desperation before the sounds finally fade.

My assumption that having needles penetrating the skin is »not that bad« doesn’t really withstand the reality check. I expected something similar to getting the ear pierced, quick and simple with one single thrust. But, of course, that would be a too considerate treatment for torture meat. No, Andy pokes the skin slowly with relish, increasing the pressure incrementally until the skin finally tears with a hardly perceptible quiet plopping sound. When the needle stretches the skin from the inside it’s even more painful when it finally pierces through.

The pain is tough to bare, but it’s such a simple, straightforward perception. Pain shuts down the conflicting emotions, the nagging thoughts, the internal contradictions. It’s liberating to get rid of those burdens. Pain purifies my mind. Well, one contradiction remains. I want the pain to stop, but Andy predicted correctly that I would get sexually aroused again, increasingly so while the needles move towards my clit. I don’t want that to stop.

I’ve lost count of how many safety pins Andy has used so far, how often he has reached for one. I wanted to keep track. I wanted to be prepared for the tricky part of putting my clit behind the bars. Maybe the needles through my clithood didn’t feel that different or maybe the constant poking and tugging blunted the pain perception.

»That’s the last one«, Andy announces.

›Almost done! Just hang on a little longer‹, I cheer myself on. Challenging, not as bad as the tit whipping, but also not much lower on the pain scale. Those safety pins create a weird feeling though. When Andy doesn’t touch my private area, they are almost unnoticeable once the pain has subsided. But when they get touched or touch each other, they send out a cascade of slight pain through my body. Wind chimes made from needles, creating soft melodies of pain. As if to say: ›we're still here‹. It will be interesting to wear them for a while.

My joy of discovery is interrupted by a hissing sound and my pussy is on fire. I wince in my bounds, scream, then whimper. Fuck! Why does disinfectant spray burn so much? Andy picks up my mobile phone again, takes a picture, and shows it to me. Needles through my labia in close proximity to each other, and my clit is really tucked away securely inside it’s hood. There are a few drops of blood. Strange pieces of jewellery. I wonder if the blonde girl could make me orgasm like this. I also wonder how Andy is going to fuck me while the safety pins are in. Now, I’m even more worried what Andy means by ‘any time soon’.

Andy takes off the medical gloves and throws them onto the tray.

»Finally«, he sighs. »Now you are ready for your punishment.«

Wait! Wait!? What?? I thought those needles were my punishment. There’s more? No. No! That’s just too much. Every time I take a deep breath of relieve because I’ve been through a tough challenge it only gets worse. I need a break. I need time to recover, to process what I’ve experienced. But then I remember it’s only been a few hours since I arrived here. Maybe six hours? Maybe eight? Ten hours tops. Is it the middle of the night already?

Andy puts a strange device onto the adjacent crate. It reminds me of the outdated radio in my grandparents’ house with clunky rotary and flip switches. Andy uncoils a black and a red piece of wire and plugs them into the gadget. The weight on one of the safety pins through my labia increases significantly, so does the weight on the top one when I can see Andy connecting the alligator clamp.

The preparation took so long, now everything moves so quickly my weakened mind can barely keep up. Okay, it’s not a radio. First needles, now electro shocks; one new experience right after the other. I touched a battery with my tongue to feel the current as a kid like probably every kid. My father taught me to stay away from the power outlets because they were very dangerous. That’s the whole extend of my experience with electricity. I don’t know what to expect. But I’m quite afraid of the abstract force of an electrical current.

»The scale ranges from one to twenty«, Andy explains, pointing at one of the rotary switches. »The other bitches say, five is good for punishment, six is the maximum they can stand. But I expect more from a painslut like you. And as a nigger you get extra by default. Eight should do it. Here we go. Let’s see what you are really made off.«

Andy turns the switch, eliciting two clicking noises, then he flicks the switch labelled as “on/off”. But nothing happens, except the device starts ticking like a mechanic clock. Out of sudden an incandescent rod is rammed deeply inside my intestines and burns myself from the inside. My immobilized body doesn’t allow more than a desperate inhuman howl of agony.

The pain subsides to a feeble shadow as quickly as it appeared, but my system is in shock. I’m snap breathing, I inhale deeply several times in a row through mouth and nose simultaneously, before my lungs push out the air violently together with some snot. I pant heavily, my breathing remains irregular even after I calm down a bit. The pain threw off one of the most reliable mechanisms in the human body.

The next power surge hits me even harder because I’m far from recovered from the first one. My whole lower body feels compressed, pushed against the hot rod buried deeply inside it. Every muscle is strained to the maximum, but my body can’t get away from the source of the pain. When the pain stops suddenly, even the reverberation of my pain-stricken, hoarse outcry is frightening. Again, my breathing oscillates from ragged to shallow.

»Very nice!« Andy’s voice barely permeates my consciousness. »Level eight, five seconds once a minute. I’ll go and have some fun with the other cunt. Your screams make a good soundtrack for romantic endeavours. Don’t worry, I’ll see if you’re okay when your bawling stops.«

»No.« This faint plea is all I can squeeze through my twitching lips.

»No? Fuck, yes! That’s exactly what you’re here for, torture meat.«

Andy just disappears from my sight. The device continues to tick. Despite my deranged state of mind, I’m gobsmacked. He leaves me behind like this? Shocked by this evil device every minute and he doesn’t even watch? My bewilderment and chagrin are cruelly interrupted by the next electric impulse to my lower body. The rod seems to heat up every time. My flesh is fried from the inside out. I truly expect to see smoke from burnt meat like in a barbecue, but the safety pin with the cable attached hangs peacefully from my labia, just twitching a bit from the twitching of the body it’s connected to. I know the next shock is approaching, the ticking seems to get louder in tune with my heavy breathing.

But this pain is something I can’t prepare for. Again, my body and spirit are crushed from the brutal assault. All muscles flex, even antagonists in opposite directions. My body tears itself apart, is taken over by electric impulses from the outside. My intestines are cooked. As my screams fade, I panic. This torture will kill me. I will die, right here on this forsaken box, in inexpressible agony. I gag from the mix of tears, sweat, and snot that I draw into my air tube as I struggle to breath. What a pathetic end to my abominable life! Perhaps this way of demise fits quite well for a cunt who went out to be tortured.

One shock follows the next, and while I feel at the end of the road, I’m still alive. My chest rattles from the force my lungs scream for air, I drip a stream of tears, sweat and snot onto my chest. I can feel my heart pumping hard and fast, ready to explode. I’m still alive but I’m getting weaker and weaker with every shock. I scream uncontrollably when they hit, but when they fade I can’t find the strength to call for Andy. That’s just too much. I’m losing the control of my bladder and its content seeps out slowly, burning the fresh wounds the needles tore.

Adding insult to injury, glugging sounds from the other corner of the basement drown out even my heavy breathing between shocks. Andy is skullfucking that blonde bitch while I’m dying here! For a second, I feel a wave of arousal flushing my body, but the next tick from the old-fashioned torture device reminds me of the high price I pay for a slight increase in pleasure Andy might get from hearing my screams.

I grasp the straw jealousy and hate offer me at this moment. I will not die! I will get through this and get my revenge on that blonde cunt! I grrrrrr and rawr during the next shocks but it doesn’t come from pure desperation now. Five seconds! I can endure anything for five seconds! My spirits slowly awake, still burning very low though. If I only knew how many more shocks I must endure! Hearing loud deep groans from Andy and the shrill moans of a female orgasm making their way to my torture chamber reinforce my determination.

But the bouts of agony induced by the electric power continue mercilessly. I fall back into a deep hole of despair, getting deeper and deeper after each time I regain some control of my emotions. I need this torture to end. Why doesn’t my body rescue me from this suffering? I pray to a higher power I don’t believe in to grant me at least a black out. Merciful unconsciousness. Just for the few seconds of the next shock.

»That’s so fucking hot!«

The blonde bitch stands in front of the box, arm in arm with Andy, both showing the afterglows of rough and satisfying sex. She has the audacity to giggle looking down on my tortured body. I will kill that whore! I release a husky snarl. I don’t even know where that came from. The device still ticks, and I’m thrown into another gruesome attack of pain. I unravel again. I’m reduced to a lump of uncoordinated biological processes.

»Wow! That’s so fucking hot!«

»Yes, that’s really hot.« Andy nods and flips the switch. »But it is enough for now.«

The ticking stops, but it seems to take ages before I really believe that the shocks have stopped, and I regain some composure. My breathing slowly gets more regular again, but tears still roll from my eyes and strains of snot drip from my nostrils. Andy and the blonde bitch just stand there, looking down on me as if preparing the autopsy of an alien strapped to a box.

»Look at that puddle of cuntcream on the floor, Master!«

»Yes, it’s absolutely amazing. It’s like her cunt is not connected to the rest of her body. At least, it’s not correctly connected in the usual sense. Despite the pain her body goes through her cunt creams as if she has the best time of her life. I think she has the best time of her life subconsciously. She’s a genuine hardcore masochist.«

If I had the strength I would agree. I think I enjoy pain because it feels pleasurable on a subconscious level. That’s a fucked-up way to feel pleasure though, being forced to take the detour of suffering. However, in a few days, I will remember this time on the box as immensely painful and as equally pleasurable. My subconscious will feed me the thrilling memories.

Andy removes the crocodile clamps. Through the mental haze I feel he is tugging at the needles on my cunt.

»You are chaining her cunt shut, Master?«

»Yes, that niggerbitch is a genuine masochist and painslut. She needs to internalize that suffering is her only gateway to anything resembling pleasure. Her cunt can’t be more than a source of pain. If she stays with me, she can’t ever have a pleasurable orgasm again. Only from pain, suffering, agony. The cunt will be shut down permanently. If she decides to continue her training, she will be mouthcunt and anal only.«

I hear the words, I know Andy is talking about me, but I don’t really understand what he’s saying. Parts of my brain are powered down to balance the overstimulation.

»Do you think she will agree to this, Master?«

»I bet you she will be begging me to pierce her cunt shut permanently. It won’t take long.«

Andy smiles widely.

»Give her a few minutes to recover, take her to the showers first and then to my bedroom. The night’s still young.«