The Punishment Festival

I entered one of these booths that were part of the "Museum of Fallen Stars" exhibition. A poetic name, but one whose meaning I didn't immediately grasp. It was quite dark inside; the booth was slightly larger than a restroom and lit by a dim light, creating a rather intimate atmosphere. I turned to lock the door, letting silence be the only witness to my future dark deeds. In front of me, in the center, I was immediately struck by the exhibit's object: a woman was embedded in the wall, with only part of her anatomy visible. Impressive... I had before me a beautiful pair of bare buttocks, exposing her two gaping, utterly vulnerable orifices. There were no specific instructions, and I deduced that the only limits would be those imposed by my imagination. The woman was in a seated posture, leaning forward, with part of her back and thighs protruding from the wall. Only her legs were clad in white stockings that went up to her thighs, giving her a deliciously erotic look.

On the same wall, higher up to the left, I could see a frame containing text: it was a summary of her biography. Her name was Tayler Drift, she was 32 years old... The name rang a bell. As I read on, I learned with excitement that she was a big pop star; that's why her name was familiar, and I connected the dots with the "fallen stars." These booths contained famous personalities, exhibiting them diminished, at the mercy of everyone like vulgar trophies. Continuing my reading, I understood why she was there: this woman had contributed to the financing of the war against our homeland and, during an annexation, had been captured. Here was a sample of the fate our great State reserves for its insolent enemies.

I learned more about her: a lawyer by training, passionate about horse riding since childhood, and accustomed to recharging in the mountains every year at her parents' holiday home... Not this year, I amused myself with the thought. Next to it were photos of her taken at various points in her life. I looked at a profile photo that seemed current; in it, I saw a charming blonde whose smile revealed perfect white teeth, an oval face, porcelain skin, and pretty eyes of icy blue.

I began to get excited, feeling my sex stretch in my pants, but my perverse curiosity pushed me to further explore her private life. In another photo, I saw her with her family, with her husband, her daughter who must have been no more than 10. There was even a photo of her making a lewd gesture by a pool. "Her photos must have been retrieved from her phone," I thought, because otherwise, it would mean our State had quite the hacking prowess. These questions quickly died out because I hadn't come to document myself or ask questions but to be entertained.

Voltaire's saying, "the misfortune of some makes the happiness of others," was particularly true in her situation. She had money, talent, a loving family, but above all, a bright future. What remained of her was nothing more than a vulgar and grotesque remnant of her past glory, but this realization excited me to the highest degree because, as someone who is nothing, I could defile this once precious and adored person. "It must not be easy living your new life, my dear little Tayler, but don't worry because I'm here to comfort you," I almost sang to her, but no response came, and silence continued to rule.

Small shelves were arranged around her, containing a multitude of sex toys as well as more utilitarian products like condoms or lubricants. Just above her was an electronic panel displaying the number of orgasms she'd had along with her heart rate in BPM. This device seemed so vicious that I was filled with admiration for its creator, as it was there to encourage performance, a simple and effective pseudo-gamification. The board read "0 - 75 BPM"; I saw the rate vary slightly, confirming the device's functionality. No one had touched her yet today, and I rejoiced at being her first visitor.

I wanted to check her condition, and my fingers brushed against her lips, causing a slight shiver on her part; I noticed she wasn't quite ready yet. I continued to rub her, making contact with her clitoris. It didn't take long for her to start getting wet, and I could smell the onset of her scent. Satisfied, I chose a round-headed vibrator that I turned on. "BRRRRR," immediately, the sounds of its continuous vibrations filled the room. I brought it to her intimacy, making small back-and-forth movements while maintaining good pressure with the vibrating head on her sex. I was counting internally to see how long it would take for her first orgasm.

After just a minute, her body was trembling, I felt her warm liquid dripping onto my hand, and an electronic sound rang out from the panel. "Bip!" it displayed "1 - 103 BPM"; "Bravo Tayler, you're a real little slut." Then I gave her a little pat on the butt. I kept the vibrator going while humming a little ditty:

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
...

"Bip!" "2 - 111 BPM"; the second orgasm came after one minute and twenty seconds. With my free hand, I caressed the exposed lower part of her thigh, feeling the tremors and heat emanating from it. Her body responded wonderfully to my stimulations, and at that moment, I wondered about her mental state; was she crying over her fate or surrendering to the pleasure? It could also be a mix of both, no matter, I planned to make her numbers climb even higher.

"Bip!" "5 - 126 BPM"; the room now had a strong musky smell. I'd had enough play with the vibrator and turned it off. I took from the shelf a chain of five anal beads to which I carefully applied lubricant. Each bead was connected, made of dark blue silicone, and the size of a ping pong ball. I pushed the first into her rectum which, thanks to the lube, slid in without difficulty. But once inside, Tayler immediately expelled it, greatly annoying me. "I see we're playing tough!" I said with amusement. I retrieved the bead and pushed it back in, but this time I held it with my thumb and immediately pushed in the second one. Then the third... Fourth... As I filled her up, I felt the resistance gradually increase. And finally, the last one was lodged in her; I kept my thumb to prevent her from freeing them. Among the toys, there was one, a corkscrew-shaped plug, perfect for sealing her orifice. Without applying any lotion, I forced the plug directly into her. Her body tensed, and I could feel all her tension. But without mercy, I quickly screwed it in, savoring my relentless domination.

Once the plug was in place, only the handle was visible. "Go on, Miss rebel, try pushing now!" I said in a mocking voice. But as expected, the plug stayed firmly in place. I imagined that here, she must be violated every day, and several times, that her vagina was now just an air-filled corridor. I looked proudly at my work like a master craftsman admiring his latest creation. Her now well-filled and sealed butt would give a second youth to her sex which I was about to explore. My choice fell on a purple dildo with orange stripes incorporating nubs around its head. I generously coated it with lube, and as I ran my fingers over it, I felt its soft, rubbery texture glide across my skin. I approached Tayler and began rubbing her lips with the rough part of the head. "Ready to discover what paradise is?" I asked rhetorically, then the toy slowly entered her private garden, each millimeter covered becoming an extension of my playground.

"Bip!" "8 - 143 BPM"; the atmosphere in the room now seemed quite heavy. I was sweating, and so was she, drops beading on her round buttocks which I eagerly licked, soaking up their salty flavors in my mouth. My breathing was ragged, my consciousness clouded while my arm, wielding the dildo, continued its frantic back-and-forth. With the other hand, I turned the vibrator back on to join the dance, its relentless vibrations teaming up with its intrusive partner to create an irresistible storm of pleasures. Her body was constantly trembling, like a wagon dragged by a locomotive, and I was her only captain aboard. "Bip!... Bip!... Bip!" "11 - 166 BPM"; The counter kept incrementing, encouraging me to be more and more brutal. My throat was dry, my arm hurt, but despite everything, I accelerated my movements, closing my eyes to better concentrate on my actions. The pain of cramps appeared, I clenched my teeth! "Come on, cum, you dirty whore!" I shouted in the booth, when the climactic moment arrived... "Bip!" Her entire body contracted, and a long, powerful jet expelled the toy, wrenching it from my tired grip.

"12 - 171 BPM" I fell back on my butt, exhausted, panting, and a smile spread across my lips. I had her juice all over me; on my jeans, my sweater, and my arms. Before me lay a huge puddle, a glorious trophy that filled me with pride. Motionless, I caught my breath while massaging my sore arm. I came back to my senses when a thought crossed my mind: why had no sound come from her mouth since the beginning? Spurred by this curiosity, I wanted to investigate to uncover this mysterious secret. I raised my arm and... "PAF!" I slammed it down on her buttocks with all my might. "Hii!..." She let out a very brief cry, as if someone was there to silence her immediately, then her body writhed in all directions, as if she was panicking, before returning to calm after a few seconds. I approached her and pressed my ear against the wall, then slapped her buttocks again. "Hiii!..." The same phenomenon repeated, but this time, after her panic, I could hear her breathing heavily.

I then realized that Tayler wore a gag which, upon detecting any sound, completely stifled her for a short time; that's why she remained stoic in the face of my abuses. I stepped back and stared at the red marks I'd left on her white buttocks, twisted thoughts swirling in my head: how would I make her become her own tormentor? There were no torture tools at my disposal, so I had to be creative, but while waiting for inspiration, beating her flesh would be a good start. "PAF! Huu!..." Another sharp slap on her skin, eliciting another fleeting moan. Each blow took her by surprise; unable to see them coming, it was hard for her to anticipate them. "PAAAF! Huuu!..." This one was particularly harsh; I had become a master in the art of spanking and slapping. If you want the strike to be effective, you must completely relax your arm and shoulders. Indeed, the contractions we're used to for lifting or pushing will here limit and slow the movement. You have to imagine your arm has become like a whip, flexible and quick like a snake.

I had counted five seconds, that was the time Tayler was deprived of breath. I had the idea of proposing a game where she had to show resilience against pain; I wanted to see who would win between survival instinct and nerve reflexes. I crouched near her and grabbed each of her labia, holding them between thumb and index, then applied progressive pressure with my nails... 1s, 2s, 3s, 4s... "Ahh!..." She eventually broke, and as I released the pressure of my fingers, I felt her body struggle against asphyxiation. I counted the five seconds of deprivation internally then started pinching again. 1s, 2s, 3s, 4s, 5s, 6s, 7s... "Ahh!..." Magnificent! Tayler was back in her frenzied dance, fighting for survival. I felt her body tense up violently and savored every moment of her vulnerability. This time, to succeed, I had to insist, digging my nails deep into her tender flesh. And without tiring, I repeated the same process, eager to taste her distress like a child unable to resist the temptation to pull out another chip from the bag.

My excitement was at its peak, and I wanted to satisfy my hungry beast fighting fiercely against my pants. I temporarily released Tayler from my grip, then undid my clothing and put on a condom graciously provided by the attraction. I entered her, my sex finding its way through her tight passage, feeling the beads still lodged within her. Grabbing her hips, I used them as handles to increase the force and amplitude of my thrusts, each penetration causing a brutal slap sound. I varied the rhythm: sometimes I withdrew from her slowly to then push back with all my might, and other times, I did rapid back-and-forth movements, like a metronome.

Tayler was severely lacking in reaction, and I felt like I was making love to a corpse. Thankfully, I'm a creative person, and I reached into my jeans pocket for a mundane accessory that would spice up the situation: my lighter. While continuing to have sex with her, I placed my lighter under her, between her buttock and thigh, then ignited the flame. The biting heat immediately drew a stifled scream from her, and her vagina clenched tighter around my sex, stimulating me even more. As she thrashed behind the wall, I took immense pleasure in violating her intimacy. I waited for her to recover her breath to light my lighter again. "Hii!..." The smell of burning hair reached my nostrils. Tayler was incapable of resisting this merciless torture, and her scream rose almost instantly to the dancing fire. "Yes! That's it, my whore, squeeze me tight when I fuck you hard!" I exulted in joy from riding her and imposing my domination.

I felt the climactic moment approaching, and with each thrust, I focused solely on my sensations. The walls trembled; I was violently pounding into her, making her buttocks slap against my pelvis. Blow after blow, I was nothing but a furious beast unleashed, a trickle of drool escaped my mouth without even me stopping it. Then the orgasm came... I thrust deeply into her and came with my eyes closed. My sex pulsed, and I felt my warm, sticky fluid recede on my glans, trapped in its plastic prison. I slowly withdrew from her, panting and exhausted. I savored this moment of bliss where my pleasures were fully satisfied.

I removed the soiled condom, tied a knot to seal its contents, then made an offering by slipping it into one of her white stockings, like a customer would with bills in a stripper's. I looked at my watch; it was almost 11 AM, which meant I had spent over two hours. I was shocked by the amount of time passed, and a shameful thought crossed my mind, that of a customer in an all-you-can-eat restaurant, stuffing themselves with the first dish they meet. But I smiled thinking you have to know how to enjoy the present moment. Plus, the day is still long for exploring this fair full of surprises. I put the accessories back in their place before leaving, except for the plug which I delighted in leaving in Tayler. So she wouldn't get bored, I tore some adhesive tape provided to fix the vibrator under one of her thighs, head directed toward her sex, then I turned it on. "Goodbye, Tayler!" I said before leaving and closing the door.

"It's so good!" I exhaled a long trail of smoke after taking a big drag from my post-sex cigarette. A cool late morning breeze caressed me, carrying with it a sweet, sensual perfume. A woman in a long coat was walking towards me. She held a leash that was not attached to any animal but to a person crawling on all fours behind her. The slave was naked and wore a whole leather outfit made of straps and metal buckles. Her shortened limbs forced her to move on her elbows and knees. A gag, like a horse's bit, prevented her from speaking, and a blindfold deprived her of sight, leaving her completely dependent on her mistress. At the sight of her, my sex, which had just been satisfied, hardened again. The lady approached me and asked with an upbeat smile: "So, it's not bad around here, huh?" "Yes, and you should start with that booth." I pointed to the one I had just visited.