Competition Breeds Excellence in Captivity

I had heard anecdotes from submissive that small binder clamps hurt even more than clover clamps, but forceps were the worst. I suspected Zarina would have agreed, based on the intensity of her past screams and non-verbal reactions. But this struck me as about as good a time as any to get her confirmation. Zarina was on top, impaling her ever-raw asshole on my cock and her arms pulled up to the ceiling. Multiple sizes of all three kinds of clamps bit into each of her erogenous zones, and not just the obvious ones. I fastened many more on her armpits, neck, clavicle, forehead, tongue, ears, palms, soles, sides of her torso, behind her knees, and nailless fingertips. All the parts of the female body that contained the most nerve endings.

Zarina was squeezing her eyes shut, and grimacing with every bounce up and down of her ass. The sight of all the different clamps littering her body was actually a turn off for me. She looked like a body modification enthusiast—simply not my thing. But I loved how her motions caused herself pain, across the countless spots where the clamps refused to stop gnawing. The going was slow for Zarina too, as I had not fucked her throat for long and skipped her pussy entirely earlier, so there wasn’t much in the way of lubricants coating my cock. But I was in no hurry, having already cleared my head that day with several orgasms lost somewhere inside her. I had time to plan and refine my methods of torment.

So I asked Zarina, “Which of these kinds of clamps hurts the most?”

Zarina’s eyes shot open with a look of surprise upon hearing my voice, and she stopped riding me for a moment. I tore one of the forceps away from her armpits and she hollered, but resumed fucking me with her ass. 

I reinforced my rule, “That was for not answering my question.”

Zarina cried out, “Aman!!!, I DON’T KNOW! They all….”

I started reaching for another forcep masticating her other armpit.

“NO!!! WAIT! PLEASE!!! Uh…definitely the forceps. Those are the worst. They are so tight. You’re gonna tear my skin off….”

I yanked the forceps off anyway. Zarina shrieked and after a couple of gasps asked, “WHY???!!! I answered your….”

“…and that was because you stopped fucking me.”

Zarina shook her head but redoubled her painful pace.

“So how about between the clover clamps and the various binder clips?”

Zarina was quick to answer this time, “Oh, the little binder clips. The other sizes…I don’t know! Please!!! Give me moment to think! I can’t tell! They all bite so hard! Even the clover clamps hurt so much…you have no idea! How do they get tighter when you pull on them?!”

I was taking mental notes. Sometimes it was obviously which particular instrument or method of torture Zarina hated more. But when she screaming and shaking with equal intensity, I would tell her I was going to repeat one again, but she could choose whichever one hurt less. I would make sure to never go back on my word about that. In the long run, I found myself dispensing with the less effective variants of each torment and winnowed my collection down to the ones Zarina hated most from each category.

I explained this to Zarina, “You’ve seen that I try out different variations of torture on you, so I’m going to be asking for your honest opinion on which one is more painful. Now you might be tempted to lie to me or attempt some kind of reverse psychology, but whichever you say does not hurt as much is the one I will use on you again. Also, I think I’ve gotten a pretty good sense of which ones you hate the most, so if what you say doesn’t match up with my observations, then we can just keep repeating the experiment over and over.”

Zarina was speechless and looked at me with disgust, but kept grinding her ass on my cock. I was not really expecting an answer. I just wanted her to hear my rules. Zarina was starting to sweat.

“Now it’s time to test how well you have learned my rules for sex slaves. How are any kind of clamps to be taken off?”

Zarina spat out, “You always fucking tear them off or whip them off me!”

“Good. That is the correct rule for my sex slaves.”

Zarina started mewing.

“And what must you habitually do with my cum?” 

“You want me to swallow it,” Zarina sneered.

“Even if…” I prodded her with a hint.

“Even if it spills on to the floor. I have to lick it up—you sick fuck.”

I wrenched another forcep off the thin skin on the side of Zarina’s ribcage. She howled and looked like she hated me even more.

“What should a sex slave do immediately after swallowing?”

It took Zarina a few moments to stop wheezing in pain

“You make me lick off your dick and balls and suck up everything.”

“Ah, but what’s different about a good sex slave’s approach at this point?”

“Uh…” Zarina’s eyes were searching her memories for a second.

I reached for a binder clip on her ear.

“STOP!!! I know the answer! You’re feeling sensitive so I have go gentle.”

I kept my hand hovering over her ear, with her gaze fixated on it. I wanted to keep her in suspense for a little bit before giving her the answer. Then I dropped my hand.

“Yes. You have to be able to tell what I am in the mood for, at all times. You have developed the right instinct to maintaining skin-to-skin contact with my cock 24 hours a day, and simply vary the intensity. You will be tortured if you are not presently pleasuring me as much as possible, and even sometimes if you are, but at least it will be over for you sooner. Then what?”

“Um….um….Ijustkeeplickinguntilyougosoftandpushmeaway?”

“That’s implied. What are you forgetting?” I reached again for the binder clip on one ear.

“WAIT! Oh, right! My manners! You make me thank you for allowing me to swallow your cum and for raping and hurting me!”

“That’s a good slave girl.” Then I ripped the binder clip off her ear.

“AMAN ALLAHIM WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR???!!! I GOT THE ANSWER RIGHT!!!”

“Another rule: assume you are racing against the clock no matter what you are doing here, even if the timers in the room are not running. This applies to all of my sex slave’s tasks, from pleasing me to something as simple as drinking water. Fair warning though: overall quality is always better than a rushed job, so what you are really competing against is your past performance. You should always be improving and coming up with new ways to make me happy.”

I could tell Zarina was softly swearing at me in Azerbaijani. Her words had to be profane, just by the tone of her invective. I pried a binder clip from her other ear. After her screams died down, Zarina started sobbing in earnest.

“Let me explain the rules of your current time challenge. You have to make me cum before all the clamps are torn off, and you are going to beg me to pull them off, one at a time. If I feel like you are taking too long between clamps, or if I don’t feel like you are doing the best job of fucking me with your ass, then I will start removing clamps on my own. I doubt you need any motivation by now, but whatever clamps are left on you after I cum will have directed electrical current run through them, until I am ready to do something else with you.”

Zarina managed to halt her ragged bawling with some heavy panting. She squeezed her eyes shut and said, “Ok. Do it.”

“Do what…?”

“TEAR A FUCKING CLAMP OFF!!!”

I obliged and wrench one of the small binder clips away from her forehead, drawing blood. Zarina looked up and started screaming, this time in shock, as the blood trickled down her face. I knew from a little bit of amateur boxing that foreheads split open easily and make for a good target because the sight of one’s own blood rattles any fighter. I reached for another blinder clip on her forehead, but Zarina recoiled as far as the overhead restraints would allow and she stopped screaming for brief instant.

“NO! NOT THERE!!! ANY OTHER PLACE!!!”

“You don’t get to choose. And you’re stalling.”

I made my point by opening Zarina’s forehead gash a bit more with a tug on a clover clamp.

“OWWW!!!! PLEASE!!! I’m gonna need stitches!!! Just a second…. Ok, ok…pull another off…—AHHH!!!”

Zarina’s mind was poisoned by terror and she could not tell that the cuts were not actually that bad. Next I yanked the various clamps off her head, but I had saved the ones around her breasts and pussy for last. By the time I deposited my sperm in her sigmoid colon, there were still a few clamps on her armpits, sides, back of her knees, and one on her tongue. I splashed a bucket of wintry salt water on her to lower the electrical resistance of her skin as per usual. It was actually pretty complicated to wire all of the clamps with enough separate channels  so as to not cross and stop Zarina’s heart. Still, I set a relatively low current to be safe. Wiring the circuits took long enough that Zarina’s oral clean up efforts started getting my cock hard again. Or maybe what did the trick for me was her garbled whimpers entreating me not to electrocute her. 

Instead of raping Zarina just yet, I turned the power on as scheduled. Immediately I could smell the faint burning of skin coming where the carbon steel forceps were still attached. Carbon steel has a higher electrical conductivity than stainless steel, as I was still trying to source some custom copper forceps. I shut off the electricity before the burns got too deep, and let her hang limp from the ceiling and cry for long enough to think that it was over. Then I flipped the switch back on. 

The surprise made Zarina apoplectic. I shocked her for a few rounds, until my cock had fully sprung to life and needed gratification. Zarina was drooling even more than usual with her ring gag, and was exhibiting signs of altered mental status, with her voice reduced to incomprehensible gutturals. I tore off the clamp still on her tongue, barely avoiding tearing her tongue out, and replaced it with my cock. Immediately I began fucking her throat as fast as I could. If anything, Zarina’s barely responsive state helped reduce her gag reflex.

By the time I was spasming into the back of Zarina’s throat, she was starting to come around. She showed enough presence of mind to lick a little on my cock, as I clutched the back of her head and went soft on her bloody tongue. I caught my breath, pulled out, and eventually untied her wrist restraints from the ceiling rope. I gave her a second to see if she would pick up on what to do, But when she merely slumped forward, I turned the electricity back on. After I decided Zarina had enough, I shut off the current and could see her mouth quivering, trying to form the word, “Why?”

“You may have cleaned my cock up—and you deserved to be punished solely for the poor effort—but cum has been dripping out of your asshole for a while and needs to be slurped up.”

Zarina evidently did not have full control over her muscles yet, and she fell forwards anyway while trying to scoot back and bring her tongue to the floor.