by Gamma

Illustration by Robert Bishop

Originally published in an HOM Bondage Magazine, issue unknown

Scanned and Transcribed by guardian46w

Story codes: M/f, bond, bdsm, cons?, naked, boots, predict, armbinder, gag, blindfold, clamps, elect, punish, whip, X

What Michelle had done to deserve her punishment is not important.  Suffice it to say she deserved her bondage and discipline, and I'd seen to it that she would get plenty of both.

She was naked except for her knee-high leather boots.  A thick metal bar, strapped to her ankles, spread her legs wide.  Her arms were encased in a single leather glove and stretched up towards the ceiling.  A leather blindfold kept her in darkness, and ear plugs assured that she would suffer in silence.  That was the basis of her bondage.  But there was much, much more.

She stood, in her high-heeled boots, on two blocks of ice.  They were about six inches high and already beginning to melt.  Between the ice, a metal pole jutted upwards from the floor.  It's top was a thick rubber dildo which just nestled into her cunt, spreading its shaven lips.  As the ice melted, she would slowly be lowered and impaled upon the dildo.  There was, of course, still more.

I have not mentioned a gag.  Michelle was gagged.  The gag was another thick dildo strapped tightly and deeply into her mouth.  A broad leather strap covered her mouth and cheeks insuring that the gag, drool, and anything else that might enter her mouth stayed there.  A tube connected it to a jar of slimy fluid which hung from the ceiling above her.  Drop by drop the viscous stuff dripped into her open mouth.  The taste of it and her knowledge of what it was, was punishment in itself.  A wide, stiff leather collar around her neck kept her head up and tilted back in position to receive the fluid.  Inside the jar was a float.  From it ran a string which ran through a hole in the top of the bottle, up over a small pulley and down to a small metal weight.  As she swallowed the slime in the bottle, the float slowly lowered, raising the weight at the other side of the pulley.  Eventually, the weight would be pulled into contact with a small metal plate.  And when that happened, a circuit would be completed.  That would send an electric current down sets of thin wires to contacts clamped to her tits and pussy.  It was a current whose bite was sharper and more agonizing than any whiplash.

And still there was more.

Her arms, raised up above her head, were also attached to a cord which ran over another pulley.  Its other end attached to a small lever which controlled the amount of current surging into her cunt and nipples.  As the ice slowly melted and she slowly sank downward, her arms would gradually pull on the lever and increase the voltage.  It started at two volts and reached a maximum of eighteen.  And even if she managed to keep her arms stretched upwards to their limit when the ice melted, the shocks that would inevitably surge into her tits would make her lower arms in reaction to the pain.  Either way, that lever was going to be nudged towards a higher voltage.

She kept her pose, unable to move.  A glistening sheen of sweat coated her body.  Her pose was responsible for some of it, I'm sure, as it was a strenuous kind of isometric exercise to stand as she was.  And the heat was also responsible.  I'd turned it up to make sure those blocks of ice melted.  Already, a puddle spread around the base of each of them, and since I'd been watching Michelle she had sunk a half-inch onto the shocker dildo.

She grunted as she swallowed the slimy liquid which slowly, inexorably dripped into her mouth.  The collar kept her head back to receive it and her black hair tumbled down her sweaty back.  I could give that back, and the round ass below it a good whipping, I knew.  That would make her squirm on the dildo and maybe even make her climax a few times.  Bound as she was, it would be a thrilling erotic torment to be whipped.  Blindfolded, she would never know when the next lash would come or from where.  And even her reactions to a whipping would have to be measured; if I whipped her full tits and she reacted by lowering her arms to protect them, she would pull the voltage lever.  She would only be buying more punishment later as the shocks kicked in at a higher voltage.  I tried to imagine how she must feel, bound and stimulated as she was.  She was oblivious to me, I knew.  Her senses cut off, her movements restricted, she was lost in a trance of sensation, each heightened by her bondage.  Michelle was a horny bitch; she knew how to ride her bondage and discipline for all it was worth.  And to her, the ecstasies she experienced during her punishment sessions were worth whatever pain came with them.  I envied her.

I was glad I had fucked her before putting her into her bondage, because the sight of her was making me horny again.  If I hadn't relieved my lust I might be tempted to take her down and fuck her before she received the full measure of her punishment.  And even our earlier lovemaking had been calculated to be a part of her punishment.  I had my climax but she hadn't.  She'd been close, to be sure, but I timed my orgasm so she would be denied hers.  That left her hot, horny and desperate for release.  Maybe she would find that release from the dildo making its way into her.  We both knew that to be put into bondage as she was, throbbing on the brink of orgasm, would be to start her punishment a few notches higher on her ladder of sensual awareness.  And I wanted just that.  I wanted her senses alive, each and every nerve sensitive to pleasure and pain.

Later I would fuck her again.  Later I would replace the dildo in her mouth with my cock.  And after that I would remove the dildo in her loins and make her take the real thing hard and deep.  Later.  After her punishment, when she'd be so hot she'd do anything for another good fucking.  For now, I was content to watch the ice melt and the slow penetration of her by the tireless rubber lover that raped her from below.  For now I was happy to watch her swallow the slime, watch the float slowly descend and the weight slowly rise towards its appointment with the electrical contact.

The sight of her bound helplessness was extraordinarily erotic.  The knowledge of what would soon befall her only fueled the fire.  And when the shocker kicked in, her moans, writhing, and helpless bucking would be almost unbearable to behold.  Michelle stood spread, naked, bound.  Gorgeous.  In her dark, silent world she was alone with her strict bondage, the growing penetration of her pussy, and with visions of the torment that would soon wrack her body.

The radiators hissed, Michelle moaned and panted.  Her nipples swelled within the clamps.  Sweat ran down her upraised arms to slowly drip from her breasts.  The juices of her arousal beaded on the hairs of her cunt.  A trickle of it slowly oozed down the rubber dildo.  My own cock throbbed hard and urgent in its need as I gazed upon this beautiful vixen bound so helplessly before me.  The temptation to whip her ass grew.  I imagined how it would feel to her, in her darkness, to suddenly feel its kiss upon her hot flesh.  How it would feel to have it curl around her sassy rump or up between her legs.

I looked at the whips on the table...  the cat, the crop, the broad strap, the birch.  Which suited my lovely captive, Michelle tonight?  As I tried to decide a sudden spasm wracked her body.  Who knows what fantasy had set her off?  She ground her hips around the dildo.  Now a full inch into her, trying to coax more pleasure from it.

I picked up the cat.  A hot cat for a hot pussy.

I took a step forward, out of the darkness, into the pool of light that surrounded my sweaty, hot captive.  She shook her head in pleasure and despair that she could not nudge that pleasure any higher.  It was a small climax, teasing her with its pleasure but denying her full release.  It had been an evening of denial for poor Michelle.  So close, again.  So close.

I walked around behind her, delighting in the view of the twin globes of her ass, of her long legs, shiny in their black leather, spread wide.  The dildo disappearing into the darkness of her pussy, it's engorged spread lips I could see even from the rear.

I untangle the strands of the whip.  Limbered up my arm.  Where should I kiss her with the whip?  Up high, across her back, curling the ends into her tits?  Low, across her ass, snapping the ends around front onto her crotch?  Or from below, upwards, the full force of the stroke hitting her square on her sex, spread and opened by the dildo?

I drew my arm back even as I decided, then snapped it forward, delivering a sharp, cruel stroke to the spot I knew would cause Michelle the most pain… and pleasure.

THE END