Electric Afternoon

Literotic asexstories – Electric Afternoon by greasycat,greasycat
I allowed myself to get into this, wanted it actually. It’s a little late for recanting and second thoughts at this point. Conscious, but not terribly alert I seem to have slipped into the so-called “sub-zone” as the cheap BDSM novels and web-sites call it. I was never terribly sure what that meant, but think I’m starting to get the concept. Allowing someone you trust to take total control of your body, giving it to him until you both feel he owns it. No longer thinking so much as reacting. A complete awareness of every nerve in my body. I feel every coil of the tight ropes around my wrists and ankles. Feel the throbbing of the pulse in my wrists where I pulled the lines even tighter with struggling. The feeling of cool air on my pussy and asshole, still wet and gaping. The ache in my nipples, the crackling of hardened wax all over, and dull throbbing from the welts still swelling on my ass. Lying there, tied spread eagle to a table top, open wider than the gates of hell, I wait for the man to return.

He left the room for a minute guaranteeing to bring back a “surprise”, and cheerfully reminding me not to go anywhere. Funny guy, blinking and swallowing are about the extent of my movement right now, and I’ve had to do plenty of both the past couple of hours. Gazing at the room upside down, my head hanging off the edge of the table, the taste of his cum still slightly bitter in my mouth, my mind races with the thoughts and memories of the evening’s earlier events.

I remember the tight slutty skirt I had worn being pulled up around my waist. Being told to bend over and grab my ankles. Trying to balance that way on impossibly high heels while my exposed asshole was probed, poked and fucked to the point of anal rape. Being punished for not taking my ass reaming like a good whore. Counting off the strokes of the braided leather horse whip as is bit into the soft skin of my ass. Crying, losing count, having to start over, getting extra strokes until it was finally over. Feeling his hand, surprisingly gently rubbing my hot sore butt afterwards, telling me softly my ass would be beautiful in a couple of hours when the welts and bruises had ripened.

I recalled being bent lengthwise over a sawhorse, wrists and ankles tied to each of it’s legs, the center piece of lumber digging into my chest and belly, my tits hanging down. Tight clamps on each nipple with a chain connecting them. Before clamping my tits, he had run the chain through the handle of a two gallon plastic bucket. The bucket hung several inches from the floor, my nipples stretched tight. Standing in front of me, he aimed his huge cock, and started releasing a long stream of piss into the bucket. Now I understood why he had been swigging on a bottle of water the whole time. He pissed like a racehorse, the bucket getting heavier and heavier, pulling my nipples thin and taut. While the tormenting sensation in my nipples was making me moan and shake, I remember the surprising feeling the hot tongue on my clit. Flicking, licking with long wet strokes, sucking it like a baby at a milk filled breast. The combination of the pain and the unbelievable pleasure had me crying out and groaning. Trembling, juice squirting out of my throbbing cunt as I came, I expected it to stop.

Instead I felt a thumb massaging my swollen clit until I was trembling on the edge. There is a point where the line between pain and pleasure blur, and another orgasm would be torture. I remember begging him to stop when he applied the vibrator to my now too sensitive clit. Spasms, struggling, screaming as I could no longer make any juice, a violent excruciating orgasm that left me sweat drenched and exhausted. Limp and totally spent, it was as this point that he chose to finally fill my cunt with his cock. Too weak to move, I helplessly felt my insides rearranged and pussy stretched and molded to the exact shape of his impaling lust. Only semi wet, it was a tight abusing use of a limp body that was by now just fuck meat with holes. I recollected being released from the sawhorse. The nipple clamps released, the bucket placed in front of me. On my knees, wrists snapped into handcuffs behind me. He knows how much I hate having my hands cuffed like that. He holds the key in front of my face. “Want loose slut? Remember the childhood game of bobbing for apples?” He laughed and dropped the key into the bucket of now cold urine. “I will leave it to you, how badly you want loose.”

A few moments of useless pleading, hesitating for a minute, then taking a deep breath and plunging my face into the pail. Groping along the bottom, searching for the key with my tongue, finally grasping it in my teeth, coming up with it. Gasping, sputtering, piss in my nose and mouth, hair soaked and plastered over my dripping face. Feeling completely degraded as he took the key from my lips and let me free. I was recalling how he had then bound me spread to the table in my present position and ravished my mouth like a whore’s pussy when he came back into the room.

“Enjoy your little rest slut? Feeling all refreshed?” he asked facetiously. “I hope so, I brought your little surprise”. I couldn’t really see him with my head hanging limply. I managed to raise it weakly and see wires in his hands before wearily dropping my head back down. “Hmmm, you might want to watch this, and I need a little better access” he told me. The ropes around my ankles were loosened, and grasping my hips, he pulled me forward on the table. My head was now gratefully once again resting on the table, but my arms were pulled even tighter out to the sides and slightly above me. My entire ass now hung off the near side of the table, as he pulled first one, then the other leg up and wide. Wrapping several coils of line around each knee, he secured the ends off on the table legs where my arms were tied. I felt even more wide open and exposed than before. Bent nearly double, my slit and ass elevated and spread. Wondering what was about to happen, I watched him take a towel, bring it to my gaping holes, and wipe me down thoroughly. “I need you good and dry for the tape to stick” he laughed, seeing my puzzled look.

Tape? What the hell is he up to now? My mind started racing wondering at the possibilities. I didn’t have to wonder long. He reached for his bundle of wire, and soon I felt the cold metallic sensation of a bare wire laid directly on my clit, then taking medical tape, he firmly secured it in place.

“NO!” I started to yell. “This is enough, STOP RIGHT NOW!”

He just smile, and went back to his wires. There were a couple of more, small gauge wire all with the insulation stripped off the inch or so on the ends. He taped one to each of my pussy lips, worked one a few inches into my aching pussy, taping it all around, and slid the last one up my ass. Taping it down, he stood back to admire his handiwork. He then held up another wire for me to see. It was a regular cord, with a normal plug on the end. Ready to plug into a wall receptacle. Oh my god! I started to pull, thrash and struggle so hard rope burns dug into my wrists and knees. I began to have serious doubts about trusting this man. “No, no!” I screamed and pleaded hysterically. “Are you fucking crazy? That’s too much current.”

I felt the dull thud as he slapped my face. “I’m not stupid you dumb cunt whore” he spit at me in disgust. Then speaking to me, as one would talk to a backward child he explained his idea. “I needed a way to step-down the current so I could torture you, not fry you” he began. “Anywhere between six to twelve volts will pack quite an interesting feeling, and I won’t have to worry about where to dump your body” he laughed. “A rheostat to control the current. Can you understand that you stupid whore? Is that beyond you?” He held up a dimmer switch. The AC cord led into one end, the wires came out the other. The identical dimmer switch to the ones in dining room wall switches. Only this one had been wired for a more insidious use than mood lighting. Before I could think about it much further, he stuck the plug into an outlet, stood over me, and hit the switch. “How does this feel cunt?” he laughed.

I felt as if a thousand bees had stung me at once. My muscles tightened, I arched my back and jerked against the ropes securing me. The shock was probably only for a second, but the pain lasted until the second jolt coursed through me. The second was as if the bees were now carrying bullwhips. Each pulse of current was brief, but the intensity of the pain built up, making each successive burst worse than the previous one. Electricity is a cruel thing. A biting deeply internal pain that attacks the very nerves, causing the synapses to snap wildly. Muscles spasm with minds of their own. My heart was racing, my entire body on fire. I was aware of screaming until my throat was raw. His voice sounded strangely distant as he teased “You like that bitch? You want another one? Who owns you whore? You’ll do anything I tell you to after this won’t you? Are you ready to suck off strangers in the peep booths at dirty bookstores? Such worthless fucking whore property.” He went on and on, laughing, teasing, enjoying my reactions. Loving my pain.

My body jerking and drenched wet with sweat, I lost track of time. It could have lasted five minutes, but seemed like hours. Finally past all physical limits, I lost control of everything and felt the warm moisture as my bladder let go and I pissed myself. Hot, wet humiliating release. Seeping out from under the tape, running down my ass, dripping on the floor it kept coming. Barely conscious, tears streaking my face, unable to scream anymore, begging in a whisper for it to stop. He laid down the dimmer switch, and studied the puddle of piss on the floor. “After I untie you, you’ll have to lick this up” he announced. “By the way slut, today was only a 9-volt day, you’re going to be worked up to twelve. I know you can’t wait”.