Selma · Part 2 (2/2)
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I could see the discomfort again, enter his cheeks. I slapped his ass again, and, like the idiot that he is, he yelled again.
The machine automatically popped up to twenty strokes per minute, thus, making the power output from the generator double. The fact that he was now screaming and cussing made me believe he had yet to figure out that it was not me controlling the machine, but his own vocal cords.
“Just like you told me, you spineless piece of dog shit, scream as loud as you want… nobody will hear you.” I slapped him hard on the ass again, then, pushed the button on my remote. Now, his scream became a long drawn out yowl, the machine not beginning the one-minute countdown until the last of his sounds has ended. It had taken every bit of will power I had to stop my crying when the machine pounded my pussy at top speed.
“How’s that screaming working for you?” I asked after I released the button on my remote. “I hope its relieving some of the pain… oh… by the way… the longer you scream, the longer you're fucked and shocked hard.
Adam tried, and eventually, succeeded at stilling himself and quieting his voice. After the set minute elapsed from him being quiet, the machine returned to its slower pace, thus, the electricity reduced to its lower voltage.
“I think I will turn on this little thingy and set it to shock you… oh… I don’t know… three times per second. Doesn’t that sound good to you?” I turned the shock-box to the setting which allowed for a jolt of electricity to be set from one to five per second at the hertz and milliamps I set. I set 300 milliamps at a hertz of 130 to be sent 3 times per second. I slowly turned up each channel until I noticed his muscles flinch at each pulse, his prick bouncing three times per second.
“Your cock his waving at me… it must be happy.” I teased. Then, I set the fuck-machine up to twenty-five strokes per minute and a multiplier of three.
“Oh yes, your little anus is dragging right along with the dildo as it pushes in and out… ain’t that sooo cute!?!” I mocked, just as he had mocked me while he raped and humiliated me.
Adam’s discomfort was obvious, but, he was trying with every fiber in his body not to make a vocal sound, holding tight against his vocal cords, knowing that the microphone was not dependent upon what came out of the mouth, but, what sound was made within.
“Oh, come on Adam… who do you think your fooling? You know you like that cock ramming into your ass.” I said, repeating sentences he had said to me as he raped me those six short months ago.
“I’ve had enough fun watching you get fucked. I’m going out for a few hours, then, to get some rest. Have fun… see you in the morning.” Saying that was all I needed to get him to make his ass take seventy-five strokes per minute from his complaint about me leaving him like this all night.
He was still screaming and crying as I took his keys, locked up his house, and walked two blocks to my waiting car.
“I wonder how long he will keep the multiplier going this time?” I pondered to myself as I drove home to get some well-deserved rest. Adam had no idea the clubs and bars were closed and that I was bullshitting about having some fun. Well, somewhat. Knowing that bastard was in the most difficult, painful, and humiliating spot he has ever been in, and getting exactly what he deserved, had me extremely horny and needing to visit one of my little vibrating friends waiting at home.
Part 4: “Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold”
“Wow… getting even must really take it out of someone.” I said to my empty bedroom after noticing the clock said it was five-minutes-after-noon when I finally awoke. “I wonder how Adam Asshole made out through the night.” I continued as I stretched my arms wide and hard above my head.
I wanted to take a long hot bath but settled on a quick shower, thinking I better go make sure some cock-sucker was still breathing. I, really didn’t give two shakes of his limp dick whether he was alive or not, other than the fact that he was bound in my restraints and had my fuck-machine and electro-box pounding and shocking away at him. I figured that could be some quite compelling evidence as to who had murdered him or, at least, left him in a position to become afflicted with a major case of dead.
After my shower, I dressed and headed out the door. I walked down to the bus-stop, not wanting my car to be seen in his neighborhood too often… a watchful eye might remember too much if I wasn’t careful.
I got onto to the bus that the schedule said would drop me closest to his house, and casually walked the four blocks to get to his neighborhood. As I approached his street, I made it appear as I was just out for a leisurely stroll watching closely to see if there were any prying eyes. I didn’t notice any, went around to the back yard and hoped the key to the backdoor was the same as the front. The key turned easily and allowed me access.
I made my way into his bedroom.
I could tell he was awake, but, somehow had been able to quiet himself enough to allow the machine to be working on him at the slow pace. I shut the machine and the box off for a little bit.
Knowing he was now safe to speak, he started trying to communicate through the gag and was unable to articulate any comprehensible words of which I could make out, and, I tried.
I grabbed the little remote to give punishment shocks and said to my revenge-quarry, “Do I need to give you a little pain to make you speak clearly? Isn’t that what you said right after you asked me a question then beat me with my whip? Yes, Yes, I do seem to remember something like that.” I pressed and held the punishment button for somewhere between thirty to forty-five seconds. Who’s counting?
His body tensed and shook as I held down the button. I walked around the side of the bed as he convulsed uncontrollably as the electricity battered his cock, balls, and nipples.
“You fucking pervert!” I yelled at him after seeing what was on his stomach.
“It looks to me like you must’ve cum about four, maybe five times. Hell, you’re a real bondage and pain slut, aren’t you?” I said looking at the large circle of semen spent on his stomach, just below where his cock hung limply.
“It sure looks like you’re enjoying this much more than I enjoyed you raping and torturing me six months ago.” I said to him disgustingly.
“I am going to remove your blind fold and gag for a few minutes. We can talk. Actually, what I really want, is to hear you beg! Maybe, just maybe, if you beg good enough and I feel it is sincere enough, I may stop my torments and your suffering torture… though, I doubt it. It’s at least an opportunity you never gave me.” I told him, grabbing the keys for the blindfold and harness from my back pocket.
As I removed the blindfold from his eyes, I said, “When I take the gag out of your mouth, I want you to remember this…” I held up the fob sized remote in my hand for him to see. “…I swear, if you scream or make so much as one sound I didn’t ask a direct question to, I will push this button, re-gag you, and turn this machine to max and let it fuck you to death! Do you fucking understand me?” Adam nodded his head emphatically to show he was quite willing to abide by any terms I set forth for him to have his voice back. I unbuckled the gag and removed it from his mouth with a plop.
He stretched his jaw and flexed it around, the whole time his blue eyes focused on me with horror, shame, and pleading.
“Don’t you even think those eyes will get me to feel pity for you. What you did to me was deplorable and cruel and my world has been a pile of dog-shit because of it. I lost my job because of what was brought out in court, now I’m struggling at minimum wage at the local burger joint, while you, Mr. Big Club Manager goes about his life like nothing ever fucking happened; happy to have kidnapped, raped, and sodomized me and then avoid punishment because you could afford some high-priced legal team and slander my name across the town. Don’t you EVEN think I feel a gram of pity for you right now!”
I could tell he wanted to speak, but I held the remote up, as if I were going to push the button as soon as he parted his lips. And, in all honesty, I would have.
“That’s right. I never heard me ask one question yet. That, my little cum-covered cock-sucker is what is called a monologue, which, requires no answers nor rebuttals. I will let your sorry-ass know when you can speak.” I admonished and warned the man streaked with sweat; sheets casting an aura of white around his body where his sweat had dried and left salt behind.
“I’m sure you have some bodily functions, other than cumming all over yourself, that you could use doing?!” I said to him in a half-question, half-statement tone. He simply nodded, not taking his eyes off of me for a microsecond; either burning my image even deeper into his mind or too scared to look away and me not approving. Whichever it was, I had no way to know and couldn’t give a flying-fuck.
“I will allow you to piss and shit when we are done with our little tête-à-tête. I need to gag you again before I pull that little thingy I have shoved in your cock as I believe that is the most painful part of this.” I said, dangling the remote as I finished.
“Now, you have five-minutes of moderately free speech; much, much more than your lawyer allowed me while he was questioning me on the stand. Do not get much above a whisper, or, you know, I really wouldn’t waste any on stupid questions for which you already know my answer to.” I informed the not-so-high-and-mighty trembling piece of shit lying uncomfortably contorted upon his bed with a dildo still shoved half-way up his ass and his spunk drying on his stomach.
“Please, Please, I beg of you, stop this insanity. I went through so much last night. I can’t handle the pain any further. I am truly sorry. I will confess that I did it. Just please, don’t put me through any more of it, I don’t know if my sanity can take it.” Adam said, tears filling his eyes, panic flushing his cheeks, and, something; either sorrow or self-pity, which I believe is the latter; spilling past his parched and dry lips.
“Give me a fucking break! Would’ya? Would that line of crap have worked for me, had you, of which you didn’t, afforded me the opportunity to ask? No. Your sorry ass would have reveled in the knowledge that you were causing me so much distress! Wouldn’t you?” I beamed into his eyes, my hatred and disgust for this sorry excuse of a man sobbing before me.
“You better answer me and you better answer me truthfully, or, so help me God, I will push this button and not release it until my thumb can no longer hold it in!” I spit the words out as if they were grounds of coffee from the bottom of the pot filling my mouth.
“No.” Almost a mouse squeak, but, not quite. I held the fob up, thumb at the ready.
“No, I would not have listened, nor, would I have cared if I did.” Adam said, posing ashamed of his admittance.
“Now, on to your next statement. You’ve been through so much? My dear asshole! It’s only been one night, twelve short hours, since I started on you… far, far less than the seventy-two hours you fucked, beat, and sodomized me. How can you possibly think you have endured enough to equal what I suffered at your hand, and, your prick. Which, by the way, doesn’t appear too spry today, unlike it did when you went at me.” This monologue being voiced in a soft, yet condescending, tone.
“But I didn’t electrocute you. The electricity is the most painful. I can’t take it anymore.” Fuck-face said in an all-out sob.
“Here we go again. You can look me in the eyes and tell me that had you have known about the electrical boxes that I have, that you wouldn’t have used them on me!? Is that what you really expect me to believe?! And, not for the entire seventy-two hours. Is that what you want me to believe?” I asked, getting more and more angry with every word. Wanting so bad to plug his mouth and cover his eyes and turn the whole fucking system up to max.
“No, I can’t” He said, finally breaking eye contact with me.
“That’s fucking right you can’t! I doubt that I have put you through half as much so far as you would have done to me.” Fire burning deep in my gut as I spoke.
“You can’t convict someone on what they might’ve done.” He said.
I grabbed one of his pillows from the floor, covered his face and pushed the button. I held it for what could have been three minutes or it could have been ten minutes… again, who’s fucking counting. I’m sure not. If you would ask Adam, I’m sure he would say ten; to me, if it was three minutes, they were very short minutes. When I finally did release the button and removed the pillow, Adam was gasping heavily and deeply; both, from the shock and the lack of oxygen from the pillow restricting his breathing. At least I assume it was from both.
“That! Dip-shit, was the dumbest fucking thing you could have said!” I spat venomously.
“Almost as dumb as the next thing you first said… I’ll confess??? You’ve been tried and acquitted… you can’t be retried even if you do confess. On top of that, you confessed under duress, your confession wouldn’t mean shit! Are you really that ignorant, or, even more important, do you really think that I am that ignorant? You make me sick!” I ranted.
“You’re right, you’re right, that was dumb for me to say. Especially since we both know that, yes, I would have. I’m sorry I can’t change the past. Please, understand, I would if I could.” He pleaded.
“Mr. Fairchild! You are bordering so close on me just turning all this stuff…” I waved my arm indicating my toys, “…loose on you full bore. Are you trying to tell me, that, if, you were not in the predicament you are in, that you would still be sorry for what you did to me? That, if you were out with your buddies right now, getting shit-faced, that you would feel contrition for what you put me through? Is that really what you want me to believe?” I asked him, dumbfounded by his idiocy for even advancing the thought.
“No… OK… No, I wouldn’t feel one bit of pity, and, in fact, I have not thought about you since the trial. Until last night, that is.” He admitted.
“Ok… enough talk. I will get you some water, re-gag and re-blindfold you, let you piss and shit. I will find a bucket for you to perform your bodily functions in, while bound of course. My verdict is another fifty-six hours here, being fucked; as you fucked me; and electrically tortured, as you have admittedly would have done to me. Don’t make me push the button while I am getting your water and your piss-pot. I’m feeling it harder, each time, to release it.
I went into the kitchen, and, after looking around for a bit; using a dish towel to open drawers so I would not leave my fingerprints around, I found a funnel and drew a glass of warm water. I took the water and funnel back to the bedroom and placed the funnel in his mouth and poured the water into it… obviously a little too quickly for him to comfortably swallow fast enough, as he coughed several times as I poured. When the glass was empty, I put the gag back into his mouth, buckled it tightly and replaced the blindfold. I locked them both in place.
I returned the glass and funnel to the kitchen. I would wash and put them away before I reached the end-game of my plan.
I found a two-and-a-half-gallon pail and took it into the bedroom. I really wished I could allow him to use the bathroom as I did not look forward to having to deal with his expulsions, but, it would give the bastard too much of a chance to over-power me and/or escape. I would have to just deal with what I had to deal with.
I pulled the tape, mostly loosened already from his spunk, and unstuck the adhesive still stuck to the ring of his glans, roughly and quickly. I removed the smooth, shiny, bisected, metal rod from his cock; the cum which could not make it past the rod oozing out when the tip came out. I placed the bucket under his cock and he pissed without hesitation, obviously having quite a full bladder from the previous night’s drinking.
I really dreaded the next part, but, it had to be done. I untied the machine and slid it back, allowing the phallus to pull free of his asshole. Thankfully, it wasn’t as dirty as I thought it would be. I was able to clean it pretty thoroughly and easily with a paper-towel. I covered his ass with the bucket, using the machine to hold it in place, and told him I would be back in fifteen-minutes and to do what he needed to do, if he needed to do it.
I have now shown much more compassion than he had shown me six-months prior, as far as I was concerned.
I dumped the pail of his expulsions into the toilet and rinsed it out. I went back and reinserted the sound in his urethra, taping it as I had before. Then, I reset the machine, insuring the dildo would penetrate him a little deeper now that his bowels were empty, and turned it on.
It didn’t take the idiot long to make a noise when the machine started pumping in and out of his ass and the electricity surged through his ass. I set the other box feeding his cock, balls, and nipples enough electricity to once again make his cock bounce and his pecks flex from the electrical current.
Over the next forty-eight hours, I flogged and whipped the shit out of myself. I made sure to leave large welts on my ass and the rear of my thighs. I found the pain of whipping myself to be much worse than when someone else inflicted it upon me, but, I had to endure it. I also kept myself bound and struggled roughly against the restraints.
In addition, I shared the machine, using it on myself with a large rubber dildo and made sure I was as dry as I could by wiping my pussy of its juices and, like Adam had done to me, sent the dildo deep inside my ass without lubrication. I ran the machine as high as I could stand it, for as long as I could handle the dry pounding of my ass, my pussy eventually self-lubricating the pounding dildo. The large rubber phallus had made my rectum bleed, which was good.
I continued to lay fresh marks over the old ones on my rear and thighs, trying to closely strike myself as someone else would strike me should I be tied on the bed as I had tied Adam.
I’m sure Adam was quite relieved when I removed the machine from him to use on myself, and, was probably wondering why it was running and not pounding his ass. He would find out soon enough.
I climbed in and out of my duffle several times, then placed items around it, trying to make it look as if they had been dumped and strewn from the duffle bag. I needed to make sure my epithelia’s were able to be found inside the duffle bag.
About six hours before I planned to put my end-game into play, I removed the nipple clamps to allow his nipples a chance to get back to normal and not appear as if they had been being pinched. I placed them very tight on to my own sensitive buds. I put several weights on the chain between my nipple clamps and allowed my nipples to be abused very harshly.
When I fucked myself with the machine, I had covered the dildo with condom’s and used a turkey baster to collect some of the semen from his stomach; which seemed to get milked from him by the electricity in his cock regularly; and placed it in several of the condoms and threw them into the trash in his bathroom. I even shoved the baster deep into my ass and deposited some of his ejaculate inside me.
Once I felt I had everything set up to begin the end-game of my well thought out plan, I used an ether covered rag to force Adam into unconsciousness, cleaned up his ass and stomach and untied him. I put a pair of boxers on him and drug his unconscious body into his living room. It’s amazing how much strength a small woman, such as myself, can muster with the correct motivation. I put him into his recliner.
I found his cell phone and took it with me. I set it up by putting it in phone mode and put 911 in but did not push send yet.
I went back to the bedroom, and, began to set myself up for my own binding. I changed the two ropes tied to the foot of the bed for a single chain attached to the bed in the center of the footboard.
I tied my feet way over my head and secured them to the headboard, tied the leather belt around my waist tightly to the bed and moved the machine into place and into my ass. I hooked the electro-box up to my nipple clamps. I placed the collar around my neck, my ball-gag in my mouth, harness over my head, and blindfold over my eyes. I had set the machine to fifty strokes per minute with a multiplier of five. I had set the machine to ten-minutes of punishing high speed strokes for any noise I would make.
I turned the electro-box much higher than I could normally stand, pretty sure, and really hoping, I would not have to put up with it for much more than an hour or so. But, even with that in mind, the pain was going to be terrible; even if it would’ve been for only for five minutes.
After turning the power-box on, I had to hurry so I would not back out and turn it down.
I slipped my hands under my ass, turned the fuck-machine on and quickly locked my wrist-cuffs to the chain locked to the foot of the bed. I had no keys to un-cuff myself. I set them on the dresser near the door. The machine tore into my anus, and, before long, I felt a couple of drops of what I figured must’ve been blood drop on my forearm.
I put up with the hard pounding and intense shocks to my nipples for as long as I could, which, I suspected was about thirty minutes, before I hit send on Adam’s cell phone. I then covered the phone with my hands as if I was trying to hide it.
It may have been another half-hour or so when I heard a hard pounding on the front door, followed by more, this time even harder. Shortly thereafter, I heard the door broken in, men yell ‘Police’, followed by, ‘Drop the weapon!’, then, a single gunshot.
The police released me from my restraints and torments of the electricity and the hard pounding machine, which had gone into high from the crack of the gunshot.
They rushed me to the hospital.
I had no idea about the 9mm automatic Adam had between the seat cushion and the arm of the recliner until I read the police report, noting he had brandished it, causing of the police to shoot Adam.
It was finally over. “Revenge is a dish best served cold!” At least as cold as a corpse laying in the city morgue.
Part 5: Epilogue
Richmont General Hospital Psychiatry Ward 4B
Patient: Erikson, Selma Rebecca
Patient ID: 226-93287-004
Physician: Peters, Sierra MD, Psychiatry
Inpatient Medical Report
Synopsys:
The transcription, here attached, is the words of Selma Erikson, in-patient assigned to Ward 4B, for evaluation of the patient’s mental functional capacity with regard to two major episodes of rape and torture at the hands of her attacker. These episodes were forced upon her twice, each episode lasting a duration of approximately 72 hours in duration. The first episode taking place six-months prior to the most recent. The legal system had found the attacker innocent of the charges brought against him for the attack on Selma, and, evidence now being found of threats and harassment of Selma via email.
It is this physicians’ belief that the attached accounting of the patient’s recollection of the events which transpired over this last weekend were fabricated as a coping mechanism to focus the traumatic episode away from herself, thus, focusing the horridness of the events she undergone upon her attacker. Disassociation of one’s self from the traumatic episode and associating it upon another, being a common coping mechanism commonly associated with PTSD.
Diagnosis:
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Major Depressive Episodes
Border-line Personality Disorder
Acute Psychosis
Prognosis:
It is the assessment of this physician/psychiatrist that Selma will be afforded a normal lifestyle through the treatment of regular counselling and proper medications. Assessment and progress of the patient will be maintained and charted during her inpatient stay.
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Selma · Part 2 (2/2)
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