Blinded by the Light - Sex Stories

Blinded by the Light

... into his pisshole. It was nothing for her to grab his cock through the bars of the cage and shove a pen, a mascara brush, a screwdriver, or a toy she found at a garage sale. Nothing was off limits. His balls served as target practice any time of the night or day. She delighted in coming home after a night out to wake him up to hang extreme weights on his testicles and she would kick his nuts until he passed out. It was like a nightcap for her, a hot toddy to help her sleep. Knowing that she was inflicting pain, unspeakable pain soothed her. More than that, it aroused her. His asshole was favorite body part to punish. Unlubricated, she forced things deep inside him, stretching him, making his hole a cavernous pit of depravity. Her anal punishments registered as pleasure in Bob’s brain and there were times he would release cum as she fucked his sloppy pit with enormous dildos. He would be punished for ejaculating and she would make sure he suffered, writhing in pain to pay for his pleasure. She branded him. It wasn’t some intricate design she had made in the shape of an M or her name, it was a coat hanger she bent with some pliers and heated to glowing red. Bob got an infection from the first brand. She would re-brand him every few weeks, making the scar more intense. She loved hearing him scream in agony. The first time she branded him however he got so sick, his temperature spiked and he was moving towards the light. She took him to a doctor who pumped him full of ...

... antibiotics. The doctor asked all sorts of questions, about the burns, about the scars and bruises, about the blood work that indicated extreme malnourishment and anemia, the broken ribs. Bob knew not to answer. He couldn’t really, he was too sick. The doctor wanted to admit him to the hospital to run some more tests but Elaine convinced him that he just needed to convalesce in the comfort of his own home. She just failed to mention that the comfort of his home was a cage 5 feet by 3 feet by 4 feet. There wasn’t a torture that she didn’t try on him. The list was extensive and Bob grew to tolerate levels of pain he never thought possible. She truly had pushed him to a place where he was beyond human. He could take beatings, whippings with paddles, whips, canes and eventually he would ask for more. The greatest torture was when she would ignore him. The sweetest sound he had ever heard was the sound of her footsteps on the stairs, wearing a new pair of high heels and she would stand on him, kick, trample, and stomp him nearly to death, literally. His nipples were elongated and sensitive, his tits filled with saline injections and clamps and weights constantly made sure he was aroused. Days turned to nights and without the sound of another voice, Bob was becoming feral. He wasn’t allowed to speak and never got to touch another human being. He didn’t have contact with the outside world: he didn’t have a cell phone or access to a computer. Everything in his world revolved around Mistress ...