Chapter 5

My cock was raging, feeling like it wanted to explode but never quite able to. I could feel a pulse of pain come with the throbbing against the hellish steel cage that came with each heartbeat. I wished I could be free of my erection but at the same time I wanted to - needed to - cum after being that hard for so long.

My legs were in agony, spread and straining for so long in this position, atop the stiletto heels. I was feeling the weight of the immense fake breasts wear upon me as well. My shoulders ached - but it was easy choice to have them take more of my weight than the other choice: the evil anal hook. My neck was sore, thanks to my head being pulled back via the insidious nasal hook. Even amidst all this, it was still my cock that was the focus of my physical agony.

I couldn't tell how much time passed, likely untold hours, as I drifted in and out of cohesive consciousness. As far as I could tell, the dripping flow of the "shake" never stopped. I had to swallow mouthfuls of it down, over and over.

Though a corner of my vision, I saw that Miss and Rebecca had returned. I wondered if it was a hallucination at first, but a second strained look convinced me that what I was seeing was real. Between the two of them they carried so many bags and boxes that it took at least three trips to carry into the bedroom. I waited for them to return, to come for me, anything.

All I could hear were the maddening sounds of the recorded moans and groans, and with the position of my head I had some very large blind spots. I tried to sense them, tried to feel the motion of the air around my mostly exposed body - I was feeling, after all, that a healthy breeze over my cockhead would be all I needed to achieve release. I was fooling myself, as I still ended up jerking in a shock of surprise when I felt a hand on me, saw them reaching up to stop the flow of the IV bottle, felt the unbelievable release of having the nose hook pulled down and removed. Being able, finally, to lower my head again made me fully aware of just how stiff and sore my neck was. The quiet calm of having the earphones removed was sweet relief to my addled mind.

I hated myself, at that moment, for just how happy I was to be able to see her face again, to lose my worries and doubts and discomforts in her eyes, to so quickly forget the agony I had been left in for her amusement. It was the briefest glance, as Miss continued to move around me. Behind me once more, she pulled heavily down on the rope, stretching my arms even more, pulling me up on the limit of my toes. It seemed so cruel, until I realised she was gather slack to be able to slide the hook down out of my ass.

She drew it out and removed it from the rope, and finally I was able to lower my arms. It was awkward, with them cuffed together, as they tended to naturally land over my cock; any contact only made the pain more acute. Having to open my arms to fit over the fake breasts helped, but having my arms squeeze them together was obscenely embarrassing. I looked down, over my body and predicament. The panties were stretched taut and there was a wet stain of precum marking the outline of my cockhead.

My mind swayed back and forth uneasily between agony and ecstasy. The ache and pain of the last few hours bubbled up inside me, but every time her eyes swayed over me, it all receded instantly, replaced with calm and happiness, thankfulness to be here with her, and an insane willingness to do it all over, to do even more, if it meant I could drown in her gaze.

I idly wondered what might have become of Rebecca, but only as a mild curiosity. This time I was not made to wait long, as Miss chose that moment to beckon her out of the bedroom.

It was freshly humiliating for me to be seen as I was, but when I saw the mortified wideness of Rebecca's eyes, I felt a flash of anger and jealousy. I knew she was wearing a lot less that she might have been used to, but how could she feel anything but lucky compared to what she had seen me endure? It was gone in a moment, followed by guilt, as I knew that without me in her life, Rebecca would not be going through any of this. Lust was there too, along with the balanced pain, as my cock tried to react. My emotions seemed to be spinning out of my control.

She was stunning, head to toe, clicking out all in white, starting from the floor with leather high-heeled boots. Her legs were wrapped in gleaming latex stockings and since she had not been allowed or given any panties, the latex garter belt framed her pink pussy, now shaved completely bare. On top she had been dressed in a white latex bustier that was so low cut and tight that it squeezed her already generous breasts high and together, making them appear even larger. They swelled out and her flesh looked taut, like inflated balloons.

She wore a latex hood that was smoothed all the way down over her neck. There was a small opening, high on the back, with allowed her long brown hair to escape as a single ponytail. Her face was reduced to a circular opening at the front exposed her eyes and nose, but covered her mouth. The contours of her lips under the second skin seemed to suggest that she was well gagged beneath it.

Despite her obvious emotional discomfort, she never hesitated to obey Miss's commands or instructions, and she followed the lead of her eyes as though drawn behind them by a leash. She did laps around my living room, around me. Miss had her move and pose in a variety of positions and poses, as though testing her mobility, or trying to see if there might be a way to get those breasts to finally burst free. Perhaps she was purely using Rebecca to torment me, as her final task in the living room was to step up to me, so close that her breasts pressed against the fake pair in my bra, and slide her body down, until she was rubbing her encased head against my straining cock through the panties, like a kitten eager to greet its owner.

Seeing her there, looking down at the valley of tight cleavage, feeling her stroke against me was agonizing. Her body was working on my lusts and growing needs, but my every reaction felt like a knee in my groin. It was with mixed feelings, then, that I felt Miss releasing me ankles from the spreader bar and leading me away from her. Rebecca was left kneeling in the middle of the living room as I could do nothing but follow Miss into my bedroom.

My closet, still empty, was wide open and I was led to the gaping doorway. There were now metal rings at the top and bottom of the doorframe on each side and they were the points to which my body was stretched anew, facing into the room. Her face had been so close to mine, her eyes smiling at me, and it was only after the locks had clicked shut that I realized how willingly I had held my hands and legs out to be restrained.

I was gagged once more with the lewd double-ended dildo gag. Familiarity made it no less humiliating to have the rubber cock jutting and swaying from my lips. It seemed she required one more agony, as she came at me with what looked like a wooden broomstick with a large floppy dildo fixed to one end. She cut away my panties, tossing them aside, and guided the toy up into my ass, causing me to groan audibly around the gag, and brought the pole vertical as she did so, until it was jammed tight between my spread body and the floor, making me squirm up onto my toes as much as possible once again.

I got a moment to look down and see my straining cock. It looked red and angry, attempting to swell around, almost engulf the series of gleaming steel rings. My cockhead, out beyond the last ring, was purple and swollen and glistening. I was afraid to know what touching it might feel like.

She then wrapped a wide, stiff leather collar around my neck. It was contoured, so as she tightened and buckled it onto me, I felt it hold my head still and immobile. I felt a leather leash affixed to a small steel ring at the front dangle down between my false breasts. There was little I could do but to stare straight ahead, over the bed.

With me trussed up, Miss turned to attention and gaze back to Rebecca. The very moment she left the bedroom to fetch her, I felt her absence, and my own unbelievable position, hit me like a baseball bat. It was too late, as even if I wanted to resist, I could no longer move more than a few inches in any direction. It did allow a few moments to think, however. I'd felt this enough, both the highs and the lows, for it to be clear how she affected me was far beyond than could be explained by her beauty. Added to that now, seen in such vivid detail, was that Rebecca also had to be experiencing the same thing. I knew her enough to be confidant that she harboured no sexual arousal to the opposite sex. I started to wonder what it all might mean, but clarity of though was gone once they returned.

Rebecca was led right past me and up onto the bed. She crawled up until she was on all fours, kneeling and waiting. Miss buckled thick leather cuffs, of matching white, onto her wrists and ankles. Rather than stretch her out spreadeagle, she pulled her wrists down to her ankles, locking the cuffs at each side together with heavy padlocks. Her face was pressed down into the pretty sheets and her ass was lifted high, offered up to Miss's desires.

I felt a sympathetic déjà vu as I saw Miss buckling the harness anto her hips, placing the overstuffed bag of toys at the ready, and drawing out the first dildo to slop with lube and fit into place. The muffled groan that escaped from behind Rebecca's hood confirmed for me that a gag was hidden there. Miss drove up into her pussy in a single long thrust, only to draw herself nearly out, before ramming home again. If Rebecca was given the mercy of Miss's gaze, it was not to be via the mirror, but from stolen glances backwards.

Seeing this act repeated from the equally helpless perspective of a voyeur made me squirm not only with what I saw, but also with anticipation of what I knew was to come. I learned quickly to stop squirming, as it only antagonized the toy in my own ass. I soon realized that Rebecca would have it worse than I had, as Miss made it immensely clear that she would not stop pounding into Rebecca's sex until she was forced to orgasm. Added to that, after the inevitable pause to photograph the protruding toy, Miss did not move immediately to the next, larger one, but fucked her ass with each one as well.

And so, for hours, there I was stretched out to watch. Each time I heard Rebecca's ragged moans at her use, and then even more tormented ones as she was brought to the crest of an unwanted orgasm. The brief glances of her body while empty of toys, showed me her lips and clit swollen, no doubt sensitized to the point of agony. The rhythm was unbreakable: Fuck, photo, fuck, photo, larger, toy, and repeat.

From my position, I was at least spared the pain and ache of it, the shame of feeling myself taken over and over. Soon enough I felt my own kind of shame; I became aware of my own renewed ache from the gates of hell and realized that I was aroused by what was happening. The smell in the room was now thick with sex and sweat, and the Miss's gleeful moans were harmonizing with Rebecca's aching groans and orgasming gurgles.

I recognized the large red rubber phallus, with all its raised bumps. They appeared to work on Rebecca just as they had on me, creating a kind of fresh new hell of sensation. Just as with the others, she took it twice. I wondered if the orgasms were a release for her at all, or just a different torment.

Miss seemed to pause afterwards, as the dildo hung out of Rebecca's ass after the latest photo. She was looking over the remaining toys, fingering them lighting, but not yet choosing any particular one of them. After a still moment, she turned back to me, giving me direct attention for the first time since she had finalized my restraint. The wave of pleasure, completeness and completeness that I had come to recognize from her eyes washed over me as she looked me up and down, but there was also a kind of purposeful wickedness in her smile that sent a shiver through me.

She approached, letting her fingernails slide down between my false breasts, over my stomach, and to the base of my tortured shaft.

"Yes, you know, I think it would be a shame to waste this," she whispered.

She was efficient and quick as she freed my ankles and wrists from the doorframe. She let me stand free on the heels, but my ankles were joined together with a chain of maybe a foot in length. The dildo, still stuffed deep inside me, pulled the wooden handle dragging behind me as I was led to the foot of the bed.

Miss was right behind me, pressing me forward, until my shins were against the bed, and I was inches from Rebecca's body, glistening with sweat and the oozing mixture of lubricant and her own juices. Her ass was nearly as red as the dildo that still filled it.

Miss was so close, pushing against me, and her voice was a rough scratch in my ears. "Fuck her. I know you wanted to. I know you still want to. I know you were watching me fuck her and wanting it too. Fuck her hard. Now."

I did want it. I wanted to feel her wet around me. I wanted release, anything, for my cock. I wanted to do what Miss wanted. My heart was hammering away inside me.

With my shaft jutting straight out from my body, I didn't really need my hands to line myself up with her, and I buried myself between her swollen folds, sliding up inside her. It was at once bliss and agony.

I wanted to drive hard, thrust deep, but the sweet velvety heat of her only made my cock react hungrily, trying all the more to swell past the limits of its cage. Each motion inside her was a fresh slap of pain, and as I felt my knees buckling I slowed to a near stop.

Miss would have none of it, taking hold of the dildo's long handle, and driving me forwards. Her thrusts rammed me forward, full and deep inside Rebecca, so much so that my body forced the dildo fully back up inside her ass as well. As she drew the handle back, I followed, looking down at my reddened cock, slick and angry, drawing out of her like an obscenely ribbed sex toy.

Miss's voice started to chant, to match the pistoning thrusts. "Take her, take her, fuck her, for me..." Over and over. Never stopping, forcing me through my own pain. Every move I made was a balance between two agonies, my cock and my ass, with the dildo gag flopping lewdly from my gagged mouth as a comic side-note.