Joan - The Human Pincushion
Chapter 3

“So, uh,” said Joe, “what do we do about the needle in her eye?”

Gerald scratched his head, thinking.  He really wasn’t sure.  As close to the brain as it was, that needle could definitely shorten her lifespan immensely if not removed, and that would certainly lower her profit making potential.

“I wonder if that Mark guy that does plastic surgery would know,” Gerald pondered aloud, his hands crossed over his chest as he looked thoughtfully at the woman curled up on the floor, quivering in a most erotic fashion.

He wasn’t surprised that Joan hadn’t tried to escape in the ten minutes or so they’d been discussing the situation.  His victims rarely did.  She, like so many before, had probably already consigned herself to death, so escape was hardly relevant.

The woman would not be so lucky.  Although he couldn’t be sure, Gerald already had plans stewing in his head involving a “forever home” for Joan.

“You guys, uh, do whatever,” Gerald said, waving dismissively at the whole room as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and walked into the hallway.  Joe and Tim were seasoned enough to be trusted with free, unsupervised access.  Well, seasoned and also mild enough.  Sam was more seasoned than either of them, but he could never be trusted not to rip some poor woman’s head off then run around the house with his dick in her throat from the wrong direction, or something equally grotesque and disturbing.

“Dr. Harold’s office,” said a pleasant sounding young voice, much to Gerald’s surprise since he was calling one of his own clients.  Most of his customers didn’t have any relationships, healthy or otherwise, with members of the sex they so loved to torture.

“Uh, um…” said Gerald stupidly, quickly having to put his mind in a different gear in order to deal with a woman on a more equal level.  “May I speak to Dr. Harold?  You can tell him it’s Jerry, and it’s somewhat important.”

“Hold please,” she replied.

Gerald listened to some crappy elevator music for a moment while slowly pacing the hall.  He didn’t care to be making outbound calls to customers; it simply wasn’t safe.

While he waited for the plastic surgeon to answer the phone, Gerald walked up to the front door of Joan’s home, locked it, and pocketed the key.

“This is Mark,” said a male voice smoothly with no perceptible accent as Gerald was making his way back toward the bedroom.  If he had to guess, Gerald would assume this was a fairly normal voice for a successful plastic surgeon.

“Mark, Jerry, are we still on for tomorrow?” Gerald said.

“Well, yes, of course,” Mark replied, sounding confused.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure you were who you were supposed to be,” Gerald responded.

The doctor laughed.

“Is that all you called for?” he asked.

“No, no, of course not,” Gerald replied. “Our charge, here, has gotten a needle in her eye.  It’s pretty bad.  What do you suppose our course of action should be, from a doctor’s point of view.”

“Well, I’m no general practitioner,” Mark replied, “but I would say you’d want to get her to a doctor ASAP.  If left there, uh, too long, there would definitely be, um, consequences.”

“Okay, thank you sir,” replied Gerald, relieved that this Mark fellow had turned out to be intelligent and helpful.

“No problem, Jerry, no problem at all.  And I look forward to seeing your wife in my office tomorrow.”

Gerald was momentarily shocked, but then realized that the doctor was merely carrying the charade one step further.

“Oh, she’s looking forward to seeing you, too!” he replied after only a moment’s pause.  “Though maybe only half as much, at the moment.”

The doctor laughed, as did the men still in the room with Joan who were eavesdropping on the conversation.

After saying their goodbyes, Gerald hung up and pocketed his phone while walking back into Joan’s bedroom.

“Yank it,” he said.

Tim looked a bit concerned, but Joe whipped out a swiss army knife and pulled out the set of plastic tweezers.  Gerald was impressed.

Laying on her back, her eyes half closed, Joan had not evidenced any urge to fight, escape, or move much at all.  Until she saw the tweezers coming for her eye.

“WAAAAGH!” she screamed, promptly jumping up and leaping for the doorway which was blocked by Gerald.

Catching him off guard, and having considerably more adrenaline running through her body, she nearly overpowered him and shoved her way out, making Gerald glad he’d already locked the front door.

Off balance and struggling to keep her from getting past, Gerald nearly fell forward as the woman suddenly stopped her breakneck charge and collapsed onto the ground with a squeak.

Tim, coming up from behind, had lightly touched her injured side, and the resulting agony had completely drained her of all fight.

Gerald knelt and grabbed Joan’s face by the jaw while putting on knee in her stomach, keeping her pinned and forcing her to struggle for breath, further sapping any will to resist.  Tim, with his much larger hands, put his right thumb and forefinger in each of her temples and squeezed, immobilizing her head, while holding her wrists together above her head.  With his other hand, Gerald propped the woman’s eye open as Joe descended upon her with his tweezers.

It took three attempts, and Joan nearly broke free of even Tim and Gerald’s combined grip, but Joe was able to extract the needle.  It looked longer coming out than it did going in, and Gerald thought he was going to wretch.

Needles in the tits or legs or whatever didn’t really bother him, but something about a needle in the eye really turned his stomach.  Tim didn’t look much better off.

Joe, though, was completely unaffected, and as he was wearing shorts and standing over the woman on all fours, it was very obvious to both Gerald and Tim that Joe would be more than happy to take his turn next.

Inserting the needle had done it for Sam.  Removing it had, somehow, done it for Joe.

After watching her blink a few times, Joe looked up at Gerald who simply told him to “have at her.”  He was limp as an earthworm and figured Tim probably was, too.

Joe was elated.  Tim and Gerald moved out of the way as Joe put a hand under each of the woman’s armpits and drug her over to her bed.  This was something that Gerald had noticed about Joe in the few times that he’d had him as a customer.  Joe had a thing for raping women on their own beds.

He also liked them on top, which meant not being first worked out very well for him.  During the first rape, very few women were complacent enough to be on top.  By the second dick, they were generally pretty tame, though there were exceptions.

As Joe neared the bed, Joan stood on her own, apparently knowing what the man intended and deciding to comply instead of making it harder on herself.

Gerald again felt life between his legs as he saw the woman standing, wincing in pain, likely emanating from her side.  Her knee length white night gown fell neatly into place, with the exceptions of the bulges at her tits where one could see the outline of the clips and the wires that ran up to the collar on her neck.

Her physical appearance, mostly unharmed, belied her condition and the pain she was feeling from various parts of her body.

For a moment, Joan looked pitifully into Gerald’s eyes as if hoping, if only briefly, that the person she thought he might be was in there somewhere.

Gerald smiled back, looking neither menacing nor ashamed nor even necessarily happy.  Just content.

Joan was another paycheck; nothing more, nothing less.

Her head hung as Joe tugged at her wrist and, sobbing, Joan began to mount the older man who was laying on his back.

As she put a leg on either side and began lowering her cunt onto his dick, her eyes closed in shame, she felt a finger shoved roughly into her ass.  Her eyes shot open and she looked piteously at Joe, but he made it clear with the hook in his finger and a lifting motion that he wanted his penis to go in the other hole.

Joan was secretly glad.  Although she considered anal sex to be a very private and sacred thing, it was actually her favorite, and she was relieved that Joe wouldn’t be putting anything into her injured pussy.  She didn’t know what kind of damage had been done in there and she was fairly certain that aggravating it this soon would lead to nothing but trouble and pain.

Her ass, on the other hand, could handle anything with the proper amount of lube.

Acting out of habit, Joan reached her hand into her pussy, wincing as sharp pains shot through her groin and stomach.  As she went to push her finger into her own ass, however, Joe’s hand grasped her wrist, pulling it away.

“No lube,” he said.

“Oh caw…” Joan said, which was ring-gagged for “Oh god.”

Tears flowing anew, Joan sat on Joe’s dick.  He wasn’t long, but he didn’t need to be.  He was by far the widest she had ever taken in her ass, and she had no idea how to approach this with no lube.

Joe, grabbing her hips, gladly took over and began pushing her roughly down onto his dick.

The lack of lubrication hurt Joe as well, which merely increased his erotic drive.

Joan felt like she was taking it in the ass for the first time all over again.  She had to constantly remind herself to relax her sphincter to prevent tearing, but the pain was so intense that she was automatically clamping down, making things even harder on herself.  It was a natural reflex that she was finding impossible to override, and the width of his dick was not helping matters.

She felt as if her body was being split in half from the bottom up, and she’d never, ever had this feeling from anal before.  He must not have been completely hard at first, she thought, because surely he was even wider than she had seen.

Joan had given up on relaxing and was now just pushing, knowing from experience that it was much easier once it was all the way in.

Luckily for Joan, lubrication soon supplied itself.  Unluckily, the lubrication was in the form of blood trickling down from the agonizing rip in her flesh just above her anus.

Instinctively Joan tried to push herself off her rapist, but Joe was already in full swing and had a tight grip on her hips, making it difficult to breath and producing sharp pains from her damaged ribs.

His dick being rather short worked to Joan’s disadvantage.  Instead of getting all the way in and then pumping up and down, Joe entered and exited with every thrust.  The split in her flesh was growing and blood was trickling freely.

It was as if she were being raped, stabbed, and punched in the anus, all at the same time.

“That blood?” Joe asked the two men watching from the floor on the other side of the room.  Both were now rock hard.

“Yeah…” said Tim, with a bit of wonder in his voice, “a lot of it.”

The feeling of Joan’s blood trickling down his scrotum, in combination with her teardrops on his chest and the futile resistance from her legs pushing against the bed made Joe a happy man indeed.  He’d read her profile, and knew that she had enjoyed anal before this meeting.  He was sadistically ecstatic that he’d taken that away from her.

As he emptied himself into the woman’s injured ass, he reveled in the fact that he would likely be the last person to ever take her there.  Unless, of course, someone else decided to take her by force.

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joan chapter 3