Joan - The Human Pincushion
Gerald woke early the next morning.  Glancing at the clock on Joan's nightstand, he noticed that it was only 8 AM, a full two hours before clients would start arriving.  He was used to waking up early, though.  Ever since he had begun doing this for a living, over five years prior, he woke full of energy, and generally a bit early.  The whole gang rape and sex slave industry really seemed to agree with him.

He sat up, stretching and yawning, to look at his current asset.  As was normal, Joan had somehow managed to fall asleep.  Very few women made it the entire night, which was something that Gerald had always found interesting considering he didn't see how one could possibly sleep on all fours, filled with piss and shit.  But they almost always did.

Joan had settled into a position that put her weight on the side of her neck, as opposed to directly on her windpipe.  Gerald watched her sleep, wondering if she had consciously done this so that she could fall asleep, or if that's just the way she fell.  It was hard to tell since every other part of her body was almost immobile.  

No matter how many times he did this, and no matter how many women he saw in this exact same position, it always made him horny as hell.  

Without getting out of bed, Gerald reached over and grabbed Joan's hair.  She woke quickly as he began pulling her toward him and almost immediately began yelling.

“Ah, AGH, stop-stop-STOP-OW-OWWW!” she said.  When she looked up at Gerald, however, her eyes wide and moist, she immediately went quiet.  Gerald ignored her pleas entirely.  

Once she was in place between Gerald's legs, he gave her the same speech that he gave every woman on the morning of their “general admission” day, as he called it.

“Here's how today is going to go.  You're going to be leaned forward with your arms behind your back, attached to the ceiling, and a bunch of guys are going to line up, come in, and take you two at a time.  They might take you in the ass, or the cunt, I don't know, and don't particularly care.  That part is set in stone; my business relies on this day.

You do have a few choices, though.  I can put the ring gag back in and they can just fuck your throat, or we can leave it out if you actually would rather give head.  It'll be much easier on you if you actually give head since they won't start humping your face until they're almost ready to cum.  Plus, I think it gives women something to concentrate on.  The ones who don't end up gagged usually end up less...traumatized after this day, as far as I can tell.  

You'll show me which you'd rather do by giving me head right now.  If I feel so much as a scrape from a tooth, I will pull every fucking pearly white out of your head with my vice grips and shove them up your ass, do you understand me?”

The sudden shift from informing to threatening shocked Joan, and she immediately nodded yes, her eyes huge.  She could give a good BJ.  Anything to keep that damn ring gag out, and her teeth in.  

“Two other things,” Gerald continued.  “I'll let you piss and shit after you blow me, and then we'll need to clean your ass out.  I would rather you do the enema yourself, since I find the whole process rather nasty, but I'll do it if I have to.  It'll be a lot more comfortable if you do it yourself.  Also, we need you dressed before the clients get here.  I don't know why, but I find that they all enjoy seeing a woman dressed and all fucked up than completely nude.  I think it lends a 'fresh catch' air to the whole thing.  I'll let you pick the outfit unless you make me do it, which I hate.  As far as I'm concerned, you can wear whatever the fuck you want.  They'll strip you down plenty fast once they get to it.  I'm talking shoes, jewelry, makeup, hose, everything.  This just might be your last chance to wear any of your clothes, so make good use of it.”

The last part almost made Joan talk.  She looked up at Gerald, but could see in his eyes that he fully expected her to respond, and was ready to administer a punishment.  Her mouth shut with a click as one thought flashed like a bright neon sign in her mind.  She was convinced that he was going to kill her after he was done with her.  

Gerald watched Joan intently.  This was a crossroads that all of his women came to.  Some would begin to fight like a wild cat, screaming and yelling, while others would suddenly become very compliant, resigned to their fate.  He was curious to see which way Joan would go.  He'd judged her to be fairly intelligent, but easily defeated based on her actions so far.  All signs pointed to her giving up entirely, which would make this day go far easier for both of them.  

If she started fighting, he'd just drug her, but that would include a lot of dragging around and trying to dress her, give her an enema, and all of that extra work.  

Luckily for both of them, Joan slumped in her bindings and started crying.  She had decided that she was already dead.  She looked up at Gerald piteously, hoping that he would change his mind, but that only made him that much more ready to put his dick in her mouth, which is exactly what he did.

Joan didn't like oral sex.  However, being a sexually active woman in her thirties, she certainly knew how to give a blow-job.  She opened her mouth as wide as she could while using her lips to provide suction on his cock.  

She flitted her tongue along the slit, teasing the head and tasting his pre-cum until he started humping a bit.  At first, he contained himself, but Joan used what little movement she had available to her to run her mouth up and down his shaft, stopping just shy of her gag reflex.  When Gerald moved his left hand from atop her head to behind it, she knew he was taking over.  Using his strong hand to grasp the back of her skull, he began fucking her face in earnest.  

Gerald made no pretense at trying to delay the orgasm or make the experience last.  He felt no need to savor the moment – he raped women all the time.  By this point, Joan's head was just along for the ride.  All she could do was try to keep a bit of suction with her lips and keep her tongue high enough that the bottom of his cock would slide over it on its way to her throat.  She'd known that he was predictable from the night before, and silently congratulated herself for getting him off with very little drama, although he hadn't gotten nearly as involved when the other guys were around the day before.  

When he came into her throat, completely bypassing her mouth, he spewed buckets of the stuff.  It took all of Joan's concentration to not gag, and he held her there about ten seconds past when she began panicking due to lack of air.  All she could really do, though, was try to pull her head away, which was completely unsuccessful.  

Once he was done, he released her head, which flew backwards to the edge of its bonds as if it were spring loaded.  Joan coughed and panted, blinking and shaking her head slightly, trying to clear the encroaching tunnel vision as Gerald laid back and closed his eyes, relaxing for a moment, listening to her sputtering.  He'd felt a brushing of teeth twice, but it was while he was skull fucking her, so he really didn't care.  He'd really only been threatening her anyway.  Some of his clients would have probably taken exception to a toothless woman, and he wanted their money more than he wanted to punish the woman for an honest mistake.  

After resting for a moment, Gerald sat back up, then knelt on the floor in front of Joan.  He released the cuffs at her waist and neck, then her wrists, then her ankles.  

Joan had fully expected to collapse once she was finally released, but the reality of the situation was that her limbs were extremely stiff from maintaining the same position for hours on end.  Slowly, painfully, Joan pulled her right hand toward her chest, then replaced it on the ground.  

Gerald watched.  Yes, he could yell at, kick, or even shock her to make her move faster, but she'd just end up tearing a muscle or tendon.  Far better to let her uncurl herself naturally, then push her along.  He watched as she pulled her left hand toward her chest while squinting in pain.  Her first instinct would be to try to stand, to make sure that she still could, and since he hadn't told her what he expected her to do besides go to the restroom at some point, he assumed, correctly, that she would act on that instinct.  

Some women made another escape attempt at this point, the morning after.  Gerald wasn't surprised that Joan didn't.  She had stayed silent all night while he slept, and had actually been fairly obedient besides.  She certainly wasn't broken, but she was currently feeling thoroughly defeated.  

Slowly she stood, devoid of all bonds except the four clamps and the collar.  As she reached her full height, and the muscles in her legs extended, she hissed through her teeth at the dull aches.  The standing, she decided, was far worse than the kneeling all night had been.  

Gerald stood and went to the chest of drawers across the room.  Joan, unsure as to what she was supposed to do, hugged herself while avoiding her clamped nipples.  From one of her drawers, Gerald retrieved a few pairs of panty hose.  

“Open your mouth, this is temporary,” he said.

Jaw trembling, Joan opened her mouth.

Gerald shoved one entire pair of panty hose as deep into her mouth as he could, then one leg of the other.  He then took the leg, wrapped it around the back of her head, and tucked it into itself back at her mouth, effectively forming an impromptu gag.  

He had ball gags and such, of course, but using a woman's clothes against her is far more humiliating.  

“Put your hands behind your back and hold them together, tightly,” Gerald said.  “Trust me, you don't want to do anything you'll regret...”

Joan was confused, but only briefly.  Gerald reached down and pulled the clip off her left cunt lip.  Then the right.  It was about the time that the right was fully off that the blood hit the left, powering the tortured nerves that were located there, causing Joan to scream bloody murder into her panty hose.  Feeling from the other side followed shortly thereafter, turning her whole cunt into an epicenter of pain that radiated out into her stomach and legs.  

Before she could comprehend the obvious next step, the clamp had been removed from her left nipple, then her right, as well.  She expected the nipples to hurt less, but the fire from them was just as intense as that which came from between her legs.  

Somewhere in the back of her mind, quietly making its presence known amongst the pain filled screams ricocheting about, something also let her know that she really, really needed to pee.  

Gerald detached the clamps from the small plug that they inhabited on the collar, and pocketed them.  He walked over to his bag of toys while Joan stood there huddling, shivering and choking on her own tears, and retrieved a tiny padlock as well as an enema kit.  

He slipped the padlock through the little hole in the buckle on the shock collar and clicked it shut.  The clamps were really just for fun, anyway.  The collar alone was plenty powerful enough to knock her out if need be, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as the full body effect.  The collar had been designed to be water resistant, but simple physics said that if he were to activate it while she was in the shower, the effects would be...interesting.  He'd never been that brave, though.  It wasn't that killing was unacceptable to him, but more that it would be an enormous waste of an investment, of both time and money, by this point.  

He put the enema kit in her hands, then laid back on her bed.  He lay on his belly, facing the master bathroom, his chin on his hands.  Joan was, again, disturbed at how comfortable he was with this whole situation.  It was almost as if they were teenage friends, and he was just hanging out in her bedroom with her.  Except, of course, that she was naked, collared, a prisoner, full of urine and feces with both holes plugged, and was experiencing a fading, but still intense pain from all of her most private areas.    

“Alright, you have an hour,” he told her after glancing at her clock.  “In that time I expect you to have pissed, shit, used the enema, showered, dressed, and put on make-up.  Remember, I want hose, shoes, jewelry, everything.  Make yourself look really pretty and some of these guys might actually spare you.”

The last part was a blatant lie.  The prettier the girl, the more harsh the treatment, always.  Joan had no way of knowing that, though.

“Just pull the little strings to get the plugs out your ass and pee hole,” he continued, while gesturing at her nude body.  “I want them both back, so be sure to keep hold of the string after you pull them, and do them one at a time.  I suggest peeing first; it's easier and it'll release some of the pressure on your bowel.

There's instructions in the enema kit.  If you won't do it, I will, but I'll just shove a garden hose up your ass and turn it on until your belly bulges, then sit you on the toilet to empty out.  The enema is for your comfort, I suggest you figure out how to use it.  I'll finger your asshole when you're done, and I better not see a trace of brown, do you understand?  I suggest doing it yourself before you ever even come out, just to be sure.”

Joan nodded.  She understood, and she'd used an enema before.  It wasn't comfortable, but it was a far cry from the brutal sodomy of the day before.  

“Leave the door open,” Gerald continued, “and don't worry about the collar, it's waterproof.  I think.”  

Joan's eyes widened, and Gerald grinned impishly.  

“Go, get busy!” he yelled as he waved her toward the restroom.

So she went.  

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