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From: worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com (e. wolf)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 4 Dec 2001 01:23:20 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Jazz's Toys Part Five: Uncle Jazz (M/f, nc torture, rape, extreme)
Date: Tue,  4 Dec 2001 01:10:04 -0500
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All standard disclaimers apply. This kind of behaviour should never be
emulated in real life, and the author absolutely does not condone any
of the things contained in this story ever actually happening. Do not
read this if you're under 18 or are easily offended.


Jazz's Toys Part Five: Uncle Jazz (M/f, nc torture, rape, extreme)
by e. wolf

Technically Megan wasn't Jazz's niece, but her mom had married Jazz's
brother Dennis when she was two and a half so she'd grown up thinking
of him as Uncle Jazz. She hadn't seen much of him, but she'd noticed
the way her mother would glance at him nervously whenever he came
over, and how she'd never left him alone in the room with Megan.
But he'd always been plenty nice to her, bringing her presents at
Christmas and always sliding her a twenty-dollar bill under the table
with a wink whenever he came over for dinner. Jazz was a scary-looking
man, big and muscular with a shaved head and tattoos over every
visible part of h is body. But he'd never seemed particularly
intimidating to Megan, no matter how nervous he made her mother.
She knew he was coming over tonight, too, but she wasn't allowed out
of her room to go see him, and she knew better than to try to sneak
downstairs even if she did need the money. She still owed Greg for the
pot he'd scored for her last week, and he was breathing down her neck
about it.
So she stayed in her room, pressing her ear to the heating duct to
hear what her mom and stepdad were saying to Jazz in the living room.
"I don't know," she heard her mother say. "It's such a terrible thing
to do to her, but we just can't control her anymore. She's just
running wild, dressing like a street tramp, coming home at all hours
of the night, sneaking out when we ground her, and I'm sure she's
using drugs."
"What kind of drugs?"
"I - I don't know. But I just know she's getting deeper and deeper
into it. The police have brought her home three times now, and I'm
just sure she's going to come home pregnant one of these days."
Jazz laughed. 
"So you want me to ... what, fix her? Make her a nice, drug-free,
respectable girl? All right, but has Dennis told you about my, uh,
style?"
Megan couldn't see her mother shuddering, but she heard the pause
before the woman answered.
"I know enough," she said. "I don't care how you do it, but I want her
obedient. I'm getting tired of this bullshit she's been pulling."
Megan was startled. She'd never heard her mother curse before.
"All right," Jazz said. "I'll take her with me now, if you like. You
can have her back in ... oh, I think a month should do it."
"A month?"
"Well, we don't want any relapses, do we? Need to make sure she's
thoroughly trained."
The words sent a chill down Megan's spine. Her mother had been talking
about teaching her some
manners, about kicking her out of the house, all sorts of dire threats
that just made Megan laugh. Her mother wouldn't kick her out; she was
an only child, and her mother had spoiled her rotten as a young child.
Now, at sixteen, she knew her mom and stepfather cared about her, but
there was nothing they could do to control her behaviour. But what did
Uncle Jazz have to do with anything? What did he mean by `thoroughly
trained?'

When Uncle Jazz came upstairs to fetch her he was smiling.
"You're gonna stay with me for a little while," he said. "Your mom and
dad say they've been having some trouble getting you to toe the line,
so I said you could crash at my place for a while."
Megan tried to smile - after all, she wasn't supposed to have been
listening, and besides, who knew? This might actually be fun. She knew
Uncle Jazz liked to party - maybe he could score her some good stuff.
He drove a crappy car - some old green shitbox, one of those massive
cars from the seventies. Megan noticed the handle on the inside of the
passenger door was missing - Jazz would have to open the door for her
from the outside. It didn't occur to her that he'd removed it
intentionally - but then again, Megan didn't know about Uncle Jazz's
hobbies.
He lived way out in the middle of nowhere, in a rundown old place with
half the windows boarded up. Again, she didn't stop to think that he
might have done that intentionally ... but she was starting to realize
this wasn't going to be much fun. For a few minutes she'd been
thinking maybe he'd let her have parties at his place, but there was
no way she would ever invite any of her friends over to a dump like
this.
He let her out of the car and showed her into the living room.
"Have a seat," he said. "We need to get some things straight."
Jazz sat in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace and Megan perched on
the couch, looking around at the coat of grime that seemed to cover
everything in the place.
"So, what did you mean by `training'?" she said. "Are you gonna make
me clean your house or something?"
Jazz grinned.
"You've been eavesdropping," he said. "And yeah, I might have you
clean the place up at some point."
"Well, I'm not gonna do it," she said. "I'm not gonna be anybody's
maid, I can tell you that right now."
Jazz's grin dissolved, and he gave her a stern look.
"It would be better if you did what I told you to do while you're
here," he said. "I don't have much patience for disobedient little
brats."
Megan was a little taken aback. She wasn't used to being spoken to
like that. All the same, it was a long walk back to civilization, so
she figured she'd play along with him for now. If he got to be too
much of an asshole she could always take off after dark, hitchhike
back to town while he was sleeping.
Jazz leaned back in his chair, his knees slightly apart.
"Tell you what. Why don't you come and sit over here on my lap?"
So that was how it was going to be. Oh, well, Megan thought. What did
it matter? Her pervert stepfather - Jazz's brother - had been sneaking
into her room since she was seven and feeling her up. What did it
matter if her uncle wanted to cop a feel, too?
She tossed her hair back and crossed the room to where he was sitting.
Jazz pulled the girl into his lap and held her close to him, firmly,
so she wasn't going anywhere.
"Megan, are you a virgin?" he said as though he was asking her the
time.
"What? Not that it's any of your business, but no I'm not."
"How many boys have you fucked?"
"Two."
"Just in your cunt, or in your mouth and asshole as well?"
Megan was starting to get distressed at this line of questioning.
Having him fondle her was one thing - now he was starting to talk
about rape. She began to struggle in his lap and try to pull away from
him.
"Let me go, you fucking pervert. I'm not gonna answer that - OW!"
Jazz had seized her hair, a big handful right at the base of her neck,
and was pulling it taut. She was a pretty girl, not stunning, but she
had beautiful long red hair that was her pride and joy.
"I could rip this out by the roots," Jazz said. "Or you could answer
my questions. Up to you."
"Ow, just in my, um, vagina."
"Cunt," said Jazz firmly. "Little sluts like you don't have `vaginas.'
They have cunts. You are a cunt, and you have a cunt. Understand?"
"Ow, yes, Uncle Jazz."
"Very good. Now say it properly."
"Ow, please stop pulling, ow! They've only fucked me in my, um, cunt."
"Very good. That gives me two virgin holes to fuck. My favourite. Now,
here are some of the rules for your stay here, Megan. First of all,
those clothes of yours are gonna have to come off. You won't be
needing them while you're here. Later on we'll burn them in the
fireplace, kind of a symbol for your new life."
"No way! These are Tommy Hilf - OW!" Jazz had reached up under Megan's
short t-shirt and given her nipple a tweak - not too hard, just enough
to get her attention.
"I said take off your clothes, Megan. We won't burn them until you're
ready. But I want you naked, and if you're not naked in sixty seconds,
I will cut those clothes off with a knife. Do you understand?"
And he shoved her off his lap so hard she landed in a heap on the
floor. The girl started to cry.
"Uncle Jazz, why are you doing this to me? I haven't done anything to
you. Come on, please, just let me go home. I promise I'll be good from
now on."
"You're wasting time," he said calmly, sitting back with his legs
splayed apart.  "Forty seconds left. Thirty-nine."
Realizing there was no chance, Megan began to peel off her sweatshirt,
then her pants. At ten seconds, Jazz stood and took a step toward her
just in time for her to step out of her panties and finish unclasping
her bra and throwing it on the floor.
"Very good, Megan," he said, seizing her arm and pulling her back
toward him. He embraced her in a rough bear hug, pressing her naked
body against him, feeling her tremble. "Now, tell me, do you like the
way my body feels against yours?"
Megan sobbed, knowing the right answer but not believing it enough to
say it aloud.
"No, I don't. Please, just let me go home, please, I won't tell anyone
you made me undress or ..."
Jazz sat down abruptly, pulling the girl back into his lap. In a flash
he'd turned her over so she lay face-down over his left leg, using his
right leg to pin both of hers in place.
"I'm going to give you a spanking now, Megan. You've been rude to your
parents and you've been rude to me. By the time you return home you'll
be a polite, obedient little cunt. I've discussed this with your
parents and they've agreed that any time you disobey them from now on,
I'll be allowed to deal with you."
Megan let out an anguished wail at this, renewing her sobs even before
Jazz's hand came down across her upturned ass. When it did, she
screamed in pain and began to thrash about, trying to slide out from
under his muscular leg. His hand came down twenty, thirty, fifty
times, so fast it sounded like applause echoing off the walls of his
small living room. Her ass felt like it was on fire as he continued to
slap it, so many times she lost count. Her screams became a continuous
moan of pain as the spanking continued for what felt like an hour.
Jazz wasn't planning on stopping until his arm got tired, and as he
was quite strong and had been applying punishments like this for many
years, that wasn't liable to happen anytime soon.
Eventually Megan was dizzy from the pain and too tired from fighting
against it to even scream anymore. Instead she just lay across Jazz's
lap and whimpered feebly, waiting for him to finish.
When he was finished he didn't say a word, just straightened out his
legs and let Megan fall to the floor. She curled up into a fetal ball,
shaking and whining as her hands roamed back to caress her burning
ass. She scarcely noticed Jazz lifting her easily and carrying her
into the back of the house, where he deposited her in his empty
bathtub.
"Get up on your knees," he said. Groggy from pain, but not wanting
another spanking anytime soon, Megan struggled to kneel on the cold
metal. Jazz reached into a cupboard and pulled out a roll of gauze,
the kind for making bandages. From another cupboard he produced a
package of elastic bands, which he used to tie Megan's long red hair
into a tight ponytail high on her head. Next he began to wrap the
gauze around her head, over her nose, around the back of her neck,
across her eyes - everywhere but her mouth and the ponytail. When that
first roll of gauze was used up, Jazz produced another one from the
cupboard and began to wrap it over the first one. Soon Megan was
completely blind and three-quarters deaf as roll after roll of the
gauze went round and round her head. She tried to relax as he wrapped
the gauze tightly - at least he wasn't hurting her, she thought - but
it was only a matter of time before he started hurting her again, so
she trembled and whimpered with fear as he took away her senses.
"Now, let's get you cleaned out," she heard him say, the sound muffled
through the thick layer of gauze that now covered her ears. Cleaned
out? What did that mean?
She could feel him now, poking at her lips with something that felt
like a length of rubber tubing.
"Let's give you a little drink, first of all," he said. "I'd hate for
you to get dehydrated; we have a long couple of days ahead of us." He
prodded the tube into her mouth, pushing it deeper and deeper until
finally it tickled the back of her throat, making her gag.
"Swallow the tube," he said loudly, and Megan was too terrified to do
otherwise. She struggled to suppress her gag reflex as the rubber tube
entered her throat. Once it was firmly lodged in her esophagus, Jazz
fitted the other end of the tube, which was much wider, over the
faucet on his bathroom sink and turned the tap on `cold.' Megan let
out a whimper as she felt the icy water begin to rush into her
stomach. Jazz put a hand on the back of her thickly-wrapped head to
hold her still. He let the tap run for several minutes, filling
Megan's stomach with water until her belly began to swell visibly. She
wriggled with discomfort and tried to buck her head to expel the tube.
"Leave it," Jazz barked. "And don't you dare piss any of it out.
You'll go when I say you can go."
When her stomach was full Jazz pulled out the tube, nearly making
Megan vomit. She gasped and coughed as he ran his hands over her
swollen belly.
"Control yourself," he warned her. "We're nowhere near done, and I'd
hate to have to start over."
Next she felt his fingers running over her ass, spreading her cheeks
wide and probing around her tight pink puckered hole. She felt
something hard and cold pressing up against her anus, Jazz's huge
callused fingers forcing it deep inside.
"Don't move," he told her. "And if I see a drop leaking out of you
before I give you permission I'm going to have to punish you.
Understand?"
"Eth," Megan said around the tube. Jazz gave the nozzle in her ass a
final twist to ensure it was firmly lodged inside her, then slipped
the other end of the tube over the faucet again and turned the water
on, `hot' this time.
Megan began to shriek as the nearly scalding water rushed into her
bowels, filling her already-swollen insides and burning her flesh from
within.
"That'll get you nice and cleaned out," Jazz said. He pulled the
nozzle from her ass and replaced it with a thick plug, holding the
water inside. "Now, I've got some stuff to do. Don't move; I'll be
back when I'm done."
Megan kneeled in the tub for what seemed like hours. She could hear
Jazz rattling around in the next room, and for a few minutes she
contemplated trying to unwind the gauze that enshrouded her head and
making a break for it. But with her hearing muffled as it was, and the
fact she couldn't see Jazz coming, she decided it was in her best
interests to stay put. Her belly was cramping terribly, but she
strained to hold everything inside. It was tough, though. The water in
her stomach had moved on to her bladder, and was pressing to come out.
Her mind was racing with all the terrible things Jazz had done to her
so far in the short time she'd been in his house. She couldn't even
conceive of what he might do to her next.
After an age he came back in the room and seized the tube that was
still in Megan's mouth.
"I'm going to pull this out now," he said. "Just be warned, if you
puke in my bathroom you will lick it all up."
Megan struggled to suppress the urge to vomit as he roughly yanked the
tube up her esophagus, leaving her throat raw and sore.
"Now I'm going to pull out this plug and sit you on the toilet," he
said. "Once you're sitting, you can release what's inside you."
Megan began to weep with something like gratitude as Jazz lifted her
up and pried the large plug out of her ass. As he sat her on the
toilet a rush of shit and piss came roaring out of her, and she
doubled over, the cramps in her belly suddenly relieved.
He let her sit for a minute or two after she'd finished, gasping with
the effort of expelling all that water. Megan hoped she'd earned a
rest, but figured that wasn't really Jazz's style. He was probably
just going to take her into the bedroom and rape her now, she thought.
She would almost have preferred that to what came next, though. Jazz
lifted her off the toilet and dropped her unceremoniously back into
the tub.
"That was good," he said loudly. "Now let's do it again. We want you
to be nice and clean for the next stage of your training."
She sobbed as he shoved the nozzle back into her asshole and turned
the water on, ice-cold this time. He let more water rush into her
bowels this time, since her stomach was nearly empty now, only turning
off the tap when Megan's belly was so distended she looked as if she
was pregnant.
This time he left her for longer, kneeling on the cold steel with a
huge plug jammed in her asshole, and she moaned and wailed, screaming
for him to let her go, promising to be good from now on.
Jazz listened to her from the next room, occasionally banging on
something or making a chair leg scrape against the floor to create the
illusion he was getting something ready for her. In reality, he was
more than ready for her. His cock was ready, too, and it took all the
discipline he could muster not to just rush back into the bathroom and
fuck the girl's mouth on the spot. But he needed to wait; it was
important that he do everything in an appropriate order. Usually Jazz
just grabbed girls off the street and used them up however he wanted
to. But with Megan, the outcome was important, at least to his brother
Dennis. It was as a favour to him that Jazz had agreed to take Megan
in for a month, to train her as a good obedient cunt. Dennis had
nearly the same tastes as Jazz when it came to sex - he liked to be
the one in control, he liked his sluts to hurt for him. But he'd never
really had the desire to go out and get a new toy every time he'd used
one up; he wanted his own permanent collection, as it were. That
domineering bitch of a wife of his had never been a particularly good
candidate for that position, so Dennis had been working on Megan for
the past few years. But training wasn't his forte either - all he'd
managed to do was grope the girl in her bed a few times a week - which
was where Jazz came in.
Jazz waited a good three-quarters of an hour this time before he went
back into the bedroom and allowed Megan to relieve herself.
This time, when he put her on the toilet, she began to beg as the
dirty water ran from her bowels.
"Please, no more, stop this, I'm sorry, I'll do anything, I've had
enough."
But Jazz tired of this after just a few minutes and produced another
roll of gauze from the cupboard. This time he shoved a huge rubber
cock-shaped gag into the girl's mouth, then tightly bandaged under her
chin so her jaw wouldn't open. He covered over her mouth except for a
small breathing-hole that ran through the centre of the gag, leaving
her completely unable to communicate except by moans and muffled
screams.
"All right. Let's finish cleaning you out," he said with a wicked grin
Megan couldn't see. And he picked her up and put her back in the
bathtub.
She tried to struggle as he worked the nozzle back into her asshole,
but she was too exhausted and Jazz was too strong for it to make much
of a difference. This time the water was hot again, hotter than
before, and she let out muffled grunts of agony from behind her thick
gag.
He let her sit for more than an hour this time, until the water was no
longer hot but her swollen belly was cramping so badly Megan thought
she might literally explode.
Finally, for the third time Jazz sat his little trainee on the toilet
and let her drain her bowels. She would be good and clean when it was
finally time to fuck her asshole, he thought with a smile.
But there was a while to go before she'd be ready for that. He lifted
Megan off the toilet, and for a minute she thought he was going to put
her back in the bathtub and fill her up again. This time, though, he
carried her into the next room and set her down in a standing
position.
"Don't move," he said, and she suddenly felt him seize her left hand
and slide a thick leather mitten over it. The mitten was lined with
something soft and warm, some kind of fur, but it wasn't completely
pleasant. It was too small for her to move her fingers around, and
after a few minutes her hands began to sweat.
Before she had time to think too much about that, though, Jazz had
lifted her feet and encased them in booties similar to the mittens.
Then he took a length of thick quilt batting and began to wrap Megan's
right leg starting at the ankle. He wound it all the way up her leg to
her thigh, then up over her ass cheeks, around her waist and down the
other leg. He had an incredible amount of the stuff, Megan thought as
he began to wrap her torso tightly, flattening her 34C tits
uncomfortably against her chest, then wrapping each arm, her neck,
even several layers over the gauze on her head. It was forty-five
minutes or more before he'd finished. She was practically  mummified
by that time, completely encased in the thick, hot wrap, unable to see
or even hear anymore. Jazz smiled as he surveyed his handiwork. He'd
left a gap in the wrapping between her thighs, leaving her two nether
holes accessible, and the breathing tube that ran through the middle
of the dildo stuck out of the wrap on her head.
"Now it's time to get comfortable," Jazz said, although Megan couldn't
hear his words. The thick
batting around her ears blanked out nearly everything. She let out a
startled gasp as he lifted her again, this time setting her down on
her back on the bed in his spare room and arranging her into a
position that suited him. He tied her wrists to the headboard, then
bent her legs double and looped a rope behind her knees, securing them
to the headboard as well.
"Mmm, look at that," he said aloud, although there was no one to hear
him. "A lovely little collection of fuckholes."
It was time, he decided. His cock was going to burst if he didn't jam
it into one of those holes soon. And what was the point in having
cleaned out her asshole so thoroughly if he wasn't going to make use
of it? But first, he thought, the poor girl was having a rough day.
Why not give her a little pleasure before he made her hurt again? Jazz
knelt on the bed between Megan's upward-stretched thighs and ran his
hand up and down the exposed flesh between her legs. She let out a
gasp at the feel of his hand brushing her soft pink labia, the warmth
of his tongue pushing them apart, probing into her dark, dry hole. It
felt good, Megan thought, to feel something besides pain and
discomfort for a change. She lay bound and wrapped tightly, blind and
deaf and gagged, unable to feel anything happening around her except
for that few square inches between her legs. Jazz began to lick her
gently, running his tongue between her cunt lips until despite
herself, Megan began to moisten. He grinned, then sucked her labia
completely into his mouth and stimulated them with his tongue until
she was nearly hyperventilating.
Deep inside her cocoon, Megan sobbed with shame. She wasn't supposed
to be enjoying this ... this molestation; in fact she wasn't really.
But the scalding hot and freezing cold water rushing through her
innards had left her exhausted, and the thick padding over her entire
body made her completely disoriented. Add to that the stimulation on
her only remaining exposed flesh, and she was completely overwhelmed.
Jazz found her tiny clitoris with his tongue and probed it, and Megan
began to shudder with orgasm, her moans of rapture coming loud and
clear through the breathing hole in the penis gag.

Jazz's cock was leaking precum by the time he'd finished bringing
Megan to completion: now it was his turn. Megan could feel his weight
shifting on the bed as he mounted her, felt his huge hard cock begin
to probe her tight, tiny puckered hole. He let out a grunt she
couldn't hear as he pushed the head of his cock past her anal ring. It
made an audible `pop' sound, but of course Megan couldn't hear that
either. She could feel it, though, as Jazz knelt between her legs,
lining his cock up with her newly-cleaned asshole, then letting
himself fall into her, his entire weight (which was considerable - he
was close to 300 pounds of solid muscle) driving his cock deep into
her tight passage. She wailed and moaned as he began to ride her hard,
grunting like an animal with each thrust. Despite the extent of his
arousal, he was in her a good long time, stretching her, filling her
with his thick cock, making her squall with helpless pain.
Finally he let out a roar the girl couldn't hear and spewed his load
into her, one of the best orgasms he'd had in a long time.
He pulled out of her and tucked his softening cock back into his
jeans, standing to look the girl over critically.
Yes, he thought, she would learn to obey. After a few days of sensory
deprivation, only able to feel her cunt and asshole, her mind would be
nice and pliable, ready for him to shape.

TO BE CONTINUED ... 

The author welcomes questions/comments/suggestions at
worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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