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Message-ID: <34114asstr$1008565808@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com (e. wolf)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 16 Dec 2001 22:20:06 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Jazz's Toys Part Nine: A New Pet For Jazz (M/F n/c torture, rape, kidnap)
Date: Mon, 17 Dec 2001 00:10:08 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Disclaimer, disclaimer, disclaimer: Do not try any of this stuff at
home, kids. Anyone who actually acts out any of the twisted, illegal
stuff in this story is a sick puppy and should go to jail. Don't read
this if you're not a grownup.

Jazz's Toys Part Nine: A New Pet For Jazz
(M/F n/c torture, rape, kidnap)

by e. wolf

Jazz slept for nearly eight hours, waking at dawn with another raging
erection. It took him a second to remember where he was, and he smiled
as he looked down at the bound, tortured girl beneath him. She was
wide awake, not having slept a minute all night, and as she felt him
stirring she began to whimper anew.
"P-please, Sir, I have to pee," she said.
"Well, don't do it in the tent," he told her. But he made no move to
release her, rather, he got to his knees and jammed his cock back into
her still-sloppy hole, now caked with dried cum, then began to fuck
her again.
The look on her face was priceless, he thought, as every stroke hit
the girl's full bladder. He took his time this time, reaching up as he
fucked her to pull the duct tape from her arms and legs. Stiffly she
tried to straighten her legs, convulsing with pain as the blood began
to return to her newly-freed limbs.
Jazz smiled, not missing a beat as his prisoner's painful first
movements made her cunt squeeze him even tighter. He squeezed her
tits, which were swollen and turning black-and-blue from his treatment
the previous night. She groaned with pain, sobbing and whimpering as
he continued to fuck her.
Eventually he pulled out, his cock still hard, his balls swollen and
heavy with cum.
"Open your mouth," he told the girl, clambering up to straddle her
chest, aiming his cock at her face. It was spewing pre-cum as she
opened her mouth, and he held her jaw with one hand as he jerked his
cock with the other, spewing streams of cum all over her face and
hair. When he was done he used his softening cock to wipe the sticky
globs off her cheeks and into her open mouth.
"Swallow it, Elizabeth," he said. "Swallow my cum."
She did her best, although it was obvious from her face that she'd
never tasted the stuff before and was repulsed by the taste.
"What's the matter?" Jazz asked. "Didn't your boyfriend make you
swallow his cock?" She shook her head, trying not to gag as she forced
the thick, salty stuff down her throat. "Oh, honey, you should always
swallow a man's cum," he said, smiling. "It shows him you know how to
be a good slut. A good slut appreciates anything that comes out of her
master's cock."
And with that, he thrust his into her mouth and began to piss down her
throat. She coughed and sputtered, panicking as her mouth filled with
his bitter, early-morning hot piss.
"Swallow, Elizabeth," he told her, letting out a guttural grunt as he
finished his piss. She choked that down as well, bending and unbending
her elbows and knees to try and restore some of the feeling in them to
distract her from the fact she was swallowing her kidnapper's urine.
"Please, Sir," she ventured when she'd finished swallowing. "I really
have to go pee. It's urgent."
"Really?" Jazz smiled. "Well, just remember, you need permission to go
pee."
"Then, may I have permission?"
"To do what?" He was pulling on his jeans now, tucking his cock
inside. Even soft, encased in its foreskin, it looked menacing, a
thick snake concealed in a denim casing.
Elizabeth let out a frustrated hiss. He was going to enjoy this, she
realized - this making her beg to void her bladder.
"Please, Sir, could I please go pee? It's really urgent, please let me
go."
Jazz looked her over, considering the request for a minute.
"No, I don't think so," he told her. "I've got some other stuff on the
agenda for this morning."
Elizabeth whimpered as he dragged her outside. She hadn't had a good
look at the campsite the previous day, since she'd arrived in the
trunk of the car, but by daylight it looked as though there wasn't
much chance of rescue by passerby. The road Jazz had used to drive in
was an old one, overgrown with weeds so it scarcely looked like a
road, and there was absolutely nothing else around - no buildings, no
paths, no fences, not even any sign of a rough hiking trail.
"I think there's about four people in the world who know about this
spot," Jazz said as if reading her mind. "Well, I mean, there's more
people than that who know about it, but they wouldn't know how to get
here, since most of them arrived the same way you did, all tied up and
blindfolded."
The girl shuddered. She stood shivering, naked, in the early morning
dew, her cold wet feet seeming to intensify her need to urinate, her
limbs screaming from stiffness after being restrained in such an
unnatural position all night.
Jazz took another length of rope from the back seat of the car - it
seemed he'd brought a neverending supply of the stuff. He draped it
over the back of Elizabeth's neck and down between her full, bruised
tits, then wound it around each swollen mound three, four times before
drawing the rope back up around her neck and tying her to the same
tree branch as the night before. The rope wasn't tight enough to
constrict her airway, but it was tight enough to remind her of its
presence with every movement, making her tits swell further and
pressing against her throat.
"I told you last night that we were going to get some blood out of you
today, didn't I?" he said with a wicked grin. He pulled out a huge
knife and cut a switch from a nearby tree. It was thin and swishy,
green wood, nice and resilient.
"Please," she moaned, shifting from foot to foot, pressing her thighs
together. "Just let me go pee first."
"I'll tell you what," Jazz said. "I'm going to hit you with this fifty
times. If you can make it to the end of fifty without pissing
yourself, I'll let you go in the bushes. Otherwise I'll have to punish
you. Understand?"
"This isn't punishment?" Elizabeth said.
"Punishment?" Jazz frowned. "For what? You haven't done anything wrong
yet, honey. You've been a very good little painslut."
The girl began to cry anew at this, obviously not seeing it as a
compliment. Jazz couldn't resist giving her swollen nipples a sharp
tweak before he circled around the back of her with the switch. She
wriggled and let out a groan as the first slash of the branch cut
across the tops of her thighs. Another blow left a stinging red welt
across her left ass cheek, a third across her lower back, a fourth
across her shoulder blades.
"Lift your arms again," Jazz told her. "Like yesterday, fingers linked
behind your head."
This position only seemed to make her bladder feel fuller as her belly
was pulled tighter. She had a slight potbelly to begin with, and Jazz
paused in his switching to circle around the front and run his rough
hands over it, pressing down slightly.
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I lost count just there," he said. "How many
was that? One? Two?"
"Four," she said quickly. "It was four. Please, hurry! Ohh, I have to
pee so bad, please Sir."
"Are you asking me to hit you?" he said with a smile.
"Yes Sir, please, hit me fifty times so I can go pee. Please, do it
now!"
Jazz laughed, kissed her on the lips.
"You're a very good slut," he said, stroking her hair. "Maybe I should
just keep you."
She nodded, suddenly hopeful that he wouldn't kill her when all this
was over.
"Yes Sir, you can keep me if you want. Do whatever you want to me,
please. Please ..."
He used her dreadlocks to pull her face close to his, speaking with
his mouth against her cheek.
"And what do you want me to do to you most? Right this second,
Elizabeth. What do you want me to do?"
"Whip my skin. Make it bleed. Whatever you want. Hit me fifty times,
please, now, Sir!"
"All right. But I'll need you to keep count for me, Elizabeth, since
I've already lost count once. Nice and loud. Let's just start over,
shall we?"
"Yes, anything, Sir!" she whimpered, dancing from foot to foot with
her hands behind her head, making those bound, bruised tits of hers
bounce enticingly. Jazz brought the makeshift crop smashing down right
across one nipple, making her shriek in pain as it left a raised welt,
white against the black-and-blue flesh of her tit.
"One," she gasped. He brought it down across her belly next, and as
she moaned "Two" she realized it was too late: she'd lost control. The
stream of hot piss down her leg made her begin to sob - she barely
noticed the relief as her bladder emptied itself, she was so afraid of
what he might do as punishment.
"Oh, Elizabeth," he said with mock horror. "What have you done? Now
I'm going to have to punish you."
"I'm sorry, Sir," she bawled. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it, it
was an accident."
He kissed her again.
"Oh, I know, honey. But we need to make sure you don't make the same
mistake again. So I'm afraid I'll have to punish you ... after we
finish your whipping."
The girl renewed her sobbing. Somehow she'd thought for a second that
her impending punishment would exempt her from the remainder of her
whipping, but of course that wasn't the way Jazz operated. He circled
around behind her again, brought the whip down across her right ass
cheek.
"Three," Elizabeth cried.
It took him an hour or more to cover the girl's body with welts in
varying shades of white, red and purple, some of them beaded with
blood. He took his time, choosing his targets to cover her in stripes
as evenly as he could. By the time he'd finished she was hoarse from
screaming in pain as she counted each stripe. The last blow tore
across her lower belly, making it jiggle painfully as she gasped out
"Fifty."
Jazz ran his hands over her body, eliciting groans of pain as he
pressed against her welts. He hugged her to him, feeling her soft, hot
flesh against his muscular chest, rubbing his crotch against her
through his jeans, dry-humping her as he explored her wounded skin.
His cock was already beginning to twitch, but he thought he'd enjoy
the girl much more after he'd made her scream a little.
"Here's what we're gonna do," he said, grinding his cock against her
pubic bone. "I'm gonna go for a little walk, and when I come back
we'll see about that punishment of yours. Now, don't go anywhere,
okay, honey?"
"No Sir, I won't," Elizabeth said, her eyes downcast.
"Good cunt," he said, and turned to walk away into the woods.
Jazz disappeared from sight for a few minutes, down a small hill where
he knew there was a creek. He filled his canteen with water, then
collected a few choice plants from the riverside.
When he arrived back at the campsite he found his battered toy still
dangling from the tree. He set  the plants he'd collected at the base
of the tree and grabbed another length of rope from the car.
This time he bound the girl's wrists tightly together and stretched
them up over her head, tying them to the tree limb, leaving her
dangling with her toes just barely touching the ground. Next he
grabbed her feet and bound them together at the ankles, then lifted
them up to tie her legs to her wrists. She dangled like a possum, her
cunt and ass exposed, her still-bound breasts squeezed painfully
together by her upstretched arms.
Jazz grabbed a handful of dreadlocks and pulled the girl's head
backward so she was looking him in the eye - upside down, but in the
eye nonetheless.
"Have you ever seen one of these before?" he asked her. He held up one
of the plants, a dark greenish-brown weed covered in tattered leaves
that looked slightly hairy on the underside.
"No Sir," she said anxiously. She wondered if he was going to whip her
with the long, spindly plant, but it seemed he had other plans for
her.
"These are stinging nettles, Elizabeth," he told her. "I'm told that
just touching the undersides of the leaves feels like tiny needles
poking into your skin." She noticed that he'd pulled on a pair of
gloves when he went to the car, heavy leather ones like gardeners
wore, and she shivered involuntarily.
"W-where are you going to put that, Sir?" she whispered as he waved it
in front of her face.
Jazz laughed.
"Where am I going to put it? Well, everywhere, cunt. I want to hear
how loud you can scream. But I thought we'd start with those tits of
yours. I do so love a nice pair of big tits."
Elizabeth braced herself as Jazz approached with the nettles. She'd
felt thistles and thorns before: how bad could these nettles be?
Suddenly her ears were exploding with the sound of some faraway shriek
that seemed to tear through her body. It took her a minute to realize
it was the sound of her own voice. The leaves didn't just feel like
tiny needles: they felt like tiny needles injecting her tits with some
kind of acid. It was pain unlike she'd ever experienced, like her skin
was being peeled away from her body and salt poured on the exposed
tissue. She thrashed and screamed as Jazz rubbed the nettles hard
against her bound, swollen tits, then down across her belly, grinding
the leaves against her so hard they tore and crumbled.
When the plant in his hand had all but disintegrated against
Elizabeth's flesh Jazz picked up another one and began to rub it over
her exposed ass cheeks. His previous whipping had missed the area
between the girl's legs, and her cunt lips and tiny puckered asshole
were clear and unblemished as he began to rub the nettles across her
sensitive skin. She howled and struggled to free herself, dangling
upside-down and hogtied, but it was no use. Jazz covered her with the
burning, stinging plants, using them to whip her exposed pussy,
separating her cunt lips and jamming the leaves up inside her, making
her wail louder than he'd even thought possible. His cock leapt with
excitement as he rubbed the nettles into her asshole, then pulled down
the tiny hood that covered her clit and ground a leaf into that. He
thought his eardrums might burst at that point, but he couldn't
remember his cock ever having been harder.

When he'd run out of nettles he cut the girl down, handed her a bar of
soap from the back of the car.
"We're going down to the stream so you can wash up," he ordered.
"Clean yourself up real nice. When you're done I'm going to take your
ass."
Briefly she wondered what he meant by that - where, exactly, he was
going to take her - but then she remembered what he'd said about
putting his cock inside her, fucking her ass. She nodded weakly as he
gripped a handful of her hair, using it as a leash to drag her, naked
and barefoot, over the stony ground to the small creek.
The water was freezing but felt good on her still-burning skin as she
began to clean herself, rubbing away the sweat and cum from her
battered body. Jazz had removed the rope from her swollen breasts, and
she saw there were deep grooves all around them where the rope had cut
into her.
Jazz stood on the bank of the creek and watched his new toy scrubbing
herself vigorously, trying to clean away everything he'd done to her.
He smiled at the thought. He hadn't even begun to show her what he
could do.
"Does that feel good, Elizabeth?" he asked as she splashed water on
her aching, burning cunt lips.
"Yes, Master, it does."
He smiled.
"Master? I never told you to call me Master," he said.
She looked startled, not even realizing she'd said it.
"I-I'm sorry, Sir," she managed. "I didn't mean to -"
"Oh, that's all right, sweetheart." He beckoned her out of the water,
wrapped her in an old blanket and kissed her face. "I'll be your
Master if you want me to."

Elizabeth shuddered. That hadn't been what she meant - had it? It had
just slipped out.
But she had to admit, as he put his arm around her and led her back to
camp, it had felt good when he'd kissed her. She'd thought he was sexy
back in the diner, the wicked gleam in his eye as he'd flirted with
her. He'd been different from most of the horny truckers who came
through the diner - he was in command, not desperate and pathetic like
the rest of them who just wanted to fuck anything with a hole in it.
Was this what she'd read about, that Stockholm Syndrome, where people
fell in love with their kidnappers? Not a chance, she told herself.
She was just trying to please him to keep herself alive, that was all.
Not because it made her happy to please him - no, that couldn't be it
at all. So why couldn't she convince herself of that?

Jazz smiled as he ushered the girl back into the tent. He liked this
cunt; liked the way she  responded to him. She was a quick learner,
none of the dull pleading and whining he got from most of his toys.
Maybe he'd keep her when all this was over, make her his pet. He
thought of her curled at the foot of his bed, a chain around her neck,
walking around the house and having her heel to his bone ... it was an
intriguing thought.
In the tent he put her on her knees, probing two fingers deep into her
still-soapy anus.
"Elizabeth," he said softly as he lined his cock up with her hole,
pulling his fingers out and replacing them with the head of his cock.
"Yes Master?" she replied. Master again. She wondered why it didn't
bother her to say that.
"Do you want me to fuck your ass?"
"Yes Sir. I want your cock in me." And she did, somehow, after all
he'd done to her. "Please put your cock in my ass."
Jazz gave her an open-handed spank.
"It's not your ass," he told her. "It's my ass. I told you, I'm taking
it, and when I'm finished, it won't be yours anymore. Do you
understand that?"
"Yes, Master."
"Say it, then, cunt."
"After you fuck my asshole," she said, trying to half-turn to look at
him, "it'll be your asshole. Just like you took my cunt yesterday and
now it's yours."
"Is it, Elizabeth?" he said, putting his fingers there now. "Is it my
cunt?"
She felt a shudder go through her body as he spread his fingers wide,
stretching the walls of her cunt, making her lubricate. She remembered
the feeling of being bound tightly, feeling Jazz bottoming out in her
cunt, like he was cutting out her insides with the head of his cock.
"Yes, Master, it's your cunt," she said, pushing back against him a
little. Part of her was appalled - here she was, trying to bring her
rapist deeper inside her, pledging her holes to him. But she wanted
him, there was no denying it. He pulled his fingers out of her cunt
and gripped her hips with both hands, thrusting his cock inside her to
the hilt. Elizabeth gasped, dizzy with the feeling of Jazz's cock
penetrating deep into her. It didn't hurt as much as she'd thought it
would - it wasn't exactly pleasurable, more like she had to take a
shit. But as he began to pump it back and forth she felt a strange
welling inside her, like she was ready to burst.
"P-lease, Master -" she grunted as every thrust made her belly and
tits shake wildly. "Please, I need to -"
"What do you need - uh! - cunt?" he replied, thrusting savagely into
her bowels.
"Ow! Oh, ow, Master, I need to cum," she said anxiously.
Jazz started at that. He laughed, thrusting harder. He didn't hear
that very often from his toys.
"You need to cum?" he echoed incredulously.
"Y-es, M-m-master," Elizabeth moaned. "P-please, can I?"
He looked down at the girl, who was trying to balance her weight on
one arm while she reached back to rub her clitoris with the other
hand. She wasn't having much success, though, as the fierce regularity
of Jazz's fucking made it difficult to support herself.
"Get your hand out of your cunt, you fucking slut," he barked. The
girl obeyed, reluctantly, whimpering with frustration.
After a few minutes more Jazz felt his balls tightening and knew he
wasn't going to last much longer. He leaned forward, putting most of
his weight on the girl's shoulders and reaching under her to grip her
tortured tits in his hands. He squeezed hard, twisting them as he
fucked her harder. She let out a screech of pain and Jazz felt her ass
muscles contract instinctively, squeezing his cock so hard he thought
she might pop it off at the root. He threw his head back and sprayed
his cum deep inside her bowels, groaning with satisfaction as he
emptied himself into her.
Jazz collapsed on top of the girl, his softening cock sliding out of
her asshole. She moaned as his nearly three-hundred-pound frame all
but crushed her. He rested for a minute before rolling off her and
spreading his legs wide.
"Clean my cock, Elizabeth," he told her. "Clean it good and maybe I'll
let you cum."
"Yes Master."
She knelt between his thighs and set to work licking the shit-laced
cum from his soft cock. Just as he'd thought earlier, her dreadlocks
made wonderful handles for guiding her head as she slurped and suckled
at his sticky meat.
When he was satisfied she'd cleaned his shaft well, he used her hair
to tilt her face toward him.
"Take it in your mouth," he told her. "Just take it and hold it
there."
Elizabeth nodded and did as she was told. Even flaccid, Jazz's cock
was a mouthful, and she let the warm, soft mass rest on her tongue as
she turned her dark blue eyes upward to look into his steely grey
ones.
"Elizabeth, did it turn you on when I fucked you in the ass?" he asked
her, his voice low, hypnotic. The girl nodded, yes.
"Do you still want to cum?" he asked.
Another nod.
Jazz stroked her cheeks with his thumbs as he continued to grip her
hair at the sides of her head. He looked thoughtful.
"Elizabeth, do you want me to let you go?" he said.
She considered that for a minute, what he'd meant. He interpreted her
puzzlement and laughed.
"I'm not going to kill you," he told her. "Whatever happens, I'm not
going to kill you. But I'm asking, does it turn you on, the way I use
you?"
She hesitated for just a moment before nodding again. It terrified
her, true. Humiliated, frustrated, hurt her terribly. But beyond all
that, there was something deep inside her that needed someone to treat
her that way.
She felt Jazz's cock twitch lightly in her mouth at that. Her neck was
arched uncomfortably as he held her head so she had to look him in the
eye. Having Jazz's warm, salty flesh just sitting in her mouth was
making her salivate, and she didn't dare swallow without his
permission. Consequently she could feel herself beginning to drool a
little, beads of saliva gathering at the corners of her open mouth.
Jazz let go of her hair but Elizabeth didn't dare move her head. He
reached down to cup her sore, swollen breasts.
"I'd like to keep you," he said. "Make you my slut. Would you like
that, Elizabeth?"
She hesitated, blinking back tears of confusion and fear, then nodded
again, ever so slightly.
"Good girl." He squeezed her tits firmly, enough to make a tear escape
from the corner of the girl's eye and wend its way down her cheek.
"I'd like to breed you, cunt. Fill your tits up with milk and keep
them that way. You'd be my milk cow. Would you like that, Elizabeth?"
Her lower lip trembled as she nodded again, quicker this time.
"Good." He gave her tits a twist, one clockwise, one counterclockwise.
She let out a squeak of pain. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and
used her tits to pull her to her knees. He looked her deep in the
eyes. "Elizabeth, is this really what you want?"
She began to cry, overwhelmed with the magnitude of what she was
giving away.
"Yes, Master, it is. I want you to own me. I need it."
"Why? Why do you need it?"
"Because it just feels RIGHT," she told him. "It's what I am, a pain
slut. I want you to use me and hurt me ..."
"And you want me to let you cum," he said with a smile.
"Yes, Master, please ... I need to cum so bad. Please, would you make
me cum?"
Jazz laughed. He unlaced one of his heavy black boots and pulled it
off, handing it to the bruised and beaten girl.
"Use that to jerk yourself off," he told her. "If I'm gonna make you
cum you're gonna have to earn it."
Sobbing again, this time from sheer sensory overload, Elizabeth lay on
her back squeezing the sole of Jazz's enormous boot between her thighs
so that it pressed against her cunt, flattening it. She slid her hand
between the hard leather sole and her dripping snatch, frigging her
clit with the tip of her middle finger as she moaned with pleasure.
Jazz sat back and watched as she began to moan and buck her hips with
orgasm. Yes, this was going to be an interesting experience, having a
slut who actually wanted to be had by him.

In the end Jazz decided the best course of action was to keep his new
pet at her own apartment. It was nice, he reasoned, to have her at his
disposal whenever he wanted, but it would be easier to keep it on his
terms if he allowed her to have some semblance of a life.
He left her where he'd found her at midnight a few days later, in the
parking lot of the diner where she worked. He kept her keys, though,
and took her driver's license so he'd know where to find her.
Jazz watched her limp across the parking lot to her car, still sore
from his treatment of her. He smiled and nodded goodbye to her as she
got in and turned over the engine.
"I'll be seeing you soon," he said to himself as he drove away.

(End of Part Nine)

Thanks to everyone who's written in so far with suggestions for Jazz's
further adventures. I'm still having fun writing this series so I'd
love to hear from anyone with ideas for future segments or comments on
past ones. Drop me a line 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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