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From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry Guy)
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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} JUSTICE FOR ALL {Hungry Guy} (M/FFF M/M Mpov Mdom Fsub Msub het gay nc ws copr tort viol humil cbt eunich piv caution)
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Date: Fri, 29 Feb 2008 00:10:03 -0500
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{ASS} JUSTICE FOR ALL {Hungry Guy} (M/FFF M/M Mpov Mdom Fsub Msub het 
gay nc ws copr tort viol humil cbt eunich piv caution)

By Hungry Guy

************
* PROLOGUE *
************

    Five years earlier, Mindy had won the national Powerball lottery.  
With her newfound millions, she and Guy had purchased an old dairy farm 
out in rural western Pennsylvania.  

    Mindy had disappeared from her family when she left to work 
together with Guy on their mutual fantasy, leaving no trace whatsoever.    

    They renovated the farmhouse, but it was the barn that they were 
truly interested in.  Its 50 feet by 100 feet footprint was bigger than 
the lot in New Jersey that Guy's last house was built on.  It stood 30 
feet to the base of its gabled roof, then another 20 feet to the peak.  
The ground level, which opened to a paddock on one side, they converted 
to a dungeon, slave quarters, garage, and utility mechanical rooms.  
The first floor, which was ground level to the front of the barn facing 
the homestead, and above, they converted to a luxurious home.

    When the renovations were complete, and the sub-contractors all 
gone their separate ways, they had a lavish goodbye party for Mindy, 
just the two of them.

*******************
* JUSTICE FOR ALL *
*******************

    Guy woke with a yawn and stepped out of his king-size bed.  The 
plush carpeting felt so good under his feet.  He walked across the room 
and tapped the switch that opened the heavy room-darkening curtains, 
revealing a panoramic window that overlooked the unspoiled countryside 
from the third floor.  Not another house was in sight.  His nearest 
neighbor was two miles away.

    He glanced down at what appeared to be a small table covered by 
about four heavy blankets in the corner of the room.  Lifting the end 
of the blankets up, he took in the view of the attractive naked woman 
within, lying on even more blankets, all scrunched up into a fetal 
position inside the tiny pet cage.  

    "Good morning, Fuschia," he said cheerfully.

    "Good morning, Master," she answered in a slight British accent.

    "Were you warm enough last night, Fuschia?  I know I keep my 
bedroom chilly at night.  I can give you more blankets if you'd like."

    "I'm fine, Master.  If anything, it got too warm during the night.  
You can take some off."

    Guy removed one of the blankets draped over the cage and folded it 
up and put it away.  He then saw that her water bottle, hanging from 
the cage, was empty.  He removed it and unscrewed the cap.  Having just 
risen, he had a pretty full bladder, so he inserted his dick into the 
bottle and filled it.  He then screwed the cap back on the bottle and 
placed it back in the bracket holding it in place on the side of the 
cage, with the metal tube extending downward from the cap and into the 
cage.  

    "Drink it while it's still warm, Fuschia," he said.

    "Thank you, Master," said Fuschia as she put her mouth to the tube 
and began drinking the yellow liquid within.

    Despite the 100 degree August heat wave outside, his air 
conditioning kept his bedroom at a chilly 65 degrees, Guy's ideal 
sleeping temperature.

    He stepped into his master bathroom where the independent 
temperature control kept the bathroom at a warm 75 degrees for showers 
and baths.  He used the toilet before taking his morning shower.  As he 
flushed, it simultaneously saddened him and thrilled him to know how 
his waste was "processed" by his custom-built waste treatment system.

    After his long hot shower, which he could run indefinitely due to 
the tankless on-demand water heater feeding the shower stall, he made 
his way to his private study which, like most of the rest of the house, 
he kept at a comfortable 70 degrees.  

    He turned on his computer, which was connected to a high-capacity 
trunk line of the type that most Internet providers would split up and 
use to sell broadband connections to customers.  

    His latest story was getting poor scores on Literotica and Stories 
Online, but hard-core BDSM stories rarely fared well on either of those 
two sites.  Yet, the story had earned respectable hits per the ASSTR 
download count where his fan base was mostly concentrated.  And he had 
even received some positive feedback from fans, mostly submissive women 
with secret rape and humiliation fantasies.  

    Checking his email, a new woman answered his personal ad to be his 
cum sponge.  He answered her, knowing that 99 out of 100 such replies 
were from wanks or trolls who would never reply again.  At that, he 
felt a twang of sadness that he'd never again correspond with Mindy.  
The few years that he and Mindy spent living together as master and 
slave while building this house were among the happiest of his life, 
and he missed her.  Mindy had turned into a good friend and confidant 
back when Kathy, his love of a lifetime, broke up with him because she 
found a rich sleazy doctor to be her sugar daddy. 

    "Hmmm," he thought.  "Kathy and her ilk must all be hungry by 
now."  

    Guy walked out into the main hallway.  The four doors to each of 
the four master bedroom suites opened into this hallway.  An open 
stairwell led down to the second floor.  But feeling lazy, Guy took the 
elevator down to the first floor.  In the kitchen, filled with 
stainless steel appliances, he toasted a bagel and heated some pre-
cooked bacon, and made a sandwich.  A glass of orange juice completed 
his breakfast, which he carried into the home theater where he watched 
an old episode of Star Trek on the LCD television that filled the whole 
wall.

    Then, crossing over into the recreation center, he dove into the 
heated indoor pool that he kept bathtub-warm.  After swimming a few 
laps, he soaked in the Jacuzzi for a while, letting the high-pressure 
jets massage his body all over, then he took another shower to rinse 
the chlorine off. 

    By noon, he was relaxed and in the mood for some real fun.  He took 
the elevator down to the ground floor and down a short hallway.  
Passing a plate glass window that presented him with a view of his 
garage.  His Bentley, Rolls Royce, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Porsche, 
Cadillac, and Hummer were all as he had left them.  Oddly, mixed in was 
a dark grayish-blue 2005 Chrysler Town & Country minivan with a gash 
down the passenger side and one flat tire.  Another oddity was a little 
yellow 1973 Volkswagen Beetle, his very first car, that held a special 
place in his heart.  Lacking air conditioning, and with persnickety 
heat, it was drivable only in the spring and fall.  Yet he recalled his 
college days at O.C.C.C. during one particular blizzard after classes.  
All the other guys in their Camaros and Barracudas and Mustangs were 
spinning their wheels stuck at odd angles along the driveway to the 
student parking lot behind the Student Commons.  His little bug zig-
zagged through the maze of muscle cars onto South Street with ease.  A 
moment later, he was on Dolson Avenue, passing Playtogs, and heading 
home.  

    Opening the gray steel door at the end of the corridor, he stepped 
into the utility room.  The triple redundant air-conditioning systems, 
each one alone capable of maintaining the whole house at a comfortable 
temperature, hummed and whooshed in their vigilance.  The vents along 
the top of the units glowed an eerie blue, indicating that the UV-C 
filtration system was keeping the air free of mold, fungus, and 
bacteria.  He took in a deep breath of the pure clean air that his home 
provided him.

    One of his twin 100-gallon water heaters was gurgling and pinging, 
showing its age.  He glanced at its service record and figured that it 
might be getting on the time to replace it.  But no hurry yet.  The 
many multiple redundancies that he and Mindy had built into this house 
gave him a sense of confidence and trust.

    He stepped over and leaned on one of the two standby power 
generators, one powered by the town gas utility, and the other by a 
fuel oil tank out back.  In a fit of whimsy, he grabbed the EXO switch 
and killed the power to his home from the electric utility--a full-
blown blackout.  The lights never even flickered.  The one generator 
sprang to life.  He walked over and shut off the master gas valve, 
killing the generator.  The oil generator sprang to life, again without 
even a flicker of the lights, thanks to the bank of batteries against 
one wall.

    Lastly, he stepped over to a large 6-foot tank lying on its side 
about 4 feet above the floor.  A drainpipe from all the toilets in the 
house merged above this tank and fed into it from above.  The pipe 
exiting from under the tank connected to the main house drain and 
exited the house to the leach fields out back.  A digital display 
attached to one of the legs on which the tank was mounted glowed in 
orange numerals: OXYGEN 98%, PULSE 52.  Guy smiled sadly.  The pulse 
oxymeter strapped to Mindy's finger showed that she was still alive 
after 5 years of living entirely off of his waste.  The three aquarium 
air pumps hummed quietly, pumping air through three clear rubber 
aquarium air tubes into an open pipe end and into the tank, giving 
Mindy a constant supply of fresh air.  He tested the three spares that 
he kept on an adjacent shelf, and they all worked well.

    He knew, objectively, that solid waste contains about 25% nutrients 
and that urine was sterile upon leaving the human body.  As long as he 
never flushes caustic cleaning chemicals down any of the toilets, there 
was no reason that Mindy shouldn't live a normal full human life span.

    Guy pictured Mindy in his mind, lying flat on her back on a metal 
plate welded inside the tank.  Her wrists and ankles strapped tightly 
in place by metal straps welded to that same plate.  The drainpipe 
entering from above ended inside her mouth with a strap around her head 
to prevent her from pulling her head away and removing the pipe from 
her mouth.  The pipe had a small hole just above her face, covered in 
screen, to allow excess liquid that she couldn't swallow fast enough to 
spill out into the tank without drowning her, but forcing her to 
consume all solids--for she could breathe only when that pipe was 
empty.  

    But try as he might, he just couldn't imagine what it must be like 
for her lying there in the dark, hour after hour, day after day, week 
after week, month after month, year after year, subsisting by consuming 
the sewage that flooded her mouth whenever he flushed a toilet.  After 
five years totally immobile in absolute darkness, all her muscles must 
have atrophied, as must have her eyes. 

    He left the utility room back into the corridor and opened a door 
into a storage room.  Shelves filled the room, piled high with all 
sorts of clutter that one accumulates from the task of living a life: 
boxes of old family photos, cherished childhood toys, HO-scale trains 
for a model railroad empire that he never got around to building, 
clothing that's still in good condition but no longer fashionable, 
etc., etc.  

    Pressing the combination on the lock on a door at the far end of 
the room, he entered a smaller storage room with even more clutter 
filling the shelves.  

    Then, pressing the combination on another lock on another door at 
the far end of this second storage room, he entered foyer-type room 
painted all black.  Opening another door in a perpendicular wall, he 
stepped into his dungeon and surveyed the scene.

    Over the past few months, he had watched the news carefully for 
reports of missing people from the Cleveland area.  Of the keywords 
that he checked for, the only minor news item that he came across was 
the city of Westlake seeking a new Financial Director.

    Anne was standing with her head clamped into the end of a long 
metal arm mounted on a pivot such that she could walk around in a large 
circle.  She looked like she had lost about 100 pounds since becoming 
his slave.  After another 100, she might start looking like an 
attractive woman.  Guy really felt no ill will toward Anne, for she was 
Mangla's victim as much as Guy was.  But each time Guy had gone to 
Westlake to capture Mangla, Anne was with him.  Such was her 
misfortune, for Mangla had to face justice for stealing his love of a 
lifetime.  Yet, Guy didn't feel all that bad for Anne either; after 
all, she had been in league with Mangla.

    Guy clapped his hands.  "Wake up, Annie!"

    Anne gasped awake as Guy hit the switch to start the motor; the 
pivot started to turn, forcing Anne to begin her daily exercise regimen 
of jogging in a continuous circle.  If she faltered, the arm would just 
drag her by the neck until she caught up again.

    Doctor Pawan Mangla was lying on the floor with Aaron Mizen.  The 
two men were naked and harnessed together with the most bizarre looking 
assembly of leather straps, rings, and buckles.  The two men were 
lying, each with the other's penis in their mouths in 69 fashion.  
Also, their arms were each wrapped around the other's body and shackled 
together.  

    At that moment, Paul began to spasm rhythmically while Aaron 
suddenly began to struggle and try to pull away.  A moment later, cum 
began to ooze from Aaron's mouth around Paul's cock.  "Enjoy your meal, 
skinny faggot," said Guy to Aaron.  While Paul enjoyed his orgasm, Guy 
walked over to the utility closet and fetched his pooper-scooper, for 
every morning there was a small pile of excrement on the floor behind 
each of the two men's asses.  Small puddles of urine also occupied the 
floor under each man's mouth.

    After mopping the floor around the two men, Guy got a cloth and a 
spray can of ether.  Spraying the cloth with the ether, he held the 
cloth to both Aaron and Paul until both were asleep.  Working quickly, 
he manhandled Paul's limp body upon a stretcher and shackled and belted 
him down securely.  

    Walking over to the cell that housed Paul's friend, and Kathy's 
subsequent boyfriend, Mohammed, Guy then knocked Mohammed out.  A short 
while later, Mohammed and Aaron were harnessed together sucking each 
other's cocks just as Paul and Aaron were earlier.

    Guy then prepared for surgery.  Wheeling Paul into an impromptu 
operating room, he removed an assortment of scalpels, clamps, and other 
medical paraphernalia from his autoclave.  But Guy wanted his patient 
to be awake and alert during the surgery, so he then walked over to the 
cellblock.  

    Angela sat on her bunk in her cell.  Guy had no bitterness for 
Angela either; she was to Aaron what Annie was to Paul: a semi-innocent 
co-conspirator.  Angela looked up at Guy then looked away.  

    In the next cell, Kathy was shackled spread-eagle to the wall of 
her cell.  She was a very attractive woman, with a cute face and 
strawberry blonde hair set in a ponytail.  Her only blemishes were a 
mangled tattoo above and to the side of her muff, and a hysterectomy 
scar that ran up from her crotch to her navel.

    Guy opened the autoclave and removed some darts.  "Hey slut!" he 
called out.  "Wake up!"

    Kathy gasped as he let the dart fly.  It struck her in the belly, 
for 1 point, evoking a curdling scream from Kathy's mouth and sending a 
trickle of blood flow down her belly, and down her leg.   

    The next dart hit her in the right breast, evoking another scream, 
though it missed her areola, scoring 10 points.  

    The third dart scored a bulls-eye, right in her left nipple, 
scoring 100 points.  Instead of screaming this time, Kathy turned white 
and fainted. 

    "Hmm," he mused. "111 points.  Not bad."  He jotted the score down 
in his log and then returned to his patient awaiting his operation.

    "How are you feeling, Paul?" asked Guy.

    "Fuck you, you bastard!" coughed Mangla in a slight Indian accent.

    "Nope!  You're never going to drug up and fuck someone else's 
girlfriend ever again, motherfucker!  But hey, if it makes you feel any 
better, I'm not Board Certified either."  Guy laughed and pulled on a 
pair of latex gloves.  Guy then wheeled another autoclave up to Mangla 
and began the operation.  A half-hour later, Paul's crotch was covered 
with gauze bandages where his penis and testicles used to be.  Guy had 
inserted a catheter into Paul's urethra so that the patient could 
urinate while he healed.

    Guy then paused in thought and considered what to feed his slaves 
today.

    Although Guy sometimes fed his waste to Kathy, Mangla, Aaron, or 
even Anne or Angela, he had to remember to use the toilets often enough 
so that Mindy wouldn't die of malnutrition.  So today, he walked over 
to the stove in the alcove and boiled a large quantity of soup.  

    When the soup was ready, he added some salt and pepper for flavor 
(Guy wasn't totally without compassion for his slaves) and poured some 
into several IV looking devices with tubes hanging from underneath 
them.  

    He took one and hung it from a hook in the ceiling above Kathy, and 
then inserted the tube into her mouth.  She began sucking the soup as 
if drinking from a straw.  

    He did the same for Mangla, still lying on the operating table.  

    Then he did the same for Aaron and Mohammed, sliding the tubes into 
each man's mouth along with the other man's penis.

    Then he stopped the pivot from spinning and forcing Anne to walk in 
her endless circles.  He attached her soup IP bag to a hook against the 
outer wall of her walkway.   

    He simply slid a bowl of soup through the door to Angela's cell.

    With the slaves fed, he tapped the combination on the door exiting 
the dungeon into that black foyer room, then passed back through the 
storage rooms, back into the basement hallway.  

    He returned to the utility room and glanced at Mindy's stats once 
again: OXYGEN 98%, PULSE 53.  She must be digesting that toilet flush 
from this morning.  He flipped the EXO switch back on, and turned the 
gas back on, letting the generators shut off automatically.   

    He rode the elevator back up to the third floor and into his master 
bedroom suite.  He was feeling horny by then, so he walked up to 
Fuschia's cage.  "Feel like coming out to play, Fuschia?"

    "Yes, Master!  I'm so randy right now!"

    Guy laughed.  "You always are, sweet Fuschia!"

    Guy unlocked the cage and brought her into bed.  He tied one of 
each of four lengths of rope to each of her wrists and ankles, then 
tied her spread-eagle to his brass bed frame, stretching her arms and 
legs out tightly.

    "Oh, Master!" she gasped as he mounted her once again with still 
one more rope in his hand.  "What will you do with that one?"

    Guy wrapped the rope around her neck and pulled it tightly, cutting 
off her air.  He tied it in a neat bow as he met Fuschia's panic-
stricken gaze.  With a smile, he crawled down her body between her legs 
and ever so gently licked along the seam between her labia without 
parting it with his tongue.

    Her body quivered slightly to his oral touch, though she remained 
in choked silence.  Pressing his tongue against the seam with slightly 
more pressure, he parted her labia with his tongue and licked slowly up 
over the opening of her vagina to her clitoris and back down again.

    Normally, he would delight in lingering and teasing a woman in this 
way, but knowing that he had to bring her off quickly before she 
suffocated, he moved straight away to her clit and sucked the little 
nub into his mouth.

    Holding it deep in his mouth with the suction of his breath, he 
licked and flicked the tiny top with his tongue, drinking tiny wisps of 
her juices at the same time.

    Then, sucking on it like a lollipop, he drew it in and out, and in 
and out, bringing her ever closer to climax.  

    It seemed odd to Guy for a woman to be so utterly silent at such a 
time, which only reminded him of the need to act quickly.

    He sucked in and out with greater vigor until, at last, she began 
bucking with every twitch of his mouth.  What a rush to be in direct 
control over a woman's orgasm this way!  To be able to play her clit 
like a trumpet!  

    Mindful of the time, he stopped and climbed up her body.  Her 
complexion had a tinge of blue, and her eyes were glazed over and 
failed to focus while she rolled her head from side to side.

    Guy quickly untied the rope.  Fuschia immediately began sputtering 
and coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

    The danger over, Guy lay upon her and slid his hungry member into 
her where he had just made her conveniently sopping wet for him to do 
so.  

    The combined wetness of his saliva and her own feminine juices made 
for an amply slippery entry, and he slid into her easily.  Sucking on 
her genitals had already brought him close to his own climax, so he 
exploded inside her with little effort.  

    At that, the day's exhaustion took over, and he fell to sleep upon 
her.  

**************
* POSTSCRIPT *
**************

Here's a riddle for you:

Q.  How do you know when Kathy is lying?

A.  Her lips are moving.

Here's another:

Q.  How do you know when Kathy is cheating on you?

A.  She's not with you at the moment.

And here's another:

Q.  How many boyfriends does Kathy have?

A.  You can get that number from the US Census Bureau.  It 
    increases by a few hundred every minute.

    * END *

-- 
Hungry Guy
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/HungryGuy/www
http://storiesonline.net/library/author.php?name=Hungry_Guy
http://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=171541
http://www.bewilderingstories.com/bios/hungryguy_bio.html
http://www.ruthiesclub.com/members/archives/author.php?a=167

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