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From: piotor <norton@olypen.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage.stories
Subject: The Vampires Tale Chapter 1 (Finish) BDSM,Hair, Bondage, Rough.
Date: Wed, 27 Oct 2010 14:16:57 -0700
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===================
Occasionally I would find a girl who did not resist me very much. It
seems that peasant girls are used to enduring a hard physical life so
the demands I put on them did not seem so bizarre. When a girl became
compliant and spent most of her time pleasing me it was inevitable
that I became affectionate toward her. At first this led to my
falling in love with them.
But as time went by I remained the same but they became older
and more wrinkled. Their limbs did not bend as easily and they became
fat and featureless. I could not pretend to find them sexually
attractive anymore and I certainly could not send them on their merry
way after years of draining their blood and using them for my sexual
pleasure.
There was a solution which I was reluctant to use. If my weak blood
was introduced to their bloodstream it would change their blood into
my kind of blood which deteriorated. They would become a vampire like
me but without the skill to acquire more fresh blood for themselves. I
tried this method but after several weeks of suffering I could not
bear seeing such pain in one who had pleasured me. I assisted her to
the peaceful end which I could never have. But selfishly I would have
another young, beautiful long haired girl already restrained or picked
out for my use.
Inevitably I could not stay in one locale forever. Eventually people
would notice that young, beautiful girls with long hair were wont to
disappear, never to be seen again. When mutterings increased I would
sell any holdings and move on to a distant place. Over time my
investment skills increased and I became quite well off so packing up
was not such a trial. I tried to pick a home which was comfortable
and enjoyed a large piece of land which I could sharecrop or use to
raise cattle and horses for profit. The sharecroppers didn't come
close to my house so I enjoyed sustainable privacy.
As time passed but I did not become older my methods of seeking
pleasure from my consorts became more sophisticated and complex. I
did not want to stress them and make them susceptible to illness so I
throttled
my enjoyment of stressing them as a means of pleasure. I found
pleasure in the smoothness of their skin and the gentle curves of
their youthful bodies. I find the body of a youthful girl lovely and
avoided marking it in any way except what was absolutely necessary.
Girls in their teen years were best because they were naive and I
could train them in fulfilling my desires.
Some experimenting in methods were successful, some not. I tried
several different styles of furniture and had the means to bring in
craftsmen to build this furniture to my specification. One of my most
elaborate devices was a thing of beauty. The first one needed some
modifications so I destroyed it in the fireplace and built a second
which worked very well indeed.
From the right end it began with a wide padded platform at waist
height. Continuing to the left was a beam half a hand width wide and
set vertically. This went to a sliding slim pad at the end. It was
supported with two pairs of legs at each end shaped like an upside
down V. The girl I had chosen would lie down on it with her hips
supported by the rightmost pad. Her breasts would hang on either side
of the center beam and her shoulders or head would rest on the
leftmost pad, depending on where I slid it.
Leather straps secured her arms and legs to the legs of my bench. This
left her anus, pussy and mouth all reachable and open to me.
One girl was particularly resistant to my persuasions so I added some
vertical posts to the extreme outer end of the shoulder supports. I
had these posts drilled with holes big enough to accommodate locks of
her hair. By combing out sections of her hair and pushing them through
the holes I could secure them with cords on the other side and then
pull down and secure the cords to one of the lower holes. There were
twelve holes in each of the poles and by the time I had pulled four to
six locks of her hair through the holes and put tension on them she
was screaming and blubbering in pain. However, I continued to pull
locks of her long blond hair through the holes and secure them tightly
with cords. She looked quite beautiful with her hair in a sunburst
flowing away from her head.
By the time her entire mane of hair was threaded through the poles she
was gibbering like a monkey and begging for mercy while making all
sorts of extravagant promises including some I had never thought of. I
sat on a
chair and listened to her while my lust for her was increasing by the
minute. I didn't bother securing any agreement from her. I knew if
she didn't strain to please me from now on just the threat of the "
hair bench" would have her staring at me with wide open eyes looking
for any sign of how to please me.
This device also made milking her very easy. Her breasts hung down on
either side of the central beam. Borrowing from a corsets design I
had hooks and rings screwed into the central beam in the pattern of
two rows beside each breast. By stringing a tough cord through the
rings and gradually pulling them tighter and tighter I could squeeze
the breasts until her cries and pleadings told me it was taut enough.
Then when they began to darken I pushed a large hollow needle into a
vein. The blood would then drip out and be caught in jars or bowls
placed beneath them. This collected blood had to be ingested very
quickly before it went bad so I had to milk her roughly once a month.
Unfortunately draining blood made her weak and tired so I couldn't put
any additional strain on her for at least a day. I just left her
there secured to the bench until she had recuperated enough to be
unstrapped. Afterwards I fed her some bland bread and cheese and
allowed her to drink as much water as she pleased from a long straw in
a jar.
I found that right after drinking fresh blood I became easily aroused.
While she was still strapped down and finished being milked I
sometimes enjoyed having anal sex with her. I was thoughtful and
always lubricated
her anus after first giving her an enema to assure a clean organ. I
lubricated my penis and found it best to simply rest my erect penis in
the crack of her ass, slowly pulling her ass cheeks apart and then
letting them embrace my cock. By pressing inwards on her buttocks my
cock would naturally seek out her anal opening. Eventually it would
slip in and I would hold just the head inside her until her muscles
relaxed. She was in such a perfect position I didn't have to hurry
and could spend a luxurious time very slowly pushing and pulling in
and out until such a time that I found myself buried deep in her
bowels. It hurt her and I found that her little whinnys of pain and
moans excited me so that my cock became even more rigid while inside
her.
I was amazed to find that sometimes these girls would find pleasure
and sexual arousal from the tight bondage and sometimes pain I
inflicted on them. Not all of them. Some merely acquiesced to avoid
the punishment and torture. But several found they looked forward to
it.
I fondly remember one girl who was mine around the 1820s would stick
her tongue out at me and refuse my orders with a smile on her face and
a coquettish giggle. She knew what that would bring and sought ways
to bring about a painful session but not enough to anger me. For her
I thought long and hard to prepare torture that would bring her pain
but leave no permanent marks, either physically or emotionally. A
predictable caning or hair stretching didn't seem appropriate for her.
To get my creative juices flowing I tied her to a chair and gagged her
while I sat at my desk and studied her. Gradually a fiendish idea
began to gain form in my mind. First I held a stiff piece of paper
under her breasts and drew their outline on it. Next I took some
measurements of her chest width and breast thickness and wrote them in
the appropriate places on my partial drawing. I spent the rest of the
night staring at her and elaborating on my drawing until when the
cocks began crowing I was satisfied. My excitement rose as I pictured
my imaginary device used on her. I couldn't wait so I tied her face
down on the bed after allowing her to go to the bathroom and eat a
light breakfast. Her gently curving back ending at her round buttocks
was such a pretty picture I had to tear myself away and on to my task.
I drove my buggy to the best carpenter I knew and asked if he could
produce the device on my drawing. He said it would be ready in a few
days. I instructed him to round all the edges and make it from oak. I
then rode to the hardware store and bought some pieces to fabricate a
cider press. I told the clerk I needed to repair mine which was
damaged.
After a few days I retrieved my device from the carpenter and paid him
including a generous tip. I wanted him to be ready and willing to
produce anything else I might require of him. Upon arriving at my
home I assembled all the parts together and was quite pleased with the
result. It was now composed of two pieces wide enough to span my
consorts chest and curved to fit above and below her ample breasts.
At each end was a threaded hole with a metal screw passing through the
top piece and securely attached to the bottom piece. Finishing it was
two handles threaded onto each metal screw.
Now it was time to try it out. I brought her to my study and tied her
hands above her head to a door. I then threw the rope over the open
door and tied it to the knob on the opposite side. That made me
realize I lacked a convenient was of stretching her upright. Fitting
the upper and lower bars of my new device above and below her breasts
I spun the threaded handles down until they reached the top of the
upper one. I turned each handle a few turns alternately and was
overjoyed to watch her breasts being slowly squeezed between them.
Thanks to the curving style her breasts were not flattened very much
but were rather forced into near perfect globes. She began whining
and squirming so I learned just how tight I could force them without
causing damage. I was overjoyed at the beautiful picture she made,
enhanced slightly by her squirming and the sounds she was making. At
this time I decided to have sex with her while her breasts were shaped
to my liking. I untied her wrist rope from the doorknob and bending
her over double, tied the rope around her ankles so her squished
breasts hung down.
This seemed to cause her more pain as the sounds of her grunts became
louder. Her long hair hung to the floor and hid her face so I
gathered it into a thick handful and pulled it to the other side of
her head. Highly aroused I inserted myself into her and enjoyed
pushing harder and harder until with a cry I finished.
Thoughtfully I then untied the rope from her ankles and allowed her to
stand up. She begged me to remove the breast squeezer as it was
causing her much pain. I removed it and congratulated myself on
building a successful tool
Using her long hair was most effective in persuading her to perform to
my satisfaction. Toward this end I built some implements to assist me
when dealing with a new girl who was very resistant. A machine I
enjoyed building in my own carpentry studio was called the "push pull
wheel". The main mechanism was a large, heavy wheel mounted on an
axle which held it at about waist level.
The girl would be tied hand and foot and secured to a low table face
down. I then took all her hair above her ears and pulled on it until
I could tie a cord securely to it. I then tied the rope to a spoke of
the wagon wheel. By turning the wheel it would pull on her hair and
force her head to bob up and down. I could vary how much her head
moved by where I secured the cord to the spoke, either nearer or
further from the axle. When I had it adjusted to my liking I could
sit on the floor and turn the wagon wheel by hand. Since it was quite
heavy it only required periodic pushes to maintain its spin.
Her head was now bobbing up and down at the same level as my cock
which was rigid with anticipation. I slid forward on the floor until
her mouth was around me and then gave the wheel a push. Up and down
her head went which afforded me much pleasure. If she had been
disagreeable, half an hour to an hour under the control of the wagon
wheel taught her that her mouth and her hair were owned by me and I
could do anything I wanted with them. After a sufficient length of
time attached to the wheel I could look into her eyes and tell she had
no will left. Between her mouth being forced to slide first up and
then down continually on my cock and the action on her hair of first
pulling it and then relaxing it she became quite submissive. Even
after untying her from the table she would only stand there with her
head down, dully awaiting any further instructions from me.
The strongest willed girl would become compliant and obedient after
half a dozen sessions with the push pull wheel."
The wheel also had another function in its array of tricks. The axle
protruded from one side about a foot. I wrapped this axle in parallel
strips of rawhide to increase its gripping power. I then wrapped a
thin slat with glove leather. The slat was the same length as the
axle.
I would first tie the girls hands behind her back with additional
ropes wrapping her ankles and upper legs. I laid her face down with
her head directly under the wheel. I combed out her hair and draped
it over the axle and laid the leather wrapped slat over it. Using a
comb I made sure her hair covered the entire length of the axle. I
secured the slat tightly with short pieces of cord so her hair now
rose from her head to the axle in a wide fan. By turning the wheel I
could pull her hair upward until part of her body hung from it. A
rope tied from the base to a spoke held the wheel in place. How long
I left her there hanging by her hair depended on what it took to
correct her attitude. If left for a period of time I would
occasionally rotate the wheel a spoke at the time thus putting more
and more strain on her hair. It was amusing to leave the room for a
time and then when I came back give the wheel a small turn.
When she saw me coming she knew her torment was going to increase and
the blubbering and tears increased. When I was satisfied she had
learned her lesson I unwound her flowing hair from the axle and was
pleased to discover it had acquired a curl at the ends. Before I
released her I would listen to her begging and pleading until I was
certain she meant it. When I slowly unwrapped her hair and lowered
her to the floor her gratitude knew no bounds and I could instruct her
in exactly how she should suck on my cock to give me the most
pleasure.
I noticed her demeanor toward me changed. At first I thought it was
fear but I noticed she was willing to do anything I told her to and
smiled while doing it. It seemed that she found pleasure in bringing
me pleasure. This was something new in my experience and I was
curious to learn more about it. In order to find if it was real or
feigned I put her to a test.
I laid her on my bed and tied her face down and spread eagled. Every
inch of her skin was within reach of my whip. She wasnt very
resistant to pain because after a dozen blows with a leather quirt she
was screaming most piteously and trying to escape her bindings. With
her back and ass covered with red stripes I turned her over and retied
her. I laid on the quirt to her breasts and inner thighs which
brought her to a paroxysm of screaming and bucking wildly.
She normally has a beautiful body with skin that is smooth and milky
but now she looked like an injured toy. I had taken something away
from her. Her natural beauty was not there. Now she looked damaged
and no longer perfect.
I listened to her babble and tears but only heard complaints about the
pain she felt. She was hurting but not trying to change her state.
She seemed satisfied with being the victim of my whipping. In order
to find out how she felt about me I untied her and ordered her to sit
in my lap where I held her. I wrapped a quilt around her while she
sat there blubbering. She rested her head on my shoulder and I
couldnt resist stroking her long wavy hair. Occasionally I would
wrap a strand around my hand and pull back knowing it hurt her.
She didnt waver, only waiting until I relaxed so she could put her
head back on my shoulder. I remembered that when I had whipped her in
the past she caterwauled but did not attempt escape. At that time I
had put her submissiveness down to fear of my reprisal but now I
realized she accepted my maltreating her as a part of her life and
mine. She knew I would not harm her more than a few days of recovery
would heal.
One night I asked her What would you think if I didnt whip you or
pull your hair?
She said It would mean you dont want me anymore.
I realized that my cruelty to her was a signature of our relationship.
Up till now I had pictured her as a victim, someone to be used,
whipped, fucked and milked of blood. With her now declaring that all
these cemented us together I saw her in a new light. Not as an object
to use and throw away but rather as a part of my life.
We maintained this life for many years until she fell sick and after
several days of sweating and coughing she moved no more. It seemed
odd that I who never got sick had lost a part of my life to sickness.
I buried her in the churchs cemetery because I think she would have
liked it.
I missed her terribly and found the house lonely and empty. I
survived by draining itinerant travelers of their blood.
http://olypen.com/norton/vampireindex.html