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From: Christine@Ms-Christine.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.bondage
Subject: Under Control, part nineteen
Date: Mon, 06 Nov 2006 00:06:26 +0000
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===================
Story:- Under Control. Copyright: Victor Bruno.
http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html
Under Control
by Victor Bruno
part nineteen
"Halt!" Delia's voice rang out.
The two slave girls dragging Paul stopped at once and Paul's
relief was almost overwhelming. Could it be over? He had sensed
there was still time to go yet.
Near to tears, he looked at the naked flesh of the two girls
before him, the wire now slack between them. He saw the sweat
that glistened on their flesh... saw the muscles that twitched
with fatigue and pain... and realised that their sufferings
could scarcely be less than his.
Delia came into view, blonde and beautifully nude, smiling
slightly in that smugly arrogant way of hers. How he hated
that. No! No... he must not hate! He must submit and accept
everything from her. She was his mistress.
"For the last half hour," she said, "we'll try it a little
differently..."
Paul's heart sank. God, he had been right! His ordeal was by no
means over. And what did this smiling she-devil with the lushly
inviting body have in mind now?
He was soon to know. For Delia came swinging up on to the
steel-framed trolley on which Paul was secured kneeling. He was
riven by the sight, scent and sexual closeness of her.
Tormented!
The smell of sexual arousal was intense as her blond triangle of
hair thrust into his face. Then she knelt and her lush breasts
were close to his face, she was unloosing the wire which was
around both the root of his penis and his scrotum.
Paul gave a little low moan of relief, head drooping. Grinning,
Delia took hold of his organ and toyed with it casually.
"A little uncomfy, eh?" she said. "How long since you had a
piece?"
"Months... Miss.." replied Paul hoarsely. "M-Months...."
Despite what he had been and was even now enduring, Delia's
close presence and her touch were beginning to make themselves
felt.
"That explains it...." laughed Delia. "But it does not excuse
it."
She was obviously referring to the instant reactions that young
Karen had produced, or perhaps she could tell the effect she was
having.
"Right, you randy bastard," she went on, "now we're going to do
it differently."
The feeling of panic-terror gripped Paul once more as Delia now
looped the wire noose about his scrotum alone, tightening it
above his balls.
"N-NO... no...." he gasped out. "For God's sake... NO... you...
you'll... y-you'll castrate m-me...."
"Oh no," smiled Delia. "Nothing so simple as that. Though, I
admit, you will probably feel as if you're losing your
goolies."
"Mercy... oh God... I beseech you... have mercy...."
He was at the end of his tether, literally and metaphorically.
It had been bad enough when the wire had encircled the girth of
his penis and the scrotum; now, he was hideously aware, to be
pulled in this way... to be literally pulled by his balls....
would be even worse.
Completely disregarding his pleas, Delia stood up on the trolley
and turned. Right before Paul's eyes was the creamy-whiteness of
her curvaceous bottom. In her hand was the horsewhip. It cracked.
Once... twice.
"Move, my beauties!" she commanded as she pushed her buttocks
back to smother Paul's face.
* * * * * * *
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