By Louetta

This is a little different but some people like it. It's not
complete because I came before I finished it and never got back
to it. This is clearly a fantasy. Most of my stuff is pretty much
based on reality.

The horse. The special horse I had custom designed. The girl I
would torture would be stood against the post, her arms pulled up
over her head, her hands drawn behind the post. Above her was a
metal ring and through the ring ran a length of chain and to the
ends of this chain her wrists were manacled. Then her legs would
be spread wide, each foot chained to the small platform on either
side a foot above the floor.

Then the guards would be dismissed and there in the flickering
firelight she would be mine. Slowly I would strip her naked.
Gently I would caress her soft skin. Skillfully I would bring her
nude body to that point of pleasure only love can bring. Then I
would stop. Then I would choose the implement. A metal rod a foot
and a half long, perhaps smooth, perhaps saw toothed, possibly
with a single protruding spike. I would insert it into the hole
in the post to which the girl was chained, into the strategically
placed hole visible just below the pink lips of her sex, which
only moments ago I had gently stroked.

Then I would begin, a quarter inch at a time, slowly, ever so
slowly to lower the small platforms on which she stood. Slowly,
ever so slowly, unable to close her legs, the metal rod beneath
her cunt would press harder and harder into the soft wet flesh.
At first she could relieve the pressure simply by standing on her
toes. But soon the stress of standing on tiptoe would require her
more and more to drop down just enough for the cold steel to
impinge on her warm, moist flesh.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the platforms would drop further and then
her toes would no longer reach the little platforms. Now it would
be necessary for her to pull herself up by the wrists to keep the
weight of her body off the cruel device that threatened the
tender tissue between her thin brown thighs. Finally the
platforms would drop far enough so that only the strength of her
arms and shoulders would keep her from the cruelest torture a
girl can undergo. Finally her arms would weaken and her full
weight would press her soft pink slit against the unforgiving
metal. I would watch her nubile body writhe in agony, hear her
scream for mercy, offer her occasional respite only to let her
descend again into the hell that only torturing a girls' most
delicate parts can provide.

And all this time I would be before her, with easy access to her
naked body, listening to her pleas for mercy, watching her
suffer, til she was stretched full length, the cuffs that held
her wrists cutting her flesh til thin lines of blood snuck down
her forearms, her arms and shoulders straining under the weight
of her body, the sweat dripping from every pore, lily white
breasts shining in the near darkness, the down covered muscles of
her sun browned stomach straining to pull her cunt off the cruel
beam between her thin brown thighs, her taut girlish bottom, snow
white in the dark, clenched against the horrible pain only inches
away, her long tanned legs spread wide, straining to reach the
platforms just inches out of reach.

And I alone would witness this inviting spectacle, eagerly
watching and enjoying every second of her agony as her ordeal
progressed, slowly, painfully, as she was stretched to the limit
of her endurance and, perhaps, if she were not particularly
strong, or, simply if I desired it, beyond that limit. And
finally she would either relent or she would slip into
unconsciousness. And if she relented I would have my way with her
under happier circumstances, with her simply spread eagled naked
on my bed, wrists and ankles tied to the four corners while I
took my pleasure with her helpless nude body, again and again and
again. And if she would not relent her torture would continue.
Again and again. Until she did relent. Or until she died.

I caught my breath as Kelly was led in. She was just as beautiful
today as on the first day I had seen her. Perhaps more so. Her
blond hair pulled back tightly on her head. Clad only in the
short black shift traditional for all those destined to be
tortured. The short black shift I would soon rid her of, that
barely covered the small delicate breasts, the tight, thinly
muscled stomach, the narrow hips, the slender down covered legs.

Underneath, I knew, she wore only the thin perfunctory white
cotton panties issued to all prisoners, which would soon be the
last item that separated me from the pleasures of her body.
Separated me from her flossy loins, the thin blond ramp of hair
that pointed the way to the garden of delight that lay between
her legs. The garden of delight which would be mine one way or
another, either in the torture chamber or the bedchamber.
Barefoot, her thin white, lightly muscled legs shimmering in the
glow of the fire. Her wrists were bound tightly together behind
her back.

She shivered noticeably as the guards led her to the post to
which she would be bound. Shivered, whether from fear or the
cold, dank air of the torture chamber I could not tell. I drank
in the loveliness of her body, barely hidden by the threadbare
garment that hung limply from the spaghetti straps just above her
breasts. Indeed she was more appealing than ever before, her
already spare young body thinned all the more by her captivity.
Her nipples, so hard they shown like beacons through the spare
fabric that barely covered her breasts, betrayed the growing fire
in her loins, the fire every girl felt who was bound, helpless,
about to be tortured. The fire that was kindled when the guards
came to her cell to find her clad only in her little shift and
barely there panties, that was fanned when they bound her wrists
behind her and led her to the torture room and which grew hotter
as she confronted the scene in which she would be tortured.

A month ago I had asked her to be my lover. She had declined. A
day later I asked again, more insistently, again she declined. A
day later I threatened her if she continued to refuse me, again
she declined. A day later she was arrested and each day since, as
she lay in the dungeon, fed bread and water, half frozen in the
dank cell, chained to a rude metal bed, she declined. And now it
was necessary to take more drastic steps. Strip that luscious
body that I burned for naked as the day she was born, chain her
to a post, ask her once more to submit and, if she refused, which
I knew she would, torture her in the cruelest way a girl can be
tortured. Torture her naked body, slowly, gradually, inch by
inch, until she promised me what I wanted. Her body, naked, her
lily-white breasts, nipples hard as rock, thin brown legs spread
to reveal the silken lips that guarded the moist young cunt I
craved. That same naked body I would now torture.

And so she stood, silent in front of the device upon which she
would suffer. Slowly I would strip her. Slowly, gently, I would
introduce myself to every inch of her tantalizingly naked young
body. For the first hour I would introduce her to all the
pleasures that her nakedness could provide and, if she continued
to resist me, then it would be necessary to subject my alluring
blond captive to all the agony that that beautiful body endure. I
watched as they prepared her. To her credit she showed no sign of
fear, no sign of resistance against what she must know was
inevitable.

It took them a minute to adjust the chains and the platforms to
her height but soon they were ready and her wrists, tied to this
point tightly behind her, were unbound. For a moment she stood
there, staring at the instrument of torture before her, rubbing
her wrists where she had been bound. Soon, I thought, her wrists
would pain her indeed. I watched in silence as they turned her
around and backed her up til her taut young behind pressed
against the post. Then they bid her raise her arms over her head,
then roughly they drew her wrists behind the post and affixed the
manacles attached to the chain from which she would soon hang
suspended.

She made no protest but I heard her sob softly as they spread her
legs wide and lifted each foot up onto the platform to which it
would be chained, arms straight above her head, legs at the
prescribed sixty degree angle that would offer maximum exposure
of the soft white flesh of her inner thighs and the tender pink
lips of her sex to the attentions that were to come. There was a
pause and she stood there helplessly, her delicate body
silhouetted against the harsh brown oak of the post, her chest
heaving slightly, beads of sweat beginning to gather on her brow,
the soft down that coated her arm pits beginning to glisten.

She knew what was to come. The effect on her tempting young body
was palpable. Bound nearly naked, legs spread wide, surrounded by
virile young guards, about to be tortured, torture she surely
must know would be administered while she was completely nude,
she felt the warmth of desire in her bosom, the hardness of her
nipples, the heat rising in her groin, the moisture in her cunt.
Her soft white breasts heaved slightly, her agile white rump
contracted involuntarily, her thighs parted imperceptibly. She
could see the guards eye her slender young body hungrily. Then I
spoke and the guards abruptly departed.

I was alone with the young woman whose body I craved. I moved
closer to her. Close enough so she heard me and turned her head
in my direction. The room was dark except for the four small
torches that surrounded my sweet victim, casting her helpless
body in an eerie glow. But despite the dark she knew me.

"It's you," she said shakily.

"Yes, it's me," I answered softly.

For five minutes we neither said nor did anything. She stood
chained to the post, shivering in the cold, shivering in the
brief little shift that covered her only from the middle of her
dear sweet breasts to the bottom of her soft white ass. Every so
often she let out a barely audible sob. Every so often she pulled
against the chains that bound her securely to the device upon she
would soon writhe in naked agony in a world that for a few
glorious hours would consist of only me and her.

As time passed I could see she was truly frightened. Occasionally
her head turned from side to side, her glorious young bottom,
ground into the hard wood of the post beneath her. Desperately
she tried to force her sun-tanned thighs together. The thin gloss
of sweat on her forehead coalesced into small droplets which ran
slowly down the sides of her temples. The soft skin between her
breasts glowed with moisture, her underarms glistened. High up
between her thighs the edges of her panties moistened with sweat
and, in the middle of that thin wisp of fabric which hid the
wonders of her pink little slit, the first moist traces of the
growing fire deep in her tender loins soiled the undergarment
that I would soon remove. I moved closer to her.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"You know why I'm doing this. Because I want to. Because I want
you. I want your body. I want you lying naked beside me, I want
to drink in the loveliness of your naked body. The glory of your
bared breasts, your soft velvet stomach, your thin brown thighs,
the moist pink pleasures of your pussy. I want all of you to
myself."

"Never!"

"Not never. Perhaps not right now, but not never. Soon. Soon I'm
going to have you. When you endure what I'm going to do to you if
you do not let me have you you soon will."

"Never, I'll die first!"

"Well, we have to consider that possibility."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Why I'm going to torture you. Strip you naked, enjoy the
pleasures of your body against your will and then torture you.
Torture you til you scream for mercy. Every naked inch of you.
But especially those naked inches that make you a girl, between
those virgin thighs spread wide apart to offer me easy access to
the tenderness of your moist young pussy, the moist young pussy
you will soon relent and freely offer me. Only a girl can truly
torture another girl. Only another girl can truly know what a
girl feels when she is brought into the torture chamber, when she
is bound and helpless, when she is stripped naked and, finally
when her most private parts are tortured, over and over again,
tortured until she relents. As you will. After awhile."

Then slowly I approached her, the helpless girl who awaited me
alone in the glow of the fire. Deep in my dungeon where no one
could hear her scream, no one would know just what was done to
her and how much I made her suffer. As I stepped next to her she
began to tremble slightly, now certainly with fear. Desperately
she tried to free herself, her body twisting to and fro, her
wrists and ankles pulling against the chains that held her fast.
Finally she surrendered to the inevitability of her fate and
stood still. She had broken out into a cold sweat. Traces of
moisture shown on her forehead, her neck, under her arms, down
her chest and on the inside of her thighs. She felt the dampness
where her shift lay softly against her bare breasts, her tummy,
above her bottom and between her legs. I stood in front of her
and slipped my right hand up the front of her shift and hooked my
fingers in the waistband of her threadbare white panties. "Now we
must begin. Now I must have you naked." And slowly I started to
remove her clothes.

louetta_keene@yahoo.com


  
Later On - Kelly