## Archive-name: sherry08-11

From: 103236.3204@compuserve.com (the_munk)

Subject: Sherry#08: POW (Repost)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories

Sherry#08: POW (Repost) (see Sherry#00: Background, . . .)
It is a Spring morning, cleaned by the brief rain that just gave way to Ol' Sol. She walks, not in a rush, but with a purpose, from the cleaner's to her waiting car. Ready to complete the day's errands, she sips the last of the Coke left over from a fast food breakfast.

The slot for the ignition key seems to move every time she tries to mate it with the key. Again she reaches out with the key, but her arm just doesn't want to respond, becoming weaker with each passing second. The dash is becoming fuzzy as she opens her mouth to call for help, but can release no sound from her lips.

"Help!" she thinks to herself, "What's going on...", as her eyelids shade the steering wheel from view and she slowly lays over to her right, sound asleep.

Strange birds sing as she awakes. Sharp pain from her wrists behind her. Eyes covered almost completely, she feels the bars all around her, very close to her on all sides. She is standing and can't sit, held by the cage.

Footsteps toward her. "Please, anybody, where am I?"

A loud bang near her and she feels herself, bars and all, swinging freely.

A not to far away voice shouting a oriental language and in an instant, the bottom drops out from under her. Hands grab her under her arms and though bound hand and foot, she is dragged toward the voice. Stairs strike her bare feet as she is pulled up a flight. She is thrown against a wall and falls back on uncovered box springs. The voice is heard again and the blindfold removed.

Around her, several orientals wearing army green uniforms. Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, she couldn't tell. A hut, rough wood floors, bamboo walls, some sort of thatch for roof. A desk, radio, files, not much else.

One of the men barks something at her she couldn't understand. Again, the same phrase in the same unknown tongue.

The figure that spoke steps closer and slaps her across the face, throwing her head to the side. The phrase is repeated, still without recognition. Again and again she is slapped. As she struggles to regain her bound footing, a dozen bayonets are snapped up and held at her throat and chest.

She sees the leader's eye glance at the others as he points to her and barks out his orders. Instantly, her feet are untied and secured to the corners of the bare box springs. A vine noose is slipped around her neck and tied to the bed. Hands still behind her, a bucket of water is thrown on her, wetting her uniform through. Again the phrase, now shouted at her.

The man holds a wire in his hand. He touches her leg with it, sending jolts throughout her body, grabbing the leg as if in a toothed bear trap. Again the phrase and the wire is touched to the other leg; jarring her, forcing her muscles to contort and clench without her command, biting her lip from pain.

When she slowly opens her eyes, the man holds a wire in each hand. She struggles against the restraints as he repeats the phrase. She knows what he is going to do with the wires, she can't stop it from happening. He holds them closer. Closer to her chest. Closer to her breasts. Even before he touches her, she closes her eyes and screams.

When she regains her senses, all she can see is a cage surrounding her head. A wooden board blocks the end in front of her, but she can see parts of the hut from the sides. The men are still there, laughing and talking in their foreign tongue.

She is reclining, legs restrained at the ankles. The cage must be attached because she can't move it with her head or shoulders. As she tries moving her arm, she hears the rattle of chains. She tries to touch the head cage, but the chains on her wrists are just long enough to allow her to touch and go no further.

The men hear her stirring, she feels one grab her hands, place them on the buttons of her blouse and jiggle it, signaling her to undo them. She hesitates, pretending not to understand. The wooden board in front of her sides slowly upward, reviling a wire door a few inches from her face. On the other side of the door is ..... a RAT!

She struggles futilely against the chains, trying to grab the cage and remove it, then to escape. She can't. She screams. A half dozen bayonets snap to her throat, making their points known to her flesh. Her hands are again placed on the buttons of her blouse and jiggled, signaling her to undo them. Slowly, she does. Bottom to top, one button at a time, until fully open, fully bare chested, fully pleasing her captors who "ooohhh" and laugh wide eyed.

She unzips her trousers and raising her hips, slides them over her ass, down to almost her knees. She couldn't see, but could feel cold steel sliding up both legs, cutting and sawing the fabric. The two leg scraps are pulled, pulled clean away to the hoops of the men, leaving her totally uncovered.

Her hands are placed on her breasts and then one on her slit as an unknown, but understood command is given to continue. She starts rolling a nipple between her fingers, sliding fingers into herself, already wet from fear.

Her eyes are closed as she gets more in the mood, caressing and fondling, a show "for the troops". She hears a tap on the cage, sees the leader grinning ear to ear as he points in front of her. The wire door separating face to face rat contact is lifted slightly. The rat immediately sees and tries to wiggle through the crack at her bottom. The little nose sniffing, whiskers twitching, seeking just enough space.....

Her hands are again directed to her pussy, laughter and jesting all around her. She closes her eyes and slides her fingers tightly into her already dripping slit. Before she knows it, her hips are rising and lowering, her nipples rock hard to her touch. She hears sounds from the men, very much enjoying her performance. She is close, very close, she can't hold back the climax, just about there, breathing hard and raspy, moaning with every stroke of her fingers, heart pounding as if about to explode. A metal squeak in front of her. She opens her eyes. The RAT! The RAT HAS PUSHED UP THE DOOR AND IS AT HER FACE!!!

The shock, gasping, gulping, heart pounding as cold water hits her. Quickly, she touches her cheeks, nose, chin, everything still there, still unblemished.

She looks slowly around as her vision clears. She sits in a bathtub with a few inches of water, still very much naked. The men sit around her, talking about her, joking about her, in words she can't understand.

She is given a sponge and soap. To the prompting of their bayonets, she baths herself as the captors look on. The water is warm, but the cool night air chills her, rising goose bumps on her arms and hardening her nipples more then they were.

Hair and face washed, she is handed a bottle of beer. As she starts to take a sip, the same man stops her hand and points to her crotch. Obeying him, she lowers the bottle to her slit and slides the neck in. She works it in and out, the movement and warmth causing the fluid to foam and tickle inside her before running out. Bottle empty, she is handed another.

She is already hot from not being able to cum before. As she writhes to the special douche, her moanings entice the man to stand straddling the tub. He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. He pulls her head forward by her wet hair. With his knife at her juggler, she doesn't resist as he slides into her mouth. He holds her head and masturbates his cock with her head and mouth. He quickly cums, holding inside her until she swallows.

Unable to control himself, the leader grabs her by one arm and throws her face down onto a mattress. A man grabs each wrist and pulls them to the sides. Four more grab her knees and ankles, forcing her spread in a doggie position. The leader unzips his fly and pulling her cheeks up and apart, rams in his cock. Her body betrays her, she cannot control herself, she wants this cock, she wants the feeling.

She is there, moaning, panting, just about to CUM! He touches her, touches her with a wire on her ass. Her buttocks are grabbed by a thousand needles, jolted back and hard onto his cock.

He continues to pump, enjoying her thrust upon him, squeezing her cheeks, fingering her hole, bringing her up again, and ZAP! The wire again.

She pulls her arms, she tries to jerk her legs away. The more she struggles, the tighter her captors hold her, the more they love it, the more aroused she becomes as the leader's cock pumps her again.

The feeling, lost in only the feeling, she screams as the cock pulses inside of her, unloading it's cum. She screams and cums. Cums with such exhaustion, she relaxes and falls asleep.

She awakens to a soft voice, "Can you hear me? Can you talk?" Perfect English, is she dreaming?

Even before she opens her eyes, her body conveys its position, its discomfort. The tiny cage she is in holds her on all fours with no room to move. Her cage sets on a table, surrounded by the men, a new figure wearing an obviously officer uniform, and a beautiful oriental woman in a white blouse and pants.

"I am Kina, I will interpret for this man, Colonel Kragg. The Sargent tells us you've been here two days without food." as the girl speaks, she pushes pieces of biscuit into the cage, in front of her mouth. She eats hungrily without use of her hands, finishing with a drink from a tray inside the cage.

"There is little food in the camp, especially meat. You are fortunate the Sargent thought you so entertaining. Otherwise, you'd be at the bottom of the latrine by now." the woman moves beside the cage and slides her hand between the bars. She fondles and then slides her fingers into her slit, sliding deeper as the juices flow lubrication. "I spent most of my life in your country. I went to collage at UCLA. Parts of my family still live in San Francisco, Sacramento, and Fresno."

The officer draws his sword and rests it's tip between the bars and under her chin, lifting it to see her eyes. He exchanges unknown words with the women. The women in white speaks, "Which one of these men used his cock in you?"

Terrified to answer, she looks around through the bars. She sees the Sargent lifting the flap of a holster, reaching for his gun. She looks back at the woman and answers, "On one."

"But your body tells me differently." coys the women in white.

Before she could blink, the sword whistles through the air and past the Sargent as a warning. There is a look of both terror and puzzlement on the Sargent's face as he stands motionless and then slowly falls forward. As he falls across a chair, his head leaves his body, slides across the table, and comes to rest when it hits the cage, dead eyes looking up at her.

The body and head are removed as the women speaks, "I must admit, I find you very entertaining myself. Appearances are sometimes deceiving. My father is General Khan. Because of him, I do as I please without challenge. You are Colonel Kragg's prisoner, but I may influence his decisions. I will give you one warning: You are useful alive only as long as he thinks you have information. Tell him what he wants to know or tell him a lie, you will terminated quicker then the Sargent!".

She finds herself tied to the top of a large wooden cross, shaped in an 'X'. The top end with her head is reclined down, arms and legs in chains to the poles, pulling her into a spread eagle. The center of the 'X' is under her back, leaving her head and hips unsupported, waist high.

The question is put to her, first from the Colonel, then in English from the woman, "Why are you here?"

Fearing her earlier warning, she can only answer with silence.

A wave of the Colonel's hand, two men turn large wheels at her feet, pulling her body tight against it's bonds. A whip across her stomach, twice, three times. She winces and yelps with each.

The question, the silence, she moans loudly as the chains tighten beyond her limits. The whip finds its place across her breasts, again and again, then to her thighs and mound, biting the cheeks of her ass as the tip orbits her hips.

Sweating all over from trying to pull against the force, she hears the women say, "Ah, you poor thing. You're bleeding!"

The women stoops between her legs and begins licking a small cut on the inside of her thigh. Down and then up her leg, then over and spreading her slit with her tongue. Despite, or maybe because of the pain from taunt arm and leg muscles, she begins to moan and tense with pleasure as the woman fingers her while she licks.

She is so into her mood, she doesn't notice as the Colonel ties two corners of a handkerchief around her neck, allowing the remainder to cover her face. Two soldiers are positioned at her sides and begin to lick and suck her nipples and breasts. Two others stroke her legs and lick her stomach and hips.

Just as she begins to groan with delight and whisper "PPPpppllllleeeeaaaasssse!" she could feel herself let go to the sensation. Water. Water falls across the handkerchief, slowly at first. As the fabric becomes more saturated, breathing becomes more difficult and labored. The four soldiers and women continue without stop, as she begins to panic; caught between the pleasure and the urgency for air. The water continues, she sucks hard to pull a few gasps through the wet material. The adrenalin flows throughout her, hardening her nipples beyond rocks, tensing her breasts, rushing her clit as the tongue surrounds it.

She cums, screaming, heart pounding, arms pulling, hands clenching, SHE CUMS HARD!

As she regains consciousness, she fells little touches on her back and hips. Her hands and arms are chained above her, to the wall at the top of the mattress. Her knees and ankles are chained to the sides, holding her solidly in a doggie position. She is being played with, her slit very wet from the woman's fingers working on it. Her hole is being touched, lubed, the feelings building inside her, wanting.

"Today is Colonel Kragg's birthday" the woman explains. You are going to be my present to him.

She is too turned on to care as she hears him enter the room. She needs and wants too badly to object as he slides his cock into her, filling her roughly at first. She moans as the smell of brimstone touches her nostrils and she hears unfamiliar words to the familiar tune of "Happy Birthday to You".

Birthday candles down her spin and across the top of her hips light the room as she loses herself to the pumping cock inside her. The first touch of dripping wax causes her to flinch onto the cock, causing a chain reaction of wax drips, she gasps a breath as the hot chorus hit her backside.

"He will have you until the candles burn out. Ass, cunt, mouth, whatever he chooses. If you wiggle too much and a candle blows out, he has been commanded to replace his cock with his sword!" the women tells her.

She does not have to be told, she is enjoying her punishment too much to disturb it!

dd:
Munk always seems to catch me when I'm least expecting ... can't get in the car without being turned on ... expecting ... not knowing how or when he'll take me ... sometimes cum thinking about what he's done before ... so love being helpless ... so love his control ... so love the freedom ... so love his cock ... so love the FEELINGS I have with him.

I've been gone the last 8 days ... war prisoner somewhere, sometime ... how does he do it? ... when he puts me to sleep and wakes me there ... real or dream? ... must be real when he has me dangling there ... so cruel this time ... so much fear ... so much force ... so much control ... so much SEX ... the women so beautiful ... so turned on by her ... I know it was real, wasn't it? (still sore) ... how could someone actually do this to me? ... how could I LOVE TO FEEL IT so much? ... how could I be so horny thinking about it?

He spends so much time doing this to me ... he knows what I want ... what I need ... what I can't get from Dick... God help me, I love Munk so.

p.s.

Where did he get the alligators???????

s.

Postscript:

Just so you won't have to ask, I live in the Midwest outside Kansas City.

If you like anything I've written, please feel free to tell me. I welcome and invite any and all emails.

If you're a lurking sub, please take the next step and Email me. I will be happy to share and will always reply with honesty and openness.

Thanks!

103236.3204@compuserve.com The Munk

Path: bull.hkstar.net!hk.linkage.net!uunet!in2.uu.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.compuserve.com!newsmaster From: 103236.3204@compuserve.com (the_munk) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories Subject: Sherry#09: You Couldn't Do That On a Bicycle (Repost) Date: 23 Jul 1996 02:48:26 GMT Organization: BD Lines: 202 Message-ID: <4t1ehq$dij@arl-news-svc-3.compuserve.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: hd20-162.compuserve.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: Text/Plain; charset=US-ASCII X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.99.7 Xref: bull.hkstar.net alt.sex.bondage:188847 alt.sex.stories:149501

Sherry#09: You Couldn't Do That On a Bicycle (Repost) (see Sherry#00: Background, . . .)

She sleeps, covered only by a sheet. My hand slides slowly under and to her shoulder. I touch her. She does not stir. As I tickle her down her spine and then scratch back up, she turns on her stomach to allow herself to be more accessible. Though I've touched her many times, we've never spent the night together.

My hand descends past her cheeks to her thighs. I knead from the side, and down, taking in every inch to her ankles, feet, and toes. Slowly working up, both hands on her right thigh, she spreads herself slightly. Up, slowly, up and encompassing her perineum against the side of my hand as her hip is worked from both sides. Hand slipping around her cheek, I move up her back and to her shoulders. Down to the waist and left leg. Up slowly, working on both sides of her thigh and then up as before with the other side, hand at her crotch.

An hour passes. As I move up from her thighs, I slide my hands on either side of her cheeks and squeeze her "love handles" tightly. As I do, she rolls her hips forward, pressing her mound into the mattress. She turns over, remaining under the sheet, but in full reach of my touches. As I touch her stomach and then mound so softly my fingers couldn't perceive, she rolls her hips up to greet me.

She watches me. Her eyes now almost glassy, fixated on my eyes, lost in the mood. I touch her breasts. As I squeeze each in each hand she closes her eyes and moans as her hips rise, "Its been too long".

I pause, but retain my touch, now on her stomach and mound. Her eyes are filled with me, drinking me in. I watch her watching me, savoring the her look.

She asks softly, "What would you like to do next?"

"If you were giving yourself to me, I'd have to tie your hands and ankles, spreading you, keeping you open so I can lick and touch you anywhere, any way, and whenever I please", I reply.

"There's some old sheets in the closet. Tear them into strips", she whispers.

As I fashion what was to be her bindings, she watches every move intently. As I approach her, she pushes up her arms, sheet still covering all, but her head, neck and wrists. Quickly I work and tie each wrist to a corner of the brass bed before she changes her mind. I pick up another linen strip and as I approach, her foot and ankle appear out of the corner of the sheet near the foot.

Following my every move with her eyes, I tie a strip to her ankle, pull her leg hard to remove any slack in her arm ties, and tie the ankle firmly to the corner. Repeating with the other leg, I ask as I finish the last knot, "Are you warm enough?"

"Why do you want to know? Are you going to take the sheet off?" she asks softly.

"I want to know your nipples are mine, not the air conditioner's. Besides, I like to breathe when my tongue is inside you", I reply.

Ripping back the sheet, she lay before me in all her splendor and beauty. I start at her ankle, working up and finally engaging her slit with my tongue. She rolls and pumps to my tongue's penetration. I squeeze each of her cheeks until I think she'll scream from pain and lift her even tighter against my mouth, her "lips", my tongue, my lips, beard tickling her perineum and thighs, mustache coaxing her clitoris.

She begins pumping uncontrollably. Without touching her, she tries her best to make herself cum. Her eyes pleading, then her lips, "Please, I need it. You don't know how much I need it!".

"I DO know how much. Remember when you were touching me, teasing me and just left in the middle? Remember yesterday, you made me promise not to fuck you when I massaged you and made you cum with my tongue?" I spoke, moving my touch to her dripping slit.

"I'll do anything you want. Just fuck me, NOW!", she pleads.

"My price is high. For me to break my pledge, you'll have to become my property, my slave. If I want to slide into your ass, you'll not only spread yourself for me, you'll put on the lube." as I say this, while my fingers tease her slit, I let my little finger circle her anus, sending chills throughout her.

"At any time, even just to clean your juices off me, you'll have to suck my cock. Do you think you can do that?"

"YYYyyeeesss! If it means you'll fuck me over and over, anything!" she pants.

"And how about this pledge? How will I punish you for wanting it?" I ask sternly.

"Man handle me. I need to be roughed up", she whispers.

Untying and retying one knee up high, her ass is rolled up on it's side. My hand stings as I slap her ass. At the same instant, she lurches, as if startled, then slowly recoils as her lips release, "ooooowwwww!".

A few more swats and she is breathing heavily. My belt slips out of my trousers and replaces my hand. Only a few swats and she is panting. I release her pulled up leg and return her to her spread eagle position. As the cool sheet touches her rear, she jerks and then settles down, still breathless.

"Are you ready to please me?", holding my cock in front of her face.

She nods and opens her mouth. As I straddle her, my body settles on her, my mouth to her slit. She takes me in as my tongue sinks into her. The more she circles my head, the more I circle her clitoris. The more passionately she sucks, the more my beard tickles her lips. As she is about to cum, I slid deep into her, pushing the back of her throat, and after a second, pull out. Finally, I cum as she sucks me dry, pumping her slit on my lips as she does.

She has lost touch with reality when I raise up and turn around. She eyes closed, she hunkers the air without me, lost in the feeling, lost in the lust, lost in the hunger.

Between her legs, facing her, her face at my chest, my cock's head finds her slit, a wet, warm mass rising to meet every touch. Through her lips the head slides and her hunkering suddenly stops, her body begins to quake. IN HARD! I plunge and hit bottom. Pumping in, out, she shakes and tenses every muscle, the veins in her neck bulge, until pain in her face turns instantly to joy. I grab her hair and pull her head back as I force my lips to her mouth and cup her breast with my other hand. She cums. She shakes as if just finishing the last steps of a marathon. Her mouth opens and slowly releases a moan into our open kiss. As if she found her second wind, she pumps with me, faster and faster. I feel her clenching my cock again and again until slowly, after what seems hours, the greeting fades.

I collapse next to her. A minute, an hour, who knows how long? I rise and return with warm, moist towels and begin wiping her head and shoulders. She lies motionless as I loosen and free her ankles. I carefully sooth her legs with towel, gently roll her on her side and pull the top knee forward. My towel wipes and cleans her hips, thighs, and then very slowly, between them. Her eyes open as a smile graces her face and she "uummm"s as if just tasting something sweet.

"Lay on me." she whispers.

As I roll her over, hands still bound over her head, I touch her stomach and mound, slowly sliding down to her slit. As if an uncontrollable reflex her hips rock upward to meet my touch. Her eyes are wide open and look deeply into mine. As I move to lay on her, my stomach pushes against her mound and slit, being met by the rolling of her hips. I pull her breast up and suck its nipple as my cock slides in. She's lost in her world of feeling, drinking in every touch, every sensation.

The day is still young.

dd:
God I feel alive today, the whole day as a sex slave!

... being helpless ... under his control ... so love his cock ... so love the FEELINGS he makes me feel ... when he has me dangling ... so much force ... so much control ... so much SEX ... (still sore) ... why can I get so horny just thinking about it ... how could I LOVE TO FEEL IT so much?

God help me, I love Munk so.

s.

Postscript:

Just so you won't have to ask, I live in the Midwest outside Kansas City.

If you like anything I've written, please feel free to tell me. I welcome and invite any and all emails.

If you're a lurking sub, please take the next step and Email me. I will be happy to share and will always reply with honesty and openness.

Thanks!

103236.3204@compuserve.com The Munk

Path: bull.hkstar.net!hk.linkage.net!uunet!in2.uu.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.compuserve.com!newsmaster From: 103236.3204@compuserve.com (the_munk) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories Subject: Sherry#10: Genital on my Mind Date: 23 Jul 1996 02:49:33 GMT Organization: BD Lines: 189 Message-ID: <4t1ejt$dij@arl-news-svc-3.compuserve.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: hd20-162.compuserve.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: Text/Plain; charset=US-ASCII X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.99.7 Xref: bull.hkstar.net alt.sex.bondage:188848 alt.sex.stories:149502

Sherry#10: Genital on my Mind (see Sherry#00: Background, . . .)

She found her way to the baggage claim. Waiting, she scans the faces of the others circled around the carousel. A light flashes and she hears the machinery start, pulling her wandering eye from it's search.

Endless bags and boxes pass. She catches sight of hers, following it around to her outstretched hand. As she grasps the handle and pulls it toward her, another hand closes over hers. Quite startled, she turns to see the hand's possessor, but finds herself off balance, unable to release her grip, caught between the satchel's weight and the strong hand around her's.

She falls backward into the quicksand of bags that pass, but an arm catches her around the waist and pulls her tight against his tall body. Regaining her footing, she looks into the eyes of the Good Samaritan. Warmly they meet her's as if to drink in every feature of her sole.

"Munk?" she asks meekly.

"My mind's eye doesn't due you justice! Careful, she'd enjoy a hospital bed much less then you would mine." she hears, still looking into my eyes.

Safely in the car, we're on our way. She touches my knee as if to be sure I'm really there, that she isn't dreaming. I slide my hand under hers, lift it to my lips and kiss her knuckles, turn it, kiss she wrist, and then her palm.

"You're more beautiful then I could ever imagine" as my lips withdraw.

We arrive, secluded, a cottage cloaked by Elm and Cedar, huge from the passing of time. Surrounded by pasture and field, its an island of green. She settles in and joins me on a bench swing on the shady porch. A cool breeze filled with the scent of Lilacs and Honeysuckle bathes us as I wrap my arm around her and pull her close. A Red Tail sails almost frozen, holding his station in the breeze, searching pasture with a keen eye. The setting sun brings Doves to the Ceders, cuing their evening love song.

As I feel her relax to the rhapsody, I pull her closer, catch her chin with my free hand and direct her face upward to mine. I look into her eyes and as I see them widen, lean over and kiss her face and lips. She closes her eyes as I feel her yield to my advances, soon moaning into our open kiss, welcoming and beckoning my touch.

I slide my arm under her legs and lift her. As I do, she circles my neck with her arms and lays her head on my shoulder. I carry her to her room. Her eyes speaking words no lips could express, I slowly open her blouse, touching she, loosening her bra. I kiss her as my hand finds her breasts and nipples. As she opens her mouth and explores mine with her tongue, my touch slides down her stomach, down to her mound. She pushes me back, and with the look of wanting, yearning in her eyes, pulls my hands to her waist, signaling without word to finish what I had started with her blouse.

No clothing left on her, I lay on her, cradled by legs and thighs. My mouth is at her stomach, kissing, licking, as my hands cup her rear, lifting she to meet me. I work down, my tongue giving special attention to her thighs and back up, slowly. As my mouth reaches her breasts, I lick between them, kiss them, suck and nibble her nipples.

Her hips rising, pushing against me, I raise her hands and encircle them with waiting shackles hanging from the headboard.

"You're only suppose to react to me, to feel what I evoke from you." I tell her.

I turn her over and work on her back, waist, and legs. I kiss her neck and nibble her ears as I'm touching. The back of her knees, the small of her back, nothing is missed. As I rub oil I miss no chance to slide my fingers through she slit, across her ass, and between her cheeks. As she becomes so turned on she clamps her thighs together and hunkers toward the sheets, I attach her ankles to either end of a pole, spreading, separating, and keeping her open to my advances.

I eventually turn her over on her back. The center of the ankle spreader bar is tied to the foot of the bed. I pull a sheet over her. As my hand continues to touch and slide through her slit, I find her mouth is open to mine, craving my kiss.

"I'm going to let you rest after your trip. The sheet should keep you warm enough that I'll know your nipples are mine, not the cold's. Get your rest, I have much planned for you tomorrow." I tell her, stand, and leave, turning out the light as I go.

I awake to the sounds of howls and yips. I rise and walk to her room without lighting any lights along the way. She's still as I left she, but bathed in the glow of a full moon. I move to her side and find her whimpering, a tear glistens in the moonlight.

As I sit on the bed I say, "Its OK. They're just looking for food. Five or six are usually here at least twice a week, but tonight there's a few more. They can be overwhelming if you've never been this close before. If you'd like, I'll lay by you a while.", all the time touching her stomach and legs.

"I'd like that", she replies. "I'm so afraid!"

I slide under the sheet next to her, still bound as before. I lie on my side, my knee on her mound, my foreleg across her slit. I dry her tears, kiss her face, and touch her as I talk to her. The touches become more erotic and she becomes lost in the mood, not hearing my words. By the time the Coyotes have left she is rolling her hips, rubbing her wetness against my leg.

A Great Horned Owl announces his presences with his "Hoo, hoo, hoot, hoooo".

"Don't worry, its one of the children of the night." I say in my best Bella Lagosi voice.

She's too into feeling the pleasure to hear. I slide down between her legs and begin, licking her thighs, touching her slit, licking her slit, ramming my tongue in and then up around her clitoris. My hands are on her ass, lifting, pulling her harder against my mouth. As I work up to her breasts and then her neck, she feels my hard cock across her thighs and then ride nestled between the wet folds of her slit, it's head resting on her mound. I grab her head with both hands and plant my mouth hard against hers. As she opens her mouth and attempts to moan, "Fuck me, fuck me!", I ram my cock into her. She groans with delight and her body rolls up to meet me. My hands are still on her head, pulling her body down harder onto me. My feet are on the pole between her ankles, allowing me to push quite hard as I pump and ram my cock. Within a few strokes, she's cumming, over and over, screaming "Don't stop!". I don't. 30 minutes, an hour, who knows how long before she relaxes, still panting.

As she regains her breath, I cuddle and hold she. Eventually, I remove the ankle ties and untie the wrist rope from the headboard. I retie the rope above the bed, lift her to her knees, and tie her hands above her head.

"I think you have a few more orgasms left in you" I say as I slide underneath she.

Lifting, I slide her down on my cock. She wastes no time pumping, riding my member as I touch her breasts and stomach, finger her clitoris, and help pump by lifting and dropping her by her ass cheeks.

Almost there... , almost there... , almost ready to cum as I turn on a vibrator and lay it on my stomach where the top of her slit hits when she drops around my cock. She cums and cums with her whole body. I see it in every moonlit muscle. I hear it in her raspy voice (or whatever is coming from her lips), I feel it in the shivers from her legs, but most of all, my cock explodes as I feel her twitching around it. Over and over, until I can coax no more from it.

I let her arms down and clean us with a warm moist towel. I spoon up around her from behind, slowly, gently touching her. She can feel my cock hardening, nestled in the cradle of the cheeks of her ass. With some time, I feel her nipples hardening under my touch. The night is still young, her visit long from over.

Postscript:

Just so you won't have to ask, I live in the Midwest outside Kansas City.

If you like anything I've written, please feel free to tell me. I welcome and invite any and all emails.

If you're a lurking sub, please take the next step and Email me. I will be happy to share and will always reply with honesty and openness.

Thanks!

103236.3204@compuserve.com The Munk

Path: bull.hkstar.net!hk.linkage.net!uunet!in2.uu.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.compuserve.com!newsmaster From: 103236.3204@compuserve.com (the_munk) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories Subject: Sherry#11: Infamous Insect Date: 23 Jul 1996 02:50:53 GMT Organization: BD Lines: 279 Message-ID: <4t1emd$dij@arl-news-svc-3.compuserve.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: hd20-162.compuserve.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: Text/Plain; charset=US-ASCII X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.99.7 Xref: bull.hkstar.net alt.sex.bondage:188849 alt.sex.stories:149503

Sherry#11: Infamous Insect (see Sherry#00: Background, . . .)

I sat in the car waiting. Parked in front of the terminal, I can see the flight arrivals, she should have been here an hour ago.

Finally, there she is, smiling, grinning ear to ear, waving happily when she sees me.

She opens the back door as I load her luggage on the seat. I return to behind the wheel while she climbs in front. Driving away, she is beaming with smiles and giggles. She touches and squeezes my hand as if to be sure I'm there with her.

"I've missed you so much, I can't wait 'til you get me home!" she says.

"You're late. What kept you?" I ask.

Silence. And then, with her little girl look and sad eyes a weak, "Just busy."

"Open the glove box" I tell her.

Slowly, she does, looks around as if expecting a surprise present and asks "What am I looking for?"

"Don't play coy, you know what. Get them out and put them on for me."

Dragging out a pair of handcuffs, she reluctantly loops one around her right wrist and squeezes it in place. Just as she starts the second, I say "NO! Not in front!"

"You know I don't like them in back while we're riding" she pleads.

Grabbing a handful of her hair, I jerk it back and down, holding it there; forcing her head back and chin up.

"You heard me, you little tramp. DO IT!"

Slowly, as not to pull hair from my grip, she complies.

"That's better." I release my hold and continue driving. The remaining 20 minutes passes in silence.

Arriving home, I drive into the garage and push the button to lower the door. I didn't bother with the luggage. Instead, I help her stand and head her inside and toward the basement. My hand grips the cuffs behind her, pulling up and forcing her in the direction I want her to go. Down the stairs and into our makeshift dungeon, still remaining silent.

When we arrive, a noose hangs from the ceiling, not just a lasso, a hangman's noose. She digs in her heels and tries to stay away, but succumbs to her wrenching shoulders when I pull up her arms by the cuffs. The noose is looped over her head, tightened, and I pull down on the free end (looped through a pulley) to remove the slack. The free end is then looped under the handcuff chain, pulled until she is forced to bend over slightly and grunt from the pain. The rope is tied off to hold her in the position.

Stooping down, I remove her shoes, one at a time. As she settles on her bare feet, she closes her eyes, winching from the pain caused by her slightly shorter height pulling harder on the rope above.

She sees a razor in my hand, an old fashioned straight razor. She pleads, "Please don't cut my uniform. I don't have any left. Do whatever, just take it off without ruining it." Her suit crotch is wet, soaked from her juices flowing from excitement.

The blade finds its place at her belt line in front. Tracing down, following the inseam around and between the legs, up to the belt line in back, her trousers and panties fall around her ankles in two pieces.

Her hair is gathered back as a leather helmet is snugged around her head. The straps are cinched down hard closing off her eyes and muffling all sounds. The zipper across the mouth is opened to allow her to speak, for now.

I leave her there, in silence as I prepare. She hangs for an hour, occasionally wiggling trying to find a better position, her wetness gathering and marking a little path down the inside of one leg.

Finally, the rope is untied from the cuffs, she breaths in heavily from relief as her arms drop. The rope is retied to a hook on the wall, holding her standing by the noose.

When cuffs are removed, she hasn't the strength to rub her wrists, let alone resist as her jacket and blouse are opened and removed, or her bra snagged by the razor and taken from her. Her tired arms are directed into a straight jacket she couldn't see. She is strapped tight up the back and the arm flaps cross in front, around, and buckled in back.

A crotch strap is brought between her legs to hold the jacket down. It nestles in, separating the cheeks of her ass as the buckle is worked tighter and tighter.

A frame is now behind her. This is a health frame originally sold to suspend a person by the ankles, balanced in such a way that by sitting forward or leaning backward, the person could control being rotated upside down or downside up.

Her ankles are strapped in place. Straps on the helmet are attached to the top bar. She cannot lean to control her attitude, but she begins to realized she is going for a ride and struggles uselessly as the noose is removed.

"ooooOOOOOHHHHHH!" she says as she rotates around and hung by the ankles in surprise.

Crotch strap loosened, my two fingers push into her wetness without resistance. I part her lips and tease her clitoris as I search and find her urethra entrance. A hypo, with needle removed, is directed to this spot, it's short blunt tip directed at the duct and a few CCs of a solution squirted. Additional solution is dribbled across her as it is rubbed into her clit and throughout her lips, allowing it to flow into her vagina held open by the two fingers inside it. I continue until she is full, solution held like wine in a glass. The crotch strap is snugged tight again, parting her lips and cheeks.

Within moments, she begins bucking the strap. Bucking turns to writhing, writhing turning to rolling and pumping as if an invisible cock was teasing her, about to enter her as she hangs upside down.

"ooooOOOOOOhhhHHHHHH Please! God I need it so bad. I've never wanted cock this bad before!" she pleads.

Bucking and struggling violently, I silence her pleadings by stuffing gauze rolls between her teeth and forcing the zipper closed on her helmet. She is raised to allow the blood to flow better, but tilted enough to hold the solution in her.

An hour passes, another, and a third. She is still bucking and straining the crouch strap, but it moves with her and she couldn't get any leverage to work it against her clit. Her head rolls back and forth, her breathing heavy and raspy through the helmet holes at her nose. Moaning (or wailing?), more like a load humming, poring from the helmet without a pause. Sweat from her everywhere, like dew on her legs, soaking the straight jacket.

I raise her upright and touch the hot cheek of her ass. As I gently stroke her, I see her tense her whole body and rise on her toes, repeating, and pumping her feet as a sound (as if a muffed scream) comes from her. She goes limp, settles down, lifelessly quite. FAINTED!

I recline her back long enough to bring the blood to her head and revive her, then right her again.

I touch the outside of her thigh, she bucks wildly, the muffled scream, and she faints.

I revive her, open the eye flaps on the helmet and see the pain of lust in her. I stand where she see can see me stroke my hard cock, masturbating in from of her, she struggles wildly, I hear the muted cry, and she faints.

I revive her, grab and fondle her ass, she fights and faints. I revive her, lick her calves, she fights and faints. I revive her, tickle her behind the knees, she fights and faints.

I revive her, BLEW ON HER ASS and thighs, she fights and faints.

This time after I revive her, I tie her knees together and carry her to a padded reclining bench, down at the head to keep the blood to her brain. On her stomach, I strap her ankles and then knees to poles extending from the bench, spreading her wide. Arms are unstrapped, the back of the straight jacket slowly unbuckled, and removed. Her arms are stretched over her head and strapped to the corners of the bench. I use wide leather collars around wrists and legs in order to allow her to struggle without the injury handcuffs might inflict.

Her cunt was running thick from hours of frustration. I let her watch through the helmet as I stoke myself, being sure she sees how hard I am. Simple as that, I walk around between her legs and slam into her cunt. She bucks wildly and pulling with all her strength at the straps. I can feel her cumming around my cock, a constant squeezing and letting go, almost in rhythm with my pounding heart.

I pump as she continues to cum, screaming under the helmet all the time, unable to faint with head reclined down. I pump and slam her as hard as I can, expecting her to finish at any moment. I was going to, but held back. I spank her ass, grab a nearby whip and use it on her back, everything drives her more insatiable. Finally I cum deep inside her.

She is still hunkering and moaning inside her closed world. Disbelieving, I slide my fingers into her. The contractions are still here, hammering around my fingers.

Hours go by, she still hunkers when I touch and lick her, still sweating all over, still cums, but not as easily when I slide my cock in her. She is worn down, exhausted, napping if I leave her along for a few minutes.

I remove the helmet to hear her say, "Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Please fuck me anywhere. Please, just fuck me!"

I force her to drink beer and then water. She had been sweating and cumming so hard so long I knew she needed water. A tube to a tumbler is inserted in her mouth and duct tape sealed shut. I pinch her nose and command her to drink if she wants to breath. When she needs to purge herself, she is near the basement floor drain, it merely squirts out on the floor for a later hosing.

Drink and purge, drink and purge, slide in my cock, work her over until I cum myself, and check the effect on her. When I could eventually get no sexual response from her, I carry her to bed, give her a warm sponge bath, and tuck her in.

She slept the better part of three days.

dd:
Tough trip ... so many stops, GIs from fort, so many assholes with cigars.

s.

dd:
Terrible day ... drunk pinching my ass every time I pass ... couldn't get hold of Dick the whole trip ... he'd make it better ... I miss him so much ... so horny ... fell asleep trying to masturbate last night ... so mad at drunk ... I just want to hurt someone ... I know Munk is waiting ... I want to make him mad ... he's never mad ... I need him to punish me, he's so rough with his cock when he punishes me.

s.

dd:
What day is it? ... I'm not sure ... God what Munk did to me ... he used something his grandfather taught him about ... the sex GOD WHAT SEX ... I wanted it worst then anything I know ... the pain the frustration ... I came when he touched me ... I came when he breathed on me ... I came when he spanked me ... I came when he just looked at me ... I couldn't get enough ... no thought, just feel ... just feel him in control of me ... pulling my strings, pushing my buttons ... making me go were no one else can ... can sex ever be SEX again? ... God help me, I'm so addicted to him.

s.

Postscript:

Just so you won't have to ask, I live in the Midwest outside Kansas City.

If you like anything I've written, please feel free to tell me. I welcome and invite any and all emails.

If you're a lurking sub, please take the next step and Email me. I will be happy to share and will always reply with honesty and openness.

Thanks!

103236.3204@compuserve.com The Munk

Last modified (12/24/96 14:12:42) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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