*************** ADULTS ONLY ***************
The Loveable Ladies of Libido Lane
(C) by Erotin Thraller
*********************************************

Chapter 11 - The Machine

This is Erotin here, as usual, but this story is so different that I decided, 
instead of your getting it second hand, it would be best for Leticia tell it 
herself.  

Scene 1, Awareness

My head was spinning.  I tried to think, but my mind was mushy.  Where was 
I?  What had happened?  And what was that awful smell? 
I remembered the rag.  The smell was in the rag.  It had been pressed against 
my nose.  Tight.  Held over my mouth.  The odor was awful.  Overpowering.  It 
was all I could smell.  I held my breath as long as I could, but I had to 
breathe.  Finally.  And after that... 
Slowly I came more awake.  Where am I?  Wherever I am, there's a new smell.  
A bad smell.  It's musty.  Old.  Damp.  Dismal.  Like a basement.  It's 
dark.  I tried to see, but there was no light.  None anywhere.  Feeling 
around in the dark, I found I was lying on a bed.  At least it felt like a 
bed.  I was on a mattress.  No sheets.  No spread.  Just a mattress.  An old 
mattress, probably dirty because it smelled half-rotten, like it had been in 
the basement a long, long time. 
Straining my eyes, I looked harder, but there was no light.  No windows.  
Just darkness.  And silence.  A terrible, foreboding silence.  I held very 
still, listening carefully.  Nothing.  Not a sound.  I decided I must be 
alone, wherever I was.  So I sat upright and started to swing my legs around 
to get up.  My left leg found the edge of the mattress.  There was a loud 
clank.  Something jerked against my right leg.  Feeling around in the 
darkness, I found my right ankle was chained to the foot of the bed. 
Panic attacked me from within.  What had happened to me since that rag was 
pressed against my face?  What was it?  Drugs?  No.  Ether?  Probably.  I had 
heard that ether could be used to render people unconscious when they were 
being kidnapped. 
Kidnapped?  Is that what happened to me?  Was I being held for ransom?  Or 
worse? 
I tried to remember.  Before the rag... Yes, my name is Leticia, and I was 
going home.  I had just opened my car door.  I had been getting ready to 
leave....  Oh, yes!  There was an argument.  Sam and I had argued.  Sex.  That 
was why we argued.  He wanted sex.  We were lying together on the couch in 
his apartment.  Watching TV.  He had removed most of my clothing.  It had 
been fun, and I had played along with him.  He was naked, too.  It was not 
the first time we had been naked together.  Several times we had explored 
each others' bodies, fingering and fondling each other, and kissing a lot.  
But we had never actually done it.  You know.  IT.  He wanted it.  He said he 
wanted me.  I guess that I wanted him, too, but something held me back.  
Certainly we ought to wait until we were married.  That was only four months 
away.  Then we would really do it.  A nice wedding.  A real honeymoon.  We 
had already put money down on a nice home out on Libido Lane.  We were both 
really excited about our future together.  And I wanted it to begin properly, 
like I had been raised to believe was the right way to begin a marriage.  Not 
Sam.   He did want us to wait before having sex.  He was insistent.  Finally 
I agreed to a compromise.  I jerked him off.  You know, a hand job.  
Actually, to me, it seemed rather messy.  And weird.  But he enjoyed it.  I 
mean he really enjoyed it the first few times I did it.  I even let him put 
his finger up inside me while I massaged his erection.  And I guess I could 
have learned to like it, but soon that wasn't enough for him.  He wanted 
more.  And that was when we argued.  He said he would quit pushing me to 
screw him if I would bring him off in my mouth.  I nearly retched at his 
idea.  It was disgusting.  No way!  I'm not going put his thing in my mouth.  
Why, that thing is what he uses to pee!  It was bad enough hold it in my hand 
and having it squirt all over, but in my mouth?  Let him squirt that gooey 
stuff down my throat?  Gross!  Sickening!  He pleaded.  I refused.  He 
begged.  We argued.  He tried to reason with me.  I got up and pulled on my 
dress.  I simply grabbed my purse and went straight to my car.  Then came the 
rag.... 
My panic returned.  I ran my hands over my body.  Yes, I was still wearing my 
dress.  But that was all.  Then I remembered how I had been so angry that I 
had left Sam's apartment wearing only my dress.  I think I remember stuffing 
my underwear in my purse, but where was it?  Again I ran my hand over my 
body.  All seemed in order.  I decided that at least I had not been abused or 
taken advantage of while I was unconscious.  Apparently, I had simply been 
brought here, chained to this bed, and left in the darkness. 
I felt around on the mattress.  The end of the bed was all I could reach.  
Nothing else.  So I swung my legs to the left and found the chain which bound 
me was long enough for my left leg to touch the floor.  That allowed me to 
sit up on the edge of the bed.  Reaching out into the darkness, I groped 
around, but when I reached as far as the chain allowed, I still could feel 
nothing.  So I stood.  Experimenting.  As much as length of chain would 
allow, I took a couple of steps, fumbling around and feeling.  I found a 
post.  Maybe it was a column, for it seemed to reach from floor to ceiling.  
I felt all around, moving in the half-circle allowed by the chain, but I 
could feel nothing else.  The floor felt slimy and cold, so I returned to the 
bed and sat. 
That's where I was sitting when the spotlight came on.  Without warning, in a 
flash, the bed was illuminated with a brilliant light.  I guess it seemed so 
bright because I had been in total darkness for who knows how long.  I 
covered my eyes to shield them. 
From somewhere in the darkness, the voice spoke.  It was a man's voice.  
Low.  Soft.  Not unpleasant or harsh.  I was certain it was not Sam's voice.  
No, this voice was different.  Under other circumstances, I might have found 
this voice appealing.  Almost seductive.  So soft that I had to strain to 
understand what he was saying.   
Not understanding the first part, I heard him clearly when he asked, "Are you 
comfortable?"  
"Comfortable?"  I exclaimed.  "Of course not!  I'm chained to a bed in some 
awful place, and you ask if I'm comfortable?" 
"Now, now, you must not get all worked up.  You had a nice rest.  And you 
must admit it is quiet here.  There's no sound comes in at all.  Of course, 
that means no sound gets out.  I'm telling you that so you won't bother 
screaming or calling for help.  No one can hear you." 
He still had not come into the light, so I could not see who was speaking.  I 
strained my eyes, but no one was visible.  I could see that I had been 
correct about the bed.  In the light, the bare mattress looked well used, 
although not altogether dirty.  And there was nothing within reach of the 
bed, except for the post, which was apparently a support column for whatever 
building was above this dismal basement.  Then I noticed the ring.  It 
encircled a rod, which was attached to the top of the column, up near the 
ceiling, a rod which ran across the room to another column near the wall.  
There was something about that ring which brought a strange foreboding to my 
still-blurry mind.  I thought of the chain on my leg and wondered about the 
ring and the post.  The possibilities they offered sent shivers throughout my 
body. 
"What ...what do you want?" I asked, even though I was afraid of what the 
answer might be. 
"Do you really want to know?"  He paused, then continued, "Maybe it be better 
just to let things happen.  I'm going to get what I want, regardless of what 
you think.  So you might as well relax and just go along with the flow.  Who 
knows?  You may enjoy yourself." 
I shuddered, partly from the chill of the room, partly from the fear of the 
unknown I was facing.  What terrible ordeal, I wondered, was in the mind of 
this beast who held me captive?  He had me chained to a bed.  That's when I 
realized I was trembling, not from cold but from outright terror. 
"Well?" the voice asked again.  "Do you really want to know what's going to 
happen to you?" 
"No, I guess not," I whispered.  "I just want to go home." 
"Oh, you'll get to do that.  Eventually.  I promise you that.  Right now, I 
want you to stand up." 
So I did, wondering if I was being too obedient.  Perhaps I should argue.  Or 
refuse.  But somewhere I had heard it was best for a kidnapping victim to 
identify with the captor.  Perhaps I could gain sympathy if I cooperated. 
"That's a good girl," he said softly.  "Now turn around and look behind 
you." 
Again, I obeyed, but there was nothing in sight. 
"No, higher up.  Look up.  See the shiny reflection?  That's the video 
camera.  We're recording all that happens.  Later on, if you like, I might 
even give you a copy of the tape." 
That sounded terribly ominous to me, but at least he was holding out hope 
that I would eventually escape from this hellhole, wherever it was.  And 
whatever he had planned for me. 
"Now," the voice continued.  "Keep looking at the camera.  Smile."  He 
paused, then added, "Now, remove your dress." 
"No way!" I blurted out. 
"Oh, but yes you will," the voice said with a laugh.  "You can do it the easy 
way, or I can do it for you.  And if I do it, I assure you that will not be 
nearly as enjoyable for you as it will for be me." 
"Tell me what you want!" I demanded. 
"Did you see that ring by the post near you?" 
"Yes." 
"Which would you prefer ...to have one leg chained to the bed, or have both 
your hands chained to that ring?"  He waited a moment for my answer, and when 
I didn't speak, he said, "Come on.  Make your choice." 
I considered how tiring it would be to stand against that column with my arms 
raised.  I also considered how helpless I would be if he fastened my arms up 
like that.  So I responded, "I'll stay with the bed."  
"All right, you can stay with the bed, at least for now, but to do so you 
must remove your dress."  Again he waited, and when I made no move, he 
snapped, "Do it!  Now!"  
I've always been proud of my body.  It's in good shape, and Sam often says I 
am beautiful.  My breasts are full and erect with just enough sway to make 
things interesting.  My stomach is flat.  My tush, thankfully, is not.  I've 
kept my pubic bush, just trimming it a little to keep it neat.  So it was not 
that I was ashamed of my body that I resisted.  I just didn't want to strip 
in front of a faceless voice.  Not under these circumstances.  Not when 
someone said I must.  Not when I was wearing nothing under the dress. 
"Do it!" he commanded again. 
I looked over my shoulder, up at the post, and at the ring.  Considering what 
might happen if I refused, I decided.  "Oh, all right," I muttered, reaching 
back over my shoulders to grasp my dress, I pulled it up over my head.  
"Roll it up and toss it as far as you can beyond the post." 
I hesitated a moment, knowing if I obeyed it would be beyond my reach.  My 
chained leg would never allow me to retrieve it.  But I obeyed.  And that 
worried me.  I was becoming far too obedient. 
"That's a good girl," the voice said approvingly.  "You're learning." 
"Did I have a choice?" I asked bitterly. 
"Oh, yes," he said.  "You always have a choice.  You can choose the easy way 
or the hard way, but either way I'll get what I want.  Always remember 
that." 
"I will," I assured him. 
"Good.  I'm glad.  It makes my job a whole lot easier, and you will find this 
day will be a lot more pleasant for you."  He paused a moment before he 
continued, "Now that you have undressed, we can proceed to the next step.  
Would you like to see what's next?" 
"Uh, I guess so," I admitted. 
"Good.  I want you to turn around and sit on the edge of the bed."   
I did, and that's when finally he materialized out of the darkness, slowly 
coming into the light.  At first he appeared like a headless body.  Then I 
realized he was wearing a black leather mask which covered his entire head.  
That's all he wore.  There were holes for his eyes and for breathing and 
speaking.  Other than the mask, he was naked.  His body was muscular, well 
built.  He was certainly much larger and stronger than Sam.  And his erection 
was spectacular.  No, it was absolutely enormous, so large it was actually 
grotesque.  Never had I seen a penis so large.  And I got a really close look 
at it, for he came across the room and stood right in front of me.  Close!  I 
had to lean back to keep from being poked in the face with that huge, erect 
member. 
"Suck me," he ordered.  "It's time for you to drink some man milk." 
"Never!" I screamed, remembering how Sam and I had argued over oral sex like 
that.   
"Open up," he demanded.  "Take it into your mouth and suck." 
"You can not make me do it.  If you try to make me do it I'll bite you!  I'll 
bite off your thing." 
"Yes," he laughed, "I bet you would try.  Well," he added, backing away, "I 
told you we can do this the easy way. Or the hard way.  I guess you have 
chosen the hard way." 
He was doing something behind his back, but I couldn't see what it was.  Then 
came that odor.  It was the same smell as before.  Maybe the same rag.  He 
pressed it against my face, and it became the same... 
My arms ached.  They were raised high above my head.  I tried to lower them, 
but they were fastened tight.  My feet could scarcely reach the floor so that 
I was, in fact, standing on my toes.  Then, as my head began to clear, I 
remembered the ring.  Looking up, I could see that indeed my hands were 
pulled high, nearly to the ceiling.  Both my hands were grasping the ring, 
and tape was wrapped around them so that I could not release it.  I looked 
around, then down.  Horrified, I realized I was naked.  That's when I 
remembered removing my dress.  Stupid!  Why had I done that?  Why had I 
obeyed that voice?  The fog was slowly clearing from my brain.  I remembered 
taking off my dress so I would not be tied to the ring.  Yet, here I was, 
totally naked, and tied up to it anyway.  I promised myself I would remember 
that.  Whatever this guy demanded, I would refuse.  Whatever he threatened, 
he would probably go ahead and do anyway, regardless of my willingness or 
cooperation with his demands.  I would defy him all I could. 
I stretched upward, thinking I might work the tape loose and free my hands.  
Instead, I lost my footing and fell forward.  Not far, for my hands were held 
tight to the ring.  But the ring slid a short way across the rod, making a 
loud scraping sound. 
"Ah, so you're coming around, are you?" 
The voice was back.  I shuddered, wondering what horror I would face next. 
"I took off my dress," I began, "so you would not fasten me to this ring, but 
you went and did it anyway." 
"Oh, don't complain," said the voice.  "You made the choice when you refused 
to obey me." 
"But I did obey.  I took off my dress." 
"Yes, and that was a good start.  I thought you were going to be a good 
girl."  He paused, then continued, "But instead you clammed up.  You decided 
that all you would use your mouth for was to talk.  There are other better 
ways to use those lovely lips.  You will learn how to do that while you're 
here.  But for now?  Well, you made your choice?   Remember?"   
I did.  But I resolved that was the way it was going to be.  I would stand 
here all night, if I had to, because no way I was going to put his big thing 
in my mouth.  If I wouldn't do it for Sam, then there was absolutely no way I 
would do it to a total stranger, especially one who kidnapped me, stripped 
me, and now had me tied up in some dismal basement.  No way!  Not at all.  
Never!
"You know, lady, you're really quite attractive.  Many might say you're 
downright beautiful.  Especially naked, like you are now.  I'm glad I'm 
getting this on video." 
He came over to me, and I couldn't help but shudder as he ran his hands over 
me.  He began in the small of my back, then traced one hand around in front, 
across my stomach, then upward.  Taking one of my breasts in each hand, he 
squeezed them.  For a moment, I was afraid he would hurt me, but he was quite 
gentle, surprisingly so.  He traced one hand downward across my skin, poked 
lightly at my navel, then on down over the swell of my belly.  For a few 
moments he twirled a finger amidst my pubic hair, and then he reached 
underneath and groped around the folds between my legs.  I tried to squeeze 
my legs together, but in the process once again I lost my balance.  He 
stepped back. 
"Why don't you dance for me?" he asked. 
"No," I refused. 
"Oh, I really think you ought to dance for me.  And the camera.  Remember the 
video?" 
I remained silent, defiantly. 
"Okay," he said, "just to teach you to do as I say, I'll tell you once again 
to dance for me." 
"How can I with my hands tied up like this?" 
"Oh, good dancers often raise their hands above their heads.  It accents the 
body, and you really have a beautiful body.  You should use it more.  So I'm 
telling you only one more time:  Dance!" 
Stubbornly, I remained still.  And silent. 
"Oh, by the way, my dear," he said.  "Did you happen to notice the carpet 
beneath your feet?" 
Automatically, I looked down.  It was not really a carpet.  But there was 
something on the floor.  It ran directly beneath the bar, from the column to 
the wall.  Even if the ring were to slide along the bar, I would still be 
standing on the carpet.   
"It's a metallic pad, in case you're not familiar with such things," the man 
laughed mischievously.  "It's hooked up to an electric current, which I can 
control with this little dial."  He paused, as if to let this information 
soak into my still-foggy mind.  After a moment, he continued, "Now, are you 
certain you don't want to dance for me?" 
Remembering my resolve not to cooperate with his demands, I continued to 
remain silent. 
"All right, lady," he said slowly.  I watched as he reached for the dial on 
the little box he was holding.  He turned it only slightly.  Immediately I 
felt the tingling in my toes.  And also in my hands, where I grasped the 
ring.  He was going to electrocute me!   
"Don't worry, my dear," he laughed.  "I'll not kill you ...just give you a 
little shock.  And when it gets too uncomfortable, all you have to do is lift 
your feet, kick up your heels, and dance."  After a moment he said, "Well, go 
on.  Try it."   
He turned the dial a bit more.  I felt the current surge through my body.  
Especially through my toes.  There was the crackle of electric sparks around 
my feet.  Automatically I responded by lifting them up off the pad.  The 
relief was instant, as soon as the connection was broken.  The sparking 
stopped, but I couldn't hold up my feet for very long.  My arms were already 
tired from being tied up in this awkward position.  As soon as I sagged back 
downward, my toes made contact with the pad, and the sharp crackling began 
again, as sparks jumped from the pad to my toes.  Each shock hurt, burning my 
feet.  I jumped, jerking my feet up and away, swinging again from my arms, 
but as I swung back again my feet touched the pad, and once more the 
crackling came.  The sharp pain of electrical sparks on my toes seemed 
unbearable.   
Apparently I screamed and jerked away.  That's when I realized he was 
applauding.  Laughing and clapping, and saying, "Go, girl.  Go!  Dance for 
me!  Dance!" 
If he wanted to call my desperate lunges dancing, then so be it.  I was 
merely trying to keep off the electric pad, but doing so put a terrible 
strain on my arms.  Much too quickly I tired, so much that eventually I was 
spending more and more time in contact with the pad as the current surged 
through my body.  The pain was excruciating.  My breasts bounced.  My nipples 
hardened.  My eyes blurred.  My nose ran.  My clit also hardened, and I could 
feel my female juices running down my legs.  Or had I simply voided my 
bladder of pee?  I jerked upward again.  The crackling sparks snapped again 
against my toes. 
"Had enough?" the voice asked.  "Would you like me to turn it off?" 
"Please...," I begged.  "Please."  And then it all stopped.  The electric 
current was gone.  Thankfully, I allowed myself to hang limply from my overly 
tired arms, giving them as much relief as I could by trying to put my weight 
on my feet.  It was such a relief to have the electric current stop.  I 
gasped for air. 
Once more he was standing before me.  I looked down, and there was his huge 
erection.  He stepped up close to me, and I felt the stiffness of his rod 
against my stomach, against my legs, against the very entrance between my 
legs.  I pulled away. 
"Oh, don't worry," he said reassuringly.  "I'm not going to rape you.  I just 
want you to feel what I have in store for you.  Remember?  You are going to 
take my little friend into your mouth and make him feel real good.  You will 
lick him and suck him until he produces man milk.  Do you hear?  Are you 
ready now to do that?  Or do you want to dance for me a little while 
longer?" 
"Neither!" I snapped at him.  "I want you to let me go.  Let me out of 
here!" 
The electricity surged abruptly through my feet.  Never had I felt so much 
pain.  This time I was too weak to lift my feet, even to avoid the 
connection.  My body convulsed in terrible spasms.  My entire body 
stiffened.  My back arched.  I gasped for breath.  Then the smell returned.  
It was that same smell...  That same rag was against my face...  
Scene 2, Invaded
The bed was too short.  I was lying on my back, and I was very 
uncomfortable.  When I tried to move my arms, I couldn't.  My legs would not 
move either.  Slowly my head cleared.  My eyes began to focus, and I could 
see my knees were raised with my feet pulled up tight to my hips.  My hands 
were grasping each ankle.  My fingers were bound around each ankle by duct 
tape.  When I tried to raise up, I realized there was tape around both arms, 
just below my shoulders, holding me firmly down against the bed.  My feet 
were able to move a little, enough I realized they were resting on the very 
end of the bed.  That's how I learned this was not the same bed.  This one 
was short.  In fact, it was like a doctor's examination table.   
"Oh, good," the masked voice said, as he appeared out of the shadows.  
"You're awake.  Remember that I told you we could do this the easy way or...  
Well, anyway, you made your choice when you refused to do what I told you.  
Like I said before, you are going to have to learn to take orders." 
He stepped up to the end of the table, and it was then I realized that my 
position totally exposed my genitals.  Indeed, to keep my arms comfortable, I 
had to spread my knees wide apart, and that opened my private parts wide.  
There was nothing I could do to prevent him from doing whatever he wanted. 
"Oh, in case you forgot during your little nap, it'll do you no good to 
scream.  You may find it feels good to scream, but no one is going to hear 
you but me."  With that, he pulled smaller table up alongside him.  "Now," he 
continued, "let's see if we can help you to enjoy this little exercise.  
After all, we don't want to harm you.  Or do any permanent damage." 
I strained my neck to lift my head, hoping to see what he was doing, but I 
could not.  Then I felt him.  His fingers were warm.  No, the salve was 
warm.  It was some kind of grease.  I jerked when his fingers touched me, and 
then I realized he was coating my labia with the warm salve.  With one hand 
he held open the folds while with the other hand he worked the salve deep 
inside me.  He was very gentle, almost too gentle, I thought, because the way 
he was going at it stimulated me.  It was that provocative.  He was very 
generous with the salve.  I could feel my folds become completely coated, so 
much that it was several moments before I realized he had inserted at least 
two of his fingers deep inside me.  Pushing even more of the salve up inside 
me, coating the inner linings of my privates completely.  Softly he said, "We 
don't want to irritate your tender flesh any more than is really necessary." 
Sam had toyed with me like that previously, but he had never been so 
perfectly gentle.  Nor had he used any lubricant.  His hands had been rough, 
and I had resisted, not feeling anything but frustration.  And pain.  This 
time, in spite of my fear and anger and humiliation, I found myself 
responding to the touch of this masked man.   
"Relax," he said softly.  "Enjoy the feeling.  And just in case you're 
worried, I assure you once more that I am not going to rape you.  At least, 
technically, I'm not."  He paused as he wiped his hands on a towel.  
"However," he continued, "my plastic friend here is going to do the honors." 
He held up a plastic dildo, bringing it up very near my face, close enough 
that I could see it.   
"Feel how soft it is," he laughed, rubbing it against my cheek.  "It's 
pliable.  It's gentle.  It won't hurt.  So relax ...and enjoy."  With that, he 
resumed his position between my legs and there was nothing I could do to 
prevent his sliding the dildo inside my lubricated slit.  It was larger than 
his fingers had been, but I was so well greased that it went right on in.  I 
caught my breath when I realized how deep inside me he had pushed that 
plastic penis.  He laughed.  "Now, doesn't that feel nice?"   
I gasped as he slid the artificial penis into me even further.  A sudden pain 
told me that I had just lost my virginity to, of all things, a plastic 
dildo.  He backed it out a bit, not quite removing it.  I wondered if I was 
bleeding, but there was no way that I could find out.  Then he pushed the 
dildo back in, then pulled it out again, in and out, in an out, several more 
times.  Because of the way he had massaged me with his fingers previously, I 
was already quite sensitive.  I couldn't keep myself from responding to the 
probing of this dildo.  My body took control over my brain, and my hips 
raised of their own accord.  My abdomen twisted in response to the movement 
deep within me.   
"Ah, you do like that," he laughed.  "Well, let's keep it going."  But he 
didn't.  All movement stopped, and I raised my head as best I could, trying 
to see.  He was moving the little table up to the end of my bed.  Suddenly, I 
felt something bump against the dildo inside me.  "Ah, that should do it," 
the voice said.  "Hang on.  Here goes."  
There was a soft hum.  The dildo moved ever so slightly ...in, out ...in, out.  I 
could feel it push far up inside me, then retract until it almost pulled out 
of me.  There was something about the movement that startled me, but it felt 
good.  Once again I allowed my abdomen to move in harmony with the plastic 
penis.  As I moved, so did the penis.  The hum increased in volume.  The 
movement became more rapid.  In and out, in and out.  I found my body was 
synchronizing itself with the rhythm of the dildo, and much to my disgust I 
realized I was actually enjoying the feeling.  Never had anything felt so 
good.  How could something feel so satisfying, so good, even while I was 
completely captive?  Was I losing my mind? 
My body took on a life of its own.  My muscles contracted.  How dare my 
feminine hormones take control.  I was a victim.  I was not supposed to feel 
this good.  How dare I enjoy this... this... machine that was probing my 
privates!  But I couldn't control it.  I came!  My hips rolled and bounced as 
I thrust myself against that mechanical raper.  I burst into an orgasm such 
as I had never known.  I came.  And I came again.  And again.  I caught my 
breath.  I gasped for air.  I thrust my pelvis up as I begged for more.  I 
screamed.  I thrust harder.  The machine kept on pumping, in and out, in and 
out.  I came again.  And then, suddenly, I'd had enough.  Stop!  Quit, I 
demanded.  That's enough.  I can't take any more!  But the machine just kept 
pumping that dildo into me ...in and out, in and out.  I was still aroused.  
The machine had stimulated every nerve between my legs.  My clit cried out 
for relief.  My G-spot throbbed and in spite of the pain, I begged for more.  
I held my breath.  Then I came again.  Orgasm upon orgasm burst upon me until 
every muscle in my body ached.  The strained position in which I was bound 
allowed me no room for release, no room to thrash about.  And that dildo kept 
on pumping in and out, in and out.  I kept having one orgasm after another... 
until... finally... I guess I simply passed out.  
Scene 3, Intrusion
I'm falling!  I have to pee!  That's how I felt as my head began to clear.  
Slowly I returned to reality.  Never had I ever felt so uncomfortable.  My 
shoulders ached.  My breasts hurt.  When I tried to move, I realized my 
breasts were compressed against the bed.  I was on my knees, so I pushed with 
my hands and raised myself to relieve the pain, only to realize that I could 
not move my hands.  No wonder I felt I was falling.  I was kneeling crosswise 
on the exam table with my hands taped to a railing low down on the side of 
the bed.  My head was hanging down over the edge of the table.  My knees were 
drawn up under me; at least, they would have been had they not been spread 
wide apart so that my naked bottom was sticking up in the air.  Anyone on the 
other side of the table would have a clear view of my crotch and easy 
access....  I tried to move, but the tape on my ankles held my legs immobile.  
By pushing my elbows down against the edge of the table, I could lift my head 
and shoulders only a few inches.  That was the only movement possible for 
me.  Several times I experimented with this movement until I determined I was 
not actually going to fall, but it was such a strain on my arms and neck that 
it tired me out after just a couple of tries.  Finally, I simply collapsed 
back on to the edge of the table.  That's when I realized I really did have 
to pee! 
With my rear end raised high in the air, much higher than my head, there was 
no way I was going to release my bladder.  Not and let urine run down all 
over me.  Why, it would probably even run down onto my face!  But how long 
could I hold it? 
"Well, I see you're coming back around."  There was that voice again.  The 
masked man was back.  "Are you comfortable?" 
"You know I'm not!" I snapped.  "Why are you doing this to me?" 
"Remember what I told you earlier?  I'm going to get what I want.  And you'll 
either do it the easy way, or I'll do it the hard way.  Your choice.  So 
far," he laughed, "you've chosen the hardest way possible." 
"I assume that's what you really wanted anyway.  Otherwise, you would not 
have had all this equipment stuff ready to use on me." 
"Oh, I'm always ready," he laughed.  "The question now is how ready are 
you?" 
"For what?" I demanded.  "How ready am I for what?" 
"For this," he laughed. 
Raising my head, I looked up.  There it was.  Just like before.  Huge and 
erect.  Gross and awful.  Protruding from its hairy base, it stuck up toward 
my face with its one eye open.  No wonder he had me bound in this awkward 
position.  My mouth was perfectly in line with his enormous cock.  He held it 
between two fingers and flipped it back and forth, causing it to touch my 
nose, my cheeks.  Then he traced it along the line of my clenched lips.  A 
bit of moisture dripped from the opening.  The smell was musky, strong, 
overpowering.  I couldn't move away, but I turned my head as much as I 
could. 
"Well, go on," he demanded.  "You can move enough to reach it.  So go ahead.  
Raise up!  Take it in your mouth.  Suck it."   He continued to diddle his 
erection in front of my face. 
"No-ooo!" I gasped, lowering myself back down to the table, ducking my face 
toward the table, trying to put distance between me and that awful thing he 
was pressing at me.  "No, I won't." 
"All right, then we'll do it the hard way," he sighed.  "Just remember.  You 
made your choice."  Then he moved away.  A moment later I realized he was 
behind me.  I raised my head and twisted my shoulders, attempting to see what 
he was doing, but there was no way I could strain far enough to see him.  
Then I felt his hand touch my hip. 
"Listen," I demanded, "I really have to pee!  Please don't make me do it in 
this position." 
"Oh, you really don't have to pee," he laughed.  "You've had nothing to drink 
for several hours, so I doubt you have much in your bladder.  What you're 
feeling," he added, "is this."   
Something moved within me, and I understood.  And screamed.  The pressure on 
my bladder was not urine.  I had something in my rectum.  It was...  Oh, no!  
He had inserted the dildo deep inside me.  Not in my vagina, as it had been 
earlier.  Now it was inside my butt.  He must have inserted it while I was 
unconscious.  I licked my lips, tasting the remnants of the ether.  He must 
have used it on me while I was passed out, keeping me unconscious long enough 
to move me around on the table.  And put that awful thing inside me.  Now 
here I was, taped down in this awkward position.  I hurt all over. 
He twisted the dildo and slipped it part of the way out.  The pressure on my 
bladder eased a bit.  Then he pushed it back in, farther this time.  It was 
such a surprise that I screamed in spite of myself.  It was not that it was 
all that painful.  It was just that I had never felt anything like it.   
"Well, you do have feelings in there, don't you?" 
"You're disgusting!" I retorted.   
"And you're beautiful," he replied.  "You have two beautiful ports-of-call 
opened up here for my inspection.  Here, let me show you."  I twisted again, 
trying to see over my shoulder, but then I realized it was a figure of 
speech.  I was not to see anything, but to feel it.  He completely removed 
the dildo from my anus and almost as quickly inserted it in my vagina.   
"Oh, that hurts!" I cried.  "Don't do that.  It's sore!" 
"Yes, you did get quite a workout, didn't you...  It was lovely watching your 
orgasmic revelry.  Hopefully you enjoyed this little friend.  But that's 
enough for there right now."  Without warning, he pulled on the dildo, which 
emerged with a squishy pop.  I realized I was still coated with lots of gel 
or grease.  Or maybe he had added more.  Then I felt him push the dildo 
against my rectum.  My muscles contracted automatically, trying to reject the 
intrusion, but he had lubricated me too well.  The dildo slipped on in, and I 
felt the pressure on my bladder return as he pushed that plastic penis deep 
inside me.  This time he held it firmly in place.  Something bumped the 
table, and a moment later I heard that familiar hum begin. 
"Oh, no!" I cried, "Not that machine!  Not again!" 
It was.  He had re-attached the dildo to the machine, and it was once again 
sliding back and forth inside my rectum.  I tried to pull away from it, but 
my hips would not move that far.  I pushed back, thinking I could dislodge 
the machine and pull myself free, but there was no use.  Instead, it pumped 
away, in and out, in and out... 
"I'll leave you for awhile and let you enjoy yourself.  I'm told some women 
can actually have an orgasm when their rectum is being screwed.  Maybe you'll 
be lucky.  If not, remember you chose to do it the hard way.  And sooner or 
later you're going to suck me off.  Sooner or later, you're going to drink my 
man milk.  I guarantee it.  So think about that while you enjoy the 
machine." 
This time there was nothing erotic about my predicament.  Previously, when 
the machine had pumped away on my vagina, I had found myself responding, 
actually thrusting with the beast.  The memory of  the orgasms I had 
previously experienced came back to me, but this time there was simply 
massive discomfort.  And pain.  When he inserted the dildo into my colon, it 
had hurt really bad.  I wondered if any serious damage had been done.  I 
recalled hearing how girls who had been gang-raped sometimes were torn up 
inside.  I really needed to be in a hospital right now, not tied to a table 
with a plastic dong machine surging in and out of my rectum!   
My thoughts were interrupted by the discomfort of my breasts.  Trying to get 
away from the machine in my bottom, I pressed my chest hard down on the 
table, and that brought the pain.  So I raised myself as best I could on my 
arms, trying to relieve the pressure, but my shoulders were aching so much I 
couldn't hold myself up for more than a few seconds.  Oh, I was tired.  And 
sore.  And cramped in this awful position.  And all the while that machine 
kept pumping in and out, in and out.   
Something tickled my stomach.  I flinched.  There it was again.  Only now it 
was near my navel.  Then I realized the greasy lubricant he had smeared on my 
bottom had liquefied and was now becoming a little rivulet.  It was running 
downhill and, because I was in this awful position with my butt hiked high in 
the air, the grease was proceeding from my navel down toward my breasts.  If 
it continued, it would soon reach my collarbone, then my neck, and drip off 
my chin.  I could smell my own juices blended with the aroma of the 
lubricant.  Here was yet another odor adding itself to this horrible 
experience.  But these momentary distractions could not hold my attention 
very long.  The machine kept pumping away on my bottom, in and out, in and 
out.  How could I forget that? 
Then I remembered the camera.  He had said he was video taping all that 
happened.  And he had turned me around so that my bottom was pointed up right 
at the camera lens.  How humiliating!  And how painful. 
By then I had lost all sense of time.  How long I had been here?  How many 
times had I been knocked out with ether?  How long had I been unconscious 
each time?  How long had that infernal machine been pumping inside me?  How 
long must I endure this?  What is going to happen to me? 
I screamed.  Again.  Over and over again.  Finally I totally collapsed. 
Scene 4, Resolve  
The smell of ether clung to my nose.  My head was beginning to clear.  I was 
back on the mattress.  Lying on my back.  Everything was dark.  All my 
muscles ached.  Slowly I tried to move.  My hands were free.  The chain was 
back on my right leg.  I ran my hands over my body and was surprised how 
clean I felt.  All the grease was gone.  Apparently while I was unconscious I 
had been bathed.  That's nice, I thought.  Had I been awake, that might have 
been something I could have enjoyed.  But why?  Was I being prepared for 
release?  Was my captor finished torturing me?  What next? 
"Oh, I see you're awake again," the voice said in the darkness. 
"If you want to call it that," I snapped, then regretted it.  I was sorry not 
only for what had said, but also for how I had said it.  My real fear was 
that he might bring some new plague upon me. 
"I hope you had a good rest.  Once I got you washed off, you slept nicely." 
"Thank you," I replied, as politely as I could muster, inwardly cringing at 
having had my most personal parts inspected and touched so intimately, 
especially while I was unconscious.  That was probably something else he 
caught on the video.  Perhaps, I decided, it was best that it had been done 
while I was unconscious. 
The light came on, and I was once again in the spotlight.  I raised my head 
and looked down at my naked body.  How long had I been naked?  It seemed like 
ages since I had voluntarily removed my dress.  Had I known what was going to 
happen, would I have removed it so readily? 
"Sit up," the voice ordered. 
This time I did not argue.  I pushed myself up and swung my legs to the left, 
the only way the chain permitted.  "Now what?" I asked. 
"Stand up." 
I did, slowly, carefully, bracing myself against the foot of the bed.  
"Look over here," he instructed.   
There was a little table.  On it sat a small motor with a belt which turned a 
contraption attached to a long rod.  Attached to the rod was the plastic 
dildo he had showed me earlier.  I couldn't believe he had actually rubbed it 
against my face.  And this must have been the very tool which had pumped 
inside me for who-knows-how-long.  This was the plastic beast which had 
robbed me of my virginity.  That seemed like ...we.., it must have been hours 
ago. 
"It doesn't look any worse for wear, does it?" the voice said, still hidden 
somewhere in the dark.  "Apparently it can take a lot more than you, my 
dear." 
"Apparently," I agreed. 
"Now, the question is this:  Do you want some more?" 
"Pardon me?" I asked. 
"Do you want to suck me off?  Or do you want to spend more time riding my 
little machine?" 
"I'm too sore to do that any more," I complained.  "Please don't make me do 
this." 
"It's your choice ...the easy way or the hard way." 
"Let me get this straight," I bargained for time.  "If I refuse, you're going 
to stick that thing back inside me.  Correct?" 
"That's right.  I think I could put it back in where we first started.  
You've probably had enough rest that you could enjoy a few more orgasms." 
I shuddered, knowing I was still extremely sore.  If he did put that dildo 
back in me, it might truly damage me.  So I asked, "But what do I get... if I 
agree to... to... do your thing?" 
"If you 'do my thing,' as you call it, and you do it right, you'll be 
rewarded with a big mouthful of man-milk, and I imagine that could taste 
really good right now, because you're probably getting mighty thirsty after 
all this time.  Am I right?" 
"Oh, I'm thirsty, all right, but that's not my idea of something good to 
drink." 
"Lady, that's my only offer ...milk me in your mouth or I'll put you back on 
the machine and watch you bounce to its rhythms.  What'll it be?" 
By then, the pain had defeated me.  All fight was gone out of me.  Hating 
myself for what I was about to co, I finally agreed.  "Okay, okay.  I'll do 
whatever you say."  
"You're sure?" he asked.  "I don't want you to start something and not finish 
it.  And if you bite me, I'll put you on that machine and leave you here 
until next week.  You understand?  I'll put it in you and let it run until 
you're completely reamed out raw and bloody." 
"I understand." 
"Deal or no deal?" 
"Deal."  I was trembling all over, unsure if I could actually do what I was 
promising.  My legs were shaking so that I sat backward on the bed. 
He came out of the shadows, and I watched him approach.  I wondered how he 
looked under that mask, because the rest of him was really quite handsome.  
This time, perhaps because of my forced decision, his giant erection seemed 
less grotesque than before. Yes, I decided, it was because I had made my 
decision.  I had caved in to his desires.  Sucking him would be easier than 
taking that awful machine.  So I agreed to do the deed I had refused to do 
even for Sam, even though I loved Sam and enjoyed what he did to me.  So now, 
here I was, trying to save myself additional pain by agreeing to... 
It was time.  He was standing there, right in front of me.  I tried to 
convince myself it would not be as horrible as I had thought.  He placed his 
hands on my shoulders and pulled me forward.  I opened my mouth and took the 
head of his member between my lips.  It was hard, yet pliable.  It tasted a 
little salty, but not unbearably unpleasant.  I backed away, but he pulled me 
forward again.  This time I used my tongue to lick the shaft, then the head, 
and finally opened my mouth again wide enough to accept him deep inside.  
That's when I realized I really didn't know what to do next.  He was inside 
my mouth, but what was I to do? 
He said, "Go on." 
I leaned forward, slipping him in and out of my mouth a couple of times, 
experimenting.  Then I remembered the machine, how it had thrust into me.  I 
pretended this rod in my mouth was that machine, and it was pumping in and 
out of my mouth.  I wondered if that's where he would have inserted the 
machine if I had refused to do as he said.  I wondered if I was doing what he 
wanted of me.  Then I heard him gasp.  It appeared I was doing something 
right, so I moved my head up and down on his shaft faster, harder, sucking to 
get more pressure, running my tongue around and around, and all the while 
kept him going in and out of my mouth.  In and out, in and out.  He was the 
machine.  And I was...  No!  That's when it dawned on me.  He was not a 
machine.  He was a man.  A mere man.  And I could wear him down.  I was the 
machine.  I could outlast him.  This time I would win.  He would cave in.  
Once he climaxed, his erection would wilt.  Shrink.  Collapse.  And I would 
have conquered him.  It would be like I had castrated him.  Emasculated him.  
Then I would be the winner.  I would beat him at his own game.  I was the 
machine.  I would make him come.  Explode.  Squirt.
He did.  In my mouth.  I gagged a bit, but I was expecting it.  I had looked 
forward to it, and I knew something of what to expect since I had seen Sam 
spurt when I did him by hand.  This was different.  I felt him come inside 
me, and I felt the rhythms of his contractions, the thrusting as he expelled 
the thick fluids.  My mouth filled as he ejaculated, but I refused to 
swallow.  Some ran down my chin, while I continued to pump, in and out, again 
and again, until I felt his erection soften.  A brief moment later he was 
flaccid and limp.  His erection was gone, and it fell from my mouth, spent, 
shrunken and totally useless. 
My energy was spent too.  Everything was spinning as I fell backward on the 
bed.  My mouth was still full, and I gagged, but I was too tired to lift 
myself.  The only way to dispose of it, at least the easiest way, was simply 
to swallow.  I gagged.  It went down.  Then I ran my tongue over my lips, 
realizing that, for the moment at least, my thirst was quenched.  My mouth 
was no longer as dry as it had been.  There was quiet.  My body began to 
relax.  Deliberately, I tried to turn off the memory of what I had just 
done.  Instead, I pondered what might be next.  What more could this monster 
do to me?  He promised not to rape me, but what else could one call what that 
machine had done?  At least, I thought, I was not going to get pregnant from 
a machine rape.  That's the last thing I remember thinking. 
Scene 5, Hunger
As I awoke, I was surprised by how soft the light was.  The bright spotlight 
was gone.  My body still ached.  But I was hungry.  How long had it been 
since I had eaten?  I was so terribly stiff.  And sore.  I ran my hands over 
my naked body.  Yes, I was still naked.  And one leg was still chained to the 
bed.   
"Well, good morning," the voice spoke from the shadows.  "You took quite a 
little nap."   
"I guess," I replied.  "Although I'm surprised I could sleep under these 
conditions."  
"Oh, you can get used to anything," he told me.  "In fact, that's what I'm 
going to prove to you." 
It came back to me then.  I remembered what I had done to him before falling 
asleep.  Turning to look at him, I saw he had a partial erection.  Turning my 
head, however, brought pain, and I realized how stiff I was.  How long, I 
wondered, have I been confined here?  Is anyone looking for me?  Probably 
not.  Sam will be waiting for me to apologize, so he won't call.  And there's 
no one else. 
The aroma of food prompted me to look around.  There was a small table at the 
bedside.  On the table were grapes, an orange, a large hamburger, and 
chocolate cake.  Quickly I pulled my legs around and sat up on the edge of 
the bed.  My stomach lurched within me, and the food looked so good. 
"Is this for me?" I asked, thinking that perhaps this was the beginning of 
something better for me.  Maybe this man, whoever he was, would take care of 
me. 
"It's all for you, little lady."  He gave me a crooked smile.  "But it comes 
with a price." 
"A price?" I asked.  Something deep within me knotted up.  "What kind of 
price?" 
"You can have any one of those items on the table," he explained, "the cake, 
the burger, the grapes or the orange.  Just one item.  Your choice. " 
That was a no-brainer.  "I'll take the hamburger," I said, reaching toward 
the table. 
"Hold it, lady!"  He slapped my hand away.  It was the first time he had 
struck me, and while it did not really hurt, the mere fact that he struck me 
brought a new level of fear.  "You see, you can have all the food on the 
table, but each item has a price." 
"You said that before.  So what's the cost?" 
"If you want the burger, you have to suck me off."  He grinned.  "You'll 
notice there's nothing to drink on that table.  That's because you'll get 
plenty to drink.  You get to drink man-milk.  Mine!  And I get to enjoy your 
milking me dry every time you want something to eat."  He stepped up close to 
me.  "Now, you said you want the hamburger.  All right, start sucking."  With 
that, he pushed his erection toward my face. 
"No, not that again," I screamed.  "I'll go hungry before I do that again." 
"You did it before, and it wasn't so bad.  Now was it?" he asked. 
"That was a mistake.  I was tired and hurting.  That's why I gave in." 
"So now that you're rested you're too good to have a little fun?" 
"Putting your thing in my mouth is not my idea of fun." 
"Well, I guess," he said slowly, "I guess we will just have to make it more 
appealing." 
I looked up at his face, hoping to understand his implications.  Then came 
that awful smell I had come to despise.  "Oh, no," I thought.  "Not again."  
That's all I remember.  
  
Slowly I faded back to reality.  It was not that I woke up.  I simply became 
slowly aware of my surroundings.  I was lying on my back on the bed.  
Everything was the same, it seemed.  As in the past, I ran my hands over my 
body to make sure all was right.  That's when I found the belt around my 
waist.  It held a leather strap between my legs.   
"What's that?" I asked, speaking out loud without really thinking. 
"That little belt is to hold your equipment in place, just in case you try to 
remove it." 
"Remove what?" I asked, starting to sit up.  With that movement, I realized 
there was something inserted in my bottom.  The dildo was back.  No, there 
were two of them.  One up my rectum.  Another filled my vagina.  And that 
strap held them inside me.  Gross, I thought.  That monster was busy while I 
was unconscious.  And he's taking mighty big liberties with my private parts 
when I can't do anything to stop him. 
The smell of the ether was beginning to fade, and once more I caught the 
aroma of the food.  It was still there on the table beside the bed.  My 
stomach growled, and I looked wistfully at it. 
"Hungry?" he asked. 
"You know I am." 
"That's a fresh burger," he smiled.  "I ate the other one and then brought 
you a new one.  You can have it ...as soon as you drink your man-milk." 
"Go suck yourself," I snapped. 
"Oh, I wouldn't say such things if I were you, lady.  Remember what I told 
you at the beginning?  You can do this the easy way or I can make you do it 
the hard way.  And just to show you what I mean, let's do a little 
demonstration."  He picked up what looked like a TV remote and pressed a 
button.  The dildo in my rectum sprang to life, gently vibrating.  The 
sensation was not pleasant, but neither was it painful.  "If that doesn't 
really bother you I can always pick up the speed," he explained.  "And the 
batteries will last for several hours." He pressed another button, and the 
vibrations suddenly became more violent.  Too much for me to remain seated.  
 
I lay back on the bed, mostly to take the pressure off my bottom.  "Stop!  
Please, stop," I pleaded. 
"All right," he laughed.  Immediately the vibrator stopped.  I caught my 
breath and tried to relax.  "Now, just to finish our little demonstration," 
he continued, "I can also do this."  With a jerk, the vibrator in my vagina 
began to surge and shake.  Still tender from the previous intrusion of the 
dildo machine, the vibrations brought more pain than pleasure.  But I quickly 
realized that the vibrator was positioned within me just right to produce an 
eventual erotic effect.  I would not be able very long to ignore this 
stimulation, in spite of my pain.  My body would respond.  And obviously the 
end result would be additional pain. 
"Enough for now," he said, using the remote to stop both vibrators.  "So much 
for our little demonstration."  He came back up close to the bed and pulled 
me up to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.  His erection bounced 
near my face, as if eagerly awaiting my attention.  "Are you ready for man-
milk now?" 
"Forget it!" I snapped, almost without thinking.   
The vibrator began to bounce about in my vagina so violently that I was 
thrown backward on the mattress.  I spread my legs, attempting to relieve the 
pressures I felt within me. 
"Well, isn't that pretty!" the voice said above me.  "I do so enjoy the 
benefits of my job.  Not only do I get you to suck me, but I get to watch 
your orgasms."  He stood for a moment without moving, as the vibrations 
continued within me.  Then he turned to leave.  "Have fun." 
I fought the feelings all I could, but the vibrations were wearing me down.  
Or maybe I should say they were working me up.  Though I struggled against 
it, mentally trying to remain in control, but my body soon began to move with 
the rhythms of the vibrator.  My juices began to flow.  An orgasm began deep 
within and spread on down through my hips, then surged upward into my 
crotch.  I felt my legs flailed about for something to grip against, to 
strain, to push.  My hips rose from the bed, and I thrust, and thrust, and 
thrust.  As before with the machine, however, there was no relief.  The 
vibrations continued without stopping.  And I came.  Again.  And again.  Wave 
after wave of erotic emotion rolled through me.  I became weak.  Having gone 
so long without food, my stamina could not handle such effort very long.  And 
when the next wave immersed me I blacked out. 
Scene 6, Thirst
Something was different.  I awoke in panic.  My bottom was on fire.  My 
rectum was alive.  The vibrator inside me was pounding away, and the pain was 
intense. 
"Stop!  Quit it!" I shouted.  "Enough already!  Please!" 
"All right," he said, coming toward me.  The vibrations ceased, and all was 
quiet within me.  "Your food is right here, awaiting you, and there's no need 
to endure the vibrators any more.  All you need to do is sit up and drink 
your man-milk." 
He pulled me up into position and pushed his erection at my face.  In sheer 
desperation for survival, I opened my mouth and pulled it in.  He thrust deep 
into my mouth, and I almost gagged as I felt him go all the way to my 
throat.  Suddenly I recalled my previous resolution.  I am a machine.  I can 
outlast him.  Somehow, I turned off my feelings of revulsion.  I began to 
suck, absorbing his thrusts, and sure enough in only a few moments he came.  
His fluids squirted down my throat, and his erection wilted.  I sucked the 
last few drops of fluid from him as he pulled away, and then I caught my 
breath.  A feeling of accomplishment came over me, along with a sense of 
satisfaction that I had actually done it.  I was a machine which outlasted 
the man.  And I was alive.  I was still me. 
"That's a good girl," he spoke gently.  Then he handed me the hamburger.  
"Here.  Enjoy yourself.  You've earned it." 
The food was delicious.  As I ate, I began to realize how famished I really 
was.  All too soon, it was gone.  And I was thirsty.  Then I understood.  The 
meat had been extra salty.  My mouth puckered.  I craved water. 
"Thirsty?" he asked, grinning at me. 
"Yes," I admitted. 
"Well, you can have more man-milk, if you want.  I'll have to admit," he 
laughed, "that it may be hard for me to produce again this quick, so you may 
have to work harder to get man-milk this soon." 
"I'll wait," I told him. 
"So can I," he answered.  Pulling a chair up near the table, he sat. 
"Well, are you just going to sit there and watch me?" I asked. 
"Why not?  You are a very pretty lady.  And I like how you are dressed." 
"Not dressed, you mean.  Whatever happened to my dress?" I asked. 
"It's hanging up right over there."  He pointed to a post across the room.  
Sure enough, my dress was neatly arranged on a hanger.  "It's waiting for 
you, once you learn your lesson." 
"Lesson?  What lesson?" 
"Man-milk.  I know, it's a weird name.  Sometimes it's called jizz, or cum, 
or sperm.  I call it 'man-milk' because it is your nourishment.  Better than 
cow's milk, it satisfies your thirst.  It fulfills your cravings.  It's 
everything you ever wanted to drink.  Better than water.  Better than soda.  
Better than a milkshake.  And you can have it any time you want.  In fact, 
from now on, every time you hear the words 'man-milk' you will reach for the 
nearest erection so you can suck in a supply." 
"You're sick!" 
"No, you're stubborn.  You know what you like.  You like man-milk." 
Rebellion rose within me, and I regretted having touched his erection.  I 
should have held out against him.  I should never have... 
The vibrations began again.  He had pushed the button, and my vagina came 
alive.  I was so tender there that it didn't take much to set off a mixture 
of pain and pleasure which overpowered me.  I fell backward again on the 
mattress.  Almost immediately my hips began thrusting into empty air, 
attempting to reach satisfaction.  There was none.  There was no conclusion.  
He was regulating the speed so that I could not come.  The vibrations left me 
hanging.  I pleaded in pain with him, "Please, let me come!  Please!" 
"Only if you make me come," he replied, rising to stand by the bed.  "Now, 
tell me that you want me.  Ask for man-milk."  He paused.  "Go on, say 'man-
milk.'" 
I struggled against the vibrator, helplessly tearing at the belt holding it 
in place, but it kept bouncing inside me.  I rolled on my side.  My head was 
near the edge of the bed.  He stood there, with a semi-erection, grinning 
down at me. 
"Say it," he ordered. 
Helplessly, I muttered, "Man-milk." 
Immediately, before I could even close my mouth, it was full.  He was inside 
me.  Several minutes passed before I was able to restore his erection.  Then 
I sucked and stroked for what seemed like ages.  Finally, he began to respond 
to my rhythms.  I was already so tired that this time I did not feel like a 
machine.  I was simply a tired-out, suddenly-old woman sucking for her life.  
Sucking to create juices.  Sucking for man-milk.  I wanted it.  I needed it.  
I became desperate.  I increased my speed.  I swallowed his shaft into my 
throat.  I pumped him for all I was worth.
When he came, I held the flow in my mouth, swishing it around, relishing the 
moisture.  I licked my lips and applied pressure with my tongue, making sure 
I acquired all he could produce.  Somehow I seemed that if I had to suck him, 
I needed to get my full reward.  I didn't realize it then, but now that I 
look back on it, that was the beginning of my addiction to sperm, or as he 
called it, "man-milk."   I accepted it for what it was because I truly needed 
it.  I was dependent upon it.
"Oh, that was good," he gasped.  "You're beginning to get really good at 
sucking."  He sat on the chair and smiled, watching as I sat up.  My mouth 
was still full, as I relished the load he had ejaculated.  He watched 
intently as, finally, I swallowed, emptying my mouth of his sperm.  He 
smiled, "You didn't think you could do it, but you did, and you deserve my 
highest compliments."  He paused a moment, then asked, "Now, which do you 
want ...the cake, the grapes, the orange?" 
I had forgotten the food, and only then did I realize there were no longer 
any vibrations within me.  In fact, I was not sure when he had turned them 
off.  I had been so focused on sucking him to a climax that I completely 
tuned out what was going on inside me.  How could that be?  Where was my 
head?  What was he doing to me?  Was I being brainwashed? 
"Well, which do you want?  You do want your reward, don't you?" 
Something spoke within me saying I had already received my reward.  I had my 
man-milk.  Frustrated that I would think that way, it was several moments 
before I could speak.  When I did speak, it was hardly more than a whisper.  
"Orange.  I'll take the orange." 
"Good choice," he said, as he handed me the fruit.  "You need the vitamins." 
The problem was that sucking him off had left me too weak to remove the 
peeling.  Eventually, he took pity on me and peeled the orange, even breaking 
off the slices and feeding them to me.  I sat obediently as he placed the 
orange slices in my mouth one at a time, then waited while I chewed and 
swallowed.  As the juices flowed through me, I almost laughed at the though 
of what a scene this was.  Here I was chained to an old bed, sitting totally 
naked on a bare old mattress, while a monster of a man, who was also himself 
naked, very delicately fed me orange slices.  Who could believe it.  I could 
hardly believe it myself, except that I still felt the pain in my crotch 
where the vibrators had so recently irritated the tissues which had been 
earlier violated by a mechanical dildo.  Why was he doing this to me?  What 
was next?  Would he ever let me go? 
"There's still the cake and the grapes," the man smiled, once I had eaten all 
the orange.  "You can have them whenever you want them, but I suggest you 
give me a few minutes to recover before you ask to suck me any more." 
Ask him?  Did he say "Ask him"?  Why would I ever ask to suck his thing? 
With the orange now all gone, I lay back on the mattress and closed my eyes.  
The stillness and quiet were pleasant, and I had a good feeling in my 
stomach.  The food had refreshed me, and in a few moments I was asleep. 
Scene 7, Submissive
"Wake up!"  The voice echoed through my head.  I was still in a fog.  How 
long had I slept.  Once more I felt about my body.  I still wore the belt.  
My crotch was still stuffed with the vibrators.  My mouth was dry.  "Wake 
up," he spoke again.  "It's time." 
"Time for what?" I asked, stubbornly refusing to come fully awake. 
"Man-milk."  That's all he said. 
Something snapped within my.  Since then I've read about Pavlov's dogs and 
the experiment he performed on them with a bell, teaching them to salivate 
every time he rang the bell.  The term "man-milk" was my bell.  And I was the 
dog.  Without realizing what I was doing, I became obedient to my training.  
Without thinking, I rolled over to the edge of the bed and opened my mouth. 
"What do you want?" he asked. 
"Man-milk," I replied.  "I want my man-milk." 
"Say 'please,'" he ordered. 
"Please," I obeyed.  "Please, may I have my man-milk?" 
"You certainly may, little lady.  Here you are." 
Immediately he stuffed his erection into my mouth, and I began sucking and 
stroking, desperately seeking to acquire his ejaculate.  The compulsion was 
so strong that I did not even think about the vibrators.  There had been no 
need for them.  Nor did he even need to threaten me with them.  I had an 
addiction.  A craving.  I needed him to come in my mouth.  And I was willing 
to go all out to bring him to complete climax.   
"Yes," he groaned.  "Do it.  Do it."  And then he came.  My mouth was filled 
once again with that sweet life-giving fluid.  It was the gift of life for 
me.  I loved it.  I held it in my mouth, not wanting to lose it.  A thrill of 
exultation surged throughout my entire body.  I had done it.  I had brought 
him such satisfaction that he had bestowed priceless his gift into my mouth.  
I had what I needed. 
For several minutes I rolled on to my back and lay still.  Suddenly, I 
realized he was unfastening the belt from my waist.  I held still, wondering 
what was next, almost afraid to move for fear of what he might do to me.  
Then he removed the vibrators.  My vagina felt suddenly empty, and no longer 
did I feel the need to void myself.  He was very gentle, so I held perfectly 
still. 
"This will make you feel better," he explained, and I felt his fingers rub a 
soothing lubricant around my irritated orifices.   
I didn't even object when his fingers probed inside anus and rubbed deep 
within my vagina, spreading the gel.  When I was done, I felt clean and calm, 
refreshed and renewed.  "Thank you," I said. 
"Grapes or cake?" he asked. 
"What?  Oh, the cake, I guess," I replied, not really caring.  Not really 
thinking, though I should have, for when I had eaten the cake I was terribly 
thirsty.  The cake left my mouth very dry. 
"I'm thirsty," I told him. 
"What do you want?" he asked. 
Without thinking, I replied, "Man-milk.  May I have some, please?" 
I'm still surprised that he could produce again so soon.  On the other hand, 
I'm surprised that I had the strength and endurance to bring him to climax 
again, because it seemed to take forever.  By the time he came this time, I 
was totally exhausted.  I gulped his ejaculate, swallowing it as I lay back 
on the bed, and then....   I don't know if I slept or if I simply passed out. 
Scene 8, Understanding
I was sitting up, my head tipped back.  I was comfortable.  As my mind 
cleared, I looked around.  Everything was dark, but not completely.  There 
was enough ambient light to see the steering wheel.  I was in my car.  My 
purse was on the seat beside me.  And I was wearing my dress.  In fact, I was 
in the parking garage where I had left the car when I went to be with Sam 
earlier that...  No, it must have been several days ago.  Everything felt like 
a dream.  How long had it been?  Had I really...? 
Pulling my skirt high on my legs, I ran my fingers between my legs.  The 
soreness I felt quickly confirmed that I had not been dreaming.  I had been 
reamed mechanically.  I might technically still be a virgin, but not really.  
I had not known a man, but I certainly knew what it was like to be had.  I 
had been had hard and long.  And I had given oral sex.  To a man.  Without 
ever seeing his face.  I had sucked him to a climax.  Many times.  I couldn't 
remember how many times.   
Suddenly I felt completely overwhelmed.  I realized I was far too shaky to 
drive.  And I was terribly thirsty.  How long, I wondered, has it been since 
I had something to drink? 
Since I was in no condition to drive home, I thought of Sam.  I wonder what 
he would say if I were to tell him what happened?  If I go there now, would 
he let me in?  Maybe I can get something to drink at his apartment.  Even if 
we did have a fight, I'm sure we can make up.  After tonight, I thought, I 
can handle anything.  Even Sam.  With that, I gathered up my purse, climbed 
out of the car, and headed upstairs toward Sam's apartment. 
He smiled and invited me in when I arrived.  When he saw I was unsteady on my 
feet, he guided me to the couch.  How long, I wondered, had it been since we 
had been there together?  That's where the argument started.  So the couch is 
a good place for it to end, I thought. 
"Please," I began.  "May I have something to drink?" 
"Certainly," Sam replied.  "Just a moment." 
When he returned, I looked up, surprised to see that he was totally naked.  
His erection waved in the air, stiff and hard.  "Want some man-milk?" he 
asked. 
Without thinking, I pulled him to me and swallowed his erection.  I began to 
suck him eagerly.  Then something clicked within my mind.  How did he know 
about man-milk?   
Suddenly, I knew. 
Looking up at him, I caught the gleam in his eyes.  For a brief moment he 
smiled.  Then he screamed.  
I bit down really hard.  Right behind the head of his shaft.  My teeth went 
all the way through.  Blood filled my mouth.  It did not taste like semen.  
That's right ...semen!  I called it by its proper name, for I was cured of my 
brain-washing.  I was free!   
As the elevator doors closed behind me, I could still hear Sam screaming.  

~~~~~
Continued in Chapter 12



  
Chapter 11 - The Machine