Author: Hungry Guy 
Title: JUSTICE FOR ALL
Universe: Kathy
Summary:  Everyone gets their just desserts.
Keywords: M/FFF M/M Mpov Mdom Fsub Msub het gay nc ws copr tort viol humil cbt eunich piv caution
Language: english

JUSTICE FOR ALL 

By Hungry Guy

************
* PROLOGUE *
************

    Five years earlier, Mindy had won the national Powerball lottery.  With her newfound millions, she and Guy had purchased an old dairy farm out in rural western Pennsylvania.  

    Mindy had disappeared from her family when she left to work together with Guy on their mutual fantasy, leaving no trace whatsoever.    

    They renovated the farmhouse, but it was the barn that they were truly interested in.  Its 50 feet by 100 feet footprint was bigger than the lot in New Jersey that Guy's last house was built on.  It stood 30 feet to the base of its gabled roof, then another 20 feet to the peak.  The ground level, which opened to a paddock on one side, they converted to a dungeon, slave quarters, garage, and utility mechanical rooms.  The first floor, which was ground level to the front of the barn facing the homestead, and above, they converted to a luxurious home.

    When the renovations were complete, and the sub-contractors all gone their separate ways, they had a lavish goodbye party for Mindy, just the two of them.

*******************
* JUSTICE FOR ALL *
*******************

    Guy woke with a yawn and stepped out of his king-size bed.  The plush carpeting felt so good under his feet.  He walked across the room and tapped the switch that opened the heavy room-darkening curtains, revealing a panoramic window that overlooked the unspoiled countryside from the third floor.  Not another house was in sight.  His nearest neighbor was two miles away.

    He glanced down at what appeared to be a small table covered by about four heavy blankets in the corner of the room.  Lifting the end of the blankets up, he took in the view of the attractive naked woman within, lying on even more blankets, all scrunched up into a fetal position inside the tiny pet cage.  

    "Good morning, Fuschia," he said cheerfully.

    "Good morning, Master," she answered in a slight British accent.

    "Were you warm enough last night, Fuschia?  I know I keep my bedroom chilly at night.  I can give you more blankets if you'd like."

    "I'm fine, Master.  If anything, it got too warm during the night.  You can take some off."

    Guy removed one of the blankets draped over the cage and folded it up and put it away.  He then saw that her water bottle, hanging from the cage, was empty.  He removed it and unscrewed the cap.  Having just risen, he had a pretty full bladder, so he inserted his dick into the bottle and filled it.  He then screwed the cap back on the bottle and placed it back in the bracket holding it in place on the side of the cage, with the metal tube extending downward from the cap and into the cage.  

    "Drink it while it's still warm, Fuschia," he said.

    "Thank you, Master," said Fuschia as she put her mouth to the tube and began drinking the yellow liquid within.

    Despite the 100 degree August heat wave outside, his air conditioning kept his bedroom at a chilly 65 degrees, Guy's ideal sleeping temperature.

    He stepped into his master bathroom where the independent temperature control kept the bathroom at a warm 75 degrees for showers and baths.  He used the toilet before taking his morning shower.  As he flushed, it simultaneously saddened him and thrilled him to know how his waste was "processed" by his custom-built waste treatment system.

    After his long hot shower, which he could run indefinitely due to the tankless on-demand water heater feeding the shower stall, he made his way to his private study which, like most of the rest of the house, he kept at a comfortable 70 degrees.  

    He turned on his computer, which was connected to a high-capacity trunk line of the type that most Internet providers would split up and use to sell broadband connections to customers.  

    His latest story was getting poor scores on Literotica and Stories Online, but hard-core BDSM stories rarely fared well on either of those two sites.  Yet, the story had earned respectable hits per the ASSTR download count where his fan base was mostly concentrated.  And he had even received some positive feedback from fans, mostly submissive women with secret rape and humiliation fantasies.  

    Checking his email, a new woman answered his personal ad to be his cum sponge.  He answered her, knowing that 99 out of 100 such replies were from wanks or trolls who would never reply again.  At that, he felt a twang of sadness that he'd never again correspond with Mindy.  The few years that he and Mindy spent living together as master and slave while building this house were among the happiest of his life, and he missed her.  Mindy had turned into a good friend and confidant back when Kathy, his love of a lifetime, broke up with him because she found a rich sleazy doctor to be her sugar daddy. 

    "Hmmm," he thought.  "Kathy and her ilk must all be hungry by now."  

    Guy walked out into the main hallway.  The four doors to each of the four master bedroom suites opened into this hallway.  An open stairwell led down to the second floor.  But feeling lazy, Guy took the elevator down to the first floor.  In the kitchen, filled with stainless steel appliances, he toasted a bagel and heated some pre-cooked bacon, and made a sandwich.  A glass of orange juice completed his breakfast, which he carried into the home theater where he watched an old episode of Star Trek on the LCD television that filled the whole wall.

    Then, crossing over into the recreation center, he dove into the heated indoor pool that he kept bathtub-warm.  After swimming a few laps, he soaked in the Jacuzzi for a while, letting the high-pressure jets massage his body all over, then he took another shower to rinse the chlorine off. 

    By noon, he was relaxed and in the mood for some real fun.  He took the elevator down to the ground floor and down a short hallway.  Passing a plate glass window that presented him with a view of his garage.  His Bentley, Rolls Royce, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Porsche, Cadillac, and Hummer were all as he had left them.  Oddly, mixed in was a dark grayish-blue 2005 Chrysler Town & Country minivan with a gash down the passenger side and one flat tire.  Another oddity was a little yellow 1973 Volkswagen Beetle, his very first car, that held a special place in his heart.  Lacking air conditioning, and with persnickety heat, it was drivable only in the spring and fall.  Yet he recalled his college days at O.C.C.C. during one particular blizzard after classes.  All the other guys in their Camaros and Barracudas and Mustangs were spinning their wheels stuck at odd angles along the driveway to the student parking lot behind the Student Commons.  His little bug zig-zagged through the maze of muscle cars onto South Street with ease.  A moment later, he was on Dolson Avenue, passing Playtogs, and heading home.  

    Opening the gray steel door at the end of the corridor, he stepped into the utility room.  The triple redundant air-conditioning systems, each one alone capable of maintaining the whole house at a comfortable temperature, hummed and whooshed in their vigilance.  The vents along the top of the units glowed an eerie blue, indicating that the UV-C filtration system was keeping the air free of mold, fungus, and bacteria.  He took in a deep breath of the pure clean air that his home provided him.

    One of his twin 100-gallon water heaters was gurgling and pinging, showing its age.  He glanced at its service record and figured that it might be getting on the time to replace it.  But no hurry yet.  The many multiple redundancies that he and Mindy had built into this house gave him a sense of confidence and trust.

    He stepped over and leaned on one of the two standby power generators, one powered by the town gas utility, and the other by a fuel oil tank out back.  In a fit of whimsy, he grabbed the EXO switch and killed the power to his home from the electric utility--a full-blown blackout.  The lights never even flickered.  The one generator sprang to life.  He walked over and shut off the master gas valve, killing the generator.  The oil generator sprang to life, again without even a flicker of the lights, thanks to the bank of batteries against one wall.

    Lastly, he stepped over to a large 6-foot tank lying on its side about 4 feet above the floor.  A drainpipe from all the toilets in the house merged above this tank and fed into it from above.  The pipe exiting from under the tank connected to the main house drain and exited the house to the leach fields out back.  A digital display attached to one of the legs on which the tank was mounted glowed in orange numerals: OXYGEN 98%, PULSE 52.  Guy smiled sadly.  The pulse oxymeter strapped to Mindy's finger showed that she was still alive after 5 years of living entirely off of his waste.  The three aquarium air pumps hummed quietly, pumping air through three clear rubber aquarium air tubes into an open pipe end and into the tank, giving Mindy a constant supply of fresh air.  He tested the three spares that he kept on an adjacent shelf, and they all worked well.

    He knew, objectively, that solid waste contains about 25% nutrients and that urine was sterile upon leaving the human body.  As long as he never flushes caustic cleaning chemicals down any of the toilets, there was no reason that Mindy shouldn't live a normal full human life span.

    Guy pictured Mindy in his mind, lying flat on her back on a metal plate welded inside the tank.  Her wrists and ankles strapped tightly in place by metal straps welded to that same plate.  The drainpipe entering from above ended inside her mouth with a strap around her head to prevent her from pulling her head away and removing the pipe from her mouth.  The pipe had a small hole just above her face, covered in screen, to allow excess liquid that she couldn't swallow fast enough to spill out into the tank without drowning her, but forcing her to consume all solids--for she could breathe only when that pipe was empty.  

    But try as he might, he just couldn't imagine what it must be like for her lying there in the dark, hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, subsisting by consuming the sewage that flooded her mouth whenever he flushed a toilet.  After five years totally immobile in absolute darkness, all her muscles must have atrophied, as must have her eyes. 

    He left the utility room back into the corridor and opened a door into a storage room.  Shelves filled the room, piled high with all sorts of clutter that one accumulates from the task of living a life: boxes of old family photos, cherished childhood toys, HO-scale trains for a model railroad empire that he never got around to building, clothing that's still in good condition but no longer fashionable, etc., etc.  

    Pressing the combination on the lock on a door at the far end of the room, he entered a smaller storage room with even more clutter filling the shelves.  

    Then, pressing the combination on another lock on another door at the far end of this second storage room, he entered foyer-type room painted all black.  Opening another door in a perpendicular wall, he stepped into his dungeon and surveyed the scene.

    Over the past few months, he had watched the news carefully for reports of missing people from the Cleveland area.  Of the keywords that he checked for, the only minor news item that he came across was the city of Westlake seeking a new Financial Director.

    Anne was standing with her head clamped into the end of a long metal arm mounted on a pivot such that she could walk around in a large circle.  She looked like she had lost about 100 pounds since becoming his slave.  After another 100, she might start looking like an attractive woman.  Guy really felt no ill will toward Anne, for she was Mangla's victim as much as Guy was.  But each time Guy had gone to Westlake to capture Mangla, Anne was with him.  Such was her misfortune, for Mangla had to face justice for stealing his love of a lifetime.  Yet, Guy didn't feel all that bad for Anne either; after all, she had been in league with Mangla.

    Guy clapped his hands.  "Wake up, Annie!"

    Anne gasped awake as Guy hit the switch to start the motor; the pivot started to turn, forcing Anne to begin her daily exercise regimen of jogging in a continuous circle.  If she faltered, the arm would just drag her by the neck until she caught up again.

    Doctor Pawan Mangla was lying on the floor with Aaron Mizen.  The two men were naked and harnessed together with the most bizarre looking assembly of leather straps, rings, and buckles.  The two men were lying, each with the other's penis in their mouths in 69 fashion.  Also, their arms were each wrapped around the other's body and shackled together.  

    At that moment, Paul began to spasm rhythmically while Aaron suddenly began to struggle and try to pull away.  A moment later, cum began to ooze from Aaron's mouth around Paul's cock.  "Enjoy your meal, skinny faggot," said Guy to Aaron.  While Paul enjoyed his orgasm, Guy walked over to the utility closet and fetched his pooper-scooper, for every morning there was a small pile of excrement on the floor behind each of the two men's asses.  Small puddles of urine also occupied the floor under each man's mouth.

    After mopping the floor around the two men, Guy got a cloth and a spray can of ether.  Spraying the cloth with the ether, he held the cloth to both Aaron and Paul until both were asleep.  Working quickly, he manhandled Paul's limp body upon a stretcher and shackled and belted him down securely.  

    Walking over to the cell that housed Paul's friend, and Kathy's subsequent boyfriend, Mohammed, Guy then knocked Mohammed out.  A short while later, Mohammed and Aaron were harnessed together sucking each other's cocks just as Paul and Aaron were earlier.

    Guy then prepared for surgery.  Wheeling Paul into an impromptu operating room, he removed an assortment of scalpels, clamps, and other medical paraphernalia from his autoclave.  But Guy wanted his patient to be awake and alert during the surgery, so he then walked over to the cellblock.  

    Angela sat on her bunk in her cell.  Guy had no bitterness for Angela either; she was to Aaron what Annie was to Paul: a semi-innocent co-conspirator.  Angela looked up at Guy then looked away.  

    In the next cell, Kathy was shackled spread-eagle to the wall of her cell.  She was a very attractive woman, with a cute face and strawberry blonde hair set in a ponytail.  Her only blemishes were a mangled tattoo above and to the side of her muff, and a hysterectomy scar that ran up from her crotch to her navel.

    Guy opened the autoclave and removed some darts.  "Hey slut!" he called out.  "Wake up!"

    Kathy gasped as he let the dart fly.  It struck her in the belly, for 1 point, evoking a curdling scream from Kathy's mouth and sending a trickle of blood flow down her belly, and down her leg.   

    The next dart hit her in the right breast, evoking another scream, though it missed her areola, scoring 10 points.  

    The third dart scored a bulls-eye, right in her left nipple, scoring 100 points.  Instead of screaming this time, Kathy turned white and fainted. 

    "Hmm," he mused. "111 points.  Not bad."  He jotted the score down in his log and then returned to his patient awaiting his operation.

    "How are you feeling, Paul?" asked Guy.

    "Fuck you, you bastard!" coughed Mangla in a slight Indian accent.

    "Nope!  You're never going to drug up and fuck someone else's girlfriend ever again, motherfucker!  But hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not Board Certified either."  Guy laughed and pulled on a pair of latex gloves.  Guy then wheeled another autoclave up to Mangla and began the operation.  A half-hour later, Paul's crotch was covered with gauze bandages where his penis and testicles used to be.  Guy had inserted a catheter into Paul's urethra so that the patient could urinate while he healed.

    Guy then paused in thought and considered what to feed his slaves today.

    Although Guy sometimes fed his waste to Kathy, Mangla, Aaron, or even Anne or Angela, he had to remember to use the toilets often enough so that Mindy wouldn't die of malnutrition.  So today, he walked over to the stove in the alcove and boiled a large quantity of soup.  

    When the soup was ready, he added some salt and pepper for flavor (Guy wasn't totally without compassion for his slaves) and poured some into several IV looking devices with tubes hanging from underneath them.  

    He took one and hung it from a hook in the ceiling above Kathy, and then inserted the tube into her mouth.  She began sucking the soup as if drinking from a straw.  

    He did the same for Mangla, still lying on the operating table.  

    Then he did the same for Aaron and Mohammed, sliding the tubes into each man's mouth along with the other man's penis.

    Then he stopped the pivot from spinning and forcing Anne to walk in her endless circles.  He attached her soup IP bag to a hook against the outer wall of her walkway.   

    He simply slid a bowl of soup through the door to Angela's cell.

    With the slaves fed, he tapped the combination on the door exiting the dungeon into that black foyer room, then passed back through the storage rooms, back into the basement hallway.  

    He returned to the utility room and glanced at Mindy's stats once again: OXYGEN 98%, PULSE 53.  She must be digesting that toilet flush from this morning.  He flipped the EXO switch back on, and turned the gas back on, letting the generators shut off automatically.   

    He rode the elevator back up to the third floor and into his master bedroom suite.  He was feeling horny by then, so he walked up to Fuschia's cage.  "Feel like coming out to play, Fuschia?"

    "Yes, Master!  I'm so randy right now!"

    Guy laughed.  "You always are, sweet Fuschia!"

    Guy unlocked the cage and brought her into bed.  He tied one of each of four lengths of rope to each of her wrists and ankles, then tied her spread-eagle to his brass bed frame, stretching her arms and legs out tightly.

    "Oh, Master!" she gasped as he mounted her once again with still one more rope in his hand.  "What will you do with that one?"

    Guy wrapped the rope around her neck and pulled it tightly, cutting off her air.  He tied it in a neat bow as he met Fuschia's panic-stricken gaze.  With a smile, he crawled down her body between her legs and ever so gently licked along the seam between her labia without parting it with his tongue.

    Her body quivered slightly to his oral touch, though she remained in choked silence.  Pressing his tongue against the seam with slightly more pressure, he parted her labia with his tongue and licked slowly up over the opening of her vagina to her clitoris and back down again.

    Normally, he would delight in lingering and teasing a woman in this way, but knowing that he had to bring her off quickly before she suffocated, he moved straight away to her clit and sucked the little nub into his mouth.

    Holding it deep in his mouth with the suction of his breath, he licked and flicked the tiny top with his tongue, drinking tiny wisps of her juices at the same time.

    Then, sucking on it like a lollipop, he drew it in and out, and in and out, bringing her ever closer to climax.  

    It seemed odd to Guy for a woman to be so utterly silent at such a time, which only reminded him of the need to act quickly.

    He sucked in and out with greater vigor until, at last, she began bucking with every twitch of his mouth.  What a rush to be in direct control over a woman's orgasm this way!  To be able to play her clit like a trumpet!  

    Mindful of the time, he stopped and climbed up her body.  Her complexion had a tinge of blue, and her eyes were glazed over and failed to focus while she rolled her head from side to side.

    Guy quickly untied the rope.  Fuschia immediately began sputtering and coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

    The danger over, Guy lay upon her and slid his hungry member into her where he had just made her conveniently sopping wet for him to do so.  

    The combined wetness of his saliva and her own feminine juices made for an amply slippery entry, and he slid into her easily.  Sucking on her genitals had already brought him close to his own climax, so he exploded inside her with little effort.  

    At that, the day's exhaustion took over, and he fell to sleep upon her.  

**************
* POSTSCRIPT *
**************

Here's a riddle for you:

Q.  How do you know when Kathy is lying?

A.  Her lips are moving.

Here's another:

Q.  How do you know when Kathy is cheating on you?

A.  She's not with you at the moment.

And here's another:

Q.  How many boyfriends does Kathy have?

A.  You can get that number from the US Census Bureau.  It 
    increases by a few hundred every minute.

    * END *
