Katlin and Missy: ch 2 – Buns In The Oven

Cathy: In this story I try to tell much of the story from a man’s point of view, which is not easy for me. Mark reluctantly finds himself eventually in a position I think most men would love.

ps (to Jon-J): I read your speculation comment at the end of my last story. Well I ain’t admitting nuttin. It’s fun to think there’s a guy out there fantasizing about me. But why didn’t you just send me another e-mail?

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Katlin and Missy: Chapter 2 – Buns In The Oven

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1 Mark:

A sharp pain in the neck awoke me. I couldn’t concentrate, could hardly remember my own name, and it took a while for me to realize that I was cuffed hand and foot and attached face down on a large bed, naked. I imagine there are lots of women who’d find this position exciting. I’m not a female. Nor a pony. The only times I’ve had thoughts about bondage, it was my lover who was tied up.

Once, while I was still married, I had a brief affair with a woman who lived in our neighborhood. She liked mild bondage. But it was just sham, honorary bondage. She’d have me tie her spread eagle to the corners of the bed with men’s dress ties from my closet. She could probably have pulled loose anytime. Not trying was part of the senario. Brenda was a bit of happiness during a booring ten year marriage. She liked things I’d never done with other women. She even suggested them. She was one of the few women I’d had anal sex with and the only one who really liked it.

There was nothing token about the way I was restrained. The cuffs and ropes were for real. I had a ball gag in my mouth, and something stuck in my rear. Like bondage, the anal insert was not something I found exciting. The only thing good about it was it didn’t hurt much, not nearly as much as my neck did. It was probably intended to give pleasure to the sort of people who liked having things stuck up their fannies. I’m sure Brenda would have liked it. She had certainly liked my dick in her asshole.

Someone walked in the room and stopped next to the bed. I started to turn my head in that direction and suddenly again experienced the neck pain, but this time for several seconds. I tried to scream but the ball gag muffled whatever noise I might have made. This hurt so bad I realized the first pain must have lasted only a fraction of a second. I literally saw stars, then nothing. Even though the input had stopped, the after pain was so bad I couldn’t open my eyes for a while.

“Well. Good morning sleeping beauty” said a female voice that could have sounded sexy, but didn’t. “Don’t turn your head until I say you can. First the rules. When we take out the gag, which won’t be soon, you will ask nothing. You will only answer specific questions. If you are ever allowed to talk to other prisoners it will be only in wispers. Understood?”

I couldn’t say anything, and tried to nod my head. But apparently I didn’t respond fast enough. This time the pain in my neck was brief but still intense. I had the feeling she was so eager to “punish” me that she hit her button before realizing that I had done what she wanted. Of course, she never admitted this. Like any man would, I resented this treatment. But I was no kung foo expert. I’d never even been in the military. I hardly knew anything about guns or other weapons and was not likely to fight my way out of this situation. The neck pain was terrible. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I wanted to die, but I certainly didn’t want to do anything to antagonize this sadist. Given a chance I’d have loved to get even.

“You’re angry. You don’t know why you’re here but not happy about it. If you’ve got any balls at all, you’d probably want to kill me for this, and certainly for the things I’m going to do to you. But by the time I’m done, you won’t have any fight left in you. By then you may not be much of a man any more either. Does the prospect of being castrated frighten you? There are other things as well we can do and still keep you alive. By this time next week you won’t even dare think of revenge. For starters, feel this.”

The pain this time was inside my rectum, also brief but it hurt even worse than the neck pain. The thing on my neck was a radio controlled dog collar. I’d seen them in stores. The thing inside me apparently also delivered an electric shock, perhaps no stronger, except that my insides were more sensitive. It felt so bad that I began to think being dead would be better.

“I’m going to turn you over and you are going to be very, very cooperative.”

The operation was complicated, changing where my cuffs were attached one at a time. She was so careful that I was fooled into thinking incorrectly that there was perhaps a possibility of excape. At one point I was facing up and had my right arm free. When she told me to give her my wrist, I gave it to her, fist included. In all probability I wouldn’t have been able to deliver much of a punch with only the one arm free, but I never came close anyway. Of course, it was all a setup. She wanted me to make the attempt just so she could show me how pathetic my chances were of ever hurting her.

She flicked away my hand like it was no more than a fly, and casually slapped me on the chest at the same time, so quick that it looked like one movement. It felt like I’d been hit by a baseball bat and knew she’d broken several ribs. Actually she hadn’t, though she easily could have had she intended to. Clearly she was a kung foo type. I realized when the pain subsided somewhat, that given equal weapons or none, she would make mince meat of me in any situation. I decided later that I wasn’t even sure I could take her out if I were armed and she were not. She was so fast that perhaps she could disarm me before I could even pull a trigger. The idea of attacking this woman with only my arm free was ridiculous.

“Bad boy” she said with no surprise at all in her voice. She’d planned for me to make my attempt. It was an excuse to really punish me even more. The shock in my rectum lasted this time for more than a second. The pain lasted much longer. I couldn’t even feel my “broken ribs” because this swamped out the other pain. A few seconds later when I could see again I actually got a look at my antagonist for the first time.

The “mistress” whom I later privately labelled the “bitch”, would have been attractive on stage in a beauty contest. But she wasn’t lovely. Lovely implies nice, beauty only requires attractive features. She looked almost six feet tall, statuesque. Lean muscles, shapely, probably much stronger than the pathetic “body builder” women who starve themselves for muscle definition. This woman had enough fat to give her sexy rounded curves inspite of her athletic looking body. Tits about medium size, very firm, slim waist, long legs. I’m six-two so I like tall women. I tend to like women all heights. But this one definitely wasn’t my type. Only a guy with a slave personality would want her for his mistress.

All this was very apparent because her leather outfit was no more than a bikini decorated with gold chains. As I stared, she slowly stripped off first her bra top, then her thong bottom. She had tattoos right on her nipples. Clearly this woman liked pain, even receiving it. When she slipped out of her bottom she made sure I was watching. No pubic hair. That didn’t surprise me. I was surprised that I didn’t see any tattoos in the area where her beaver had been, a very popular place for the adventurous female. And this one even had her nipples done. Then as she slid the front down past her vagina opening I saw what she wanted me to see. Both her labia were fully tattooed with a sawtooth pattern. I bet that didn’t turn guys on much. And it must have hurt her like hell having it done. I don’t even have labia. But I’ve licked enough women there to know how sensitive they are.

“Well my little rabbit. Now it comes down to me and your dick. I like sex and pain, especially pain for my partner. I specialize in “educating” females before they’re sold to brothels. So I don’t get that much chance to play with guys. Shall we play?”

If I was supposed to respond to this then she had another excuse to zap me. But instead she simply bent over and began sucking my limp dick. No way was I going to respond the way I was feeling. But I underestimated either my libido or her ability. Within a few seconds I was hardly aware of either the pain in my chest or the one in my ass. Mostly I was aware of the scrumptious feeling of soft warm lips massaging that part of a man’s body that loves it the most. I felt myself swelling up, enlarging, getting stiff inside her mouth. This girl could really suck good! It didn’t hurt that when I tried to look down at what was happening, mostly all I could see was this georgeous pair of tits. The more she sucked me the more heavenly she began to look. My dick began doing all my thinking. I’d never before had an attractive woman try to control me with her sexuality. I discovered that she could make me react pretty much as she wished.

When she had me rock hard, she stopped and looked at me with a strange smile. Some women manage a nice smile while fucking, though many look like they’re in pain when they’re having an orgasm. I’ve always had a preference for ones who liked to smile while I’m fucking them. But I never want to see one with this type of smile. Somewhere in the back of my brain I knew I should be even more scared than I had been before she started sucking my dick. But when she started kissing, then nibbling my nipples, my penis only got harder, if that were possible. One hard bite on each one, almost bitting them off. I knew it was hurting me, yet I loved it. Each abuse brought me very close to climax.

Suddenly she was squating over me, lowering her vagina around my rock hard shaft. It may have been tight, but she jambed us together so hard that I couldn’t tell anything other than that we were suddenly fully coupled, my erection deep up inside her. It probably hurt her more doing it that way, and this girl loved hurting herself. It hurt me some also. And that was clearly fine with her as well. I was close to climax, and had the joining been simply smooth and pleasurable I’d have probably hosed her insides the second I was fully inside her. But while my pecker was recovering from the shock she suddenly raised up, disengaging completely, and repositioned herself with her anus directly over my overly ready erection.

Perhaps she’d lubed herself and my dick was certainly wet with pussy juice. For whichever reason I felt myself slide easily up inside her rectum. I don’t think she was trying to make this pleasant, only successful. It had been many years since I’d felt my manhood inside a woman’s fanny. I couldn’t remember it feeling this good. My enemy slid herself up and down my shaft delighting herself with the feel of me inside her. I’m not sure she cared how much I enjoyed it, but I couldn’t help myself. If things had ended here I would have loved her for the physical pleasure inspite of the fact that I’d much rather have been the one on top, her the one in bondage. But the incredible pleasure her anus was giving my penis was incidental to her.

Just when we both knew I was going to explode, she suddenly popped off me and attacked my manhood with her lips again. There wasn’t time for another good suck. Nor was this her intention. A quick flick of her tongue across my piss hole and I was erupting into her open mouth. Most of it landed inside. She squeezed my penis hard, as if trying to hurt me. But it felt wonderful. She licked some of the cume off her lips and looked at me.

“Good enough,” she said as if commenting on the quality of my cume. “Well, we still have to take care of your punishment. That little thing I did to you before was just a hint. But I would wouldn’t have gotten an erection out of you if I’d administered the punishment first.”

Saying this she hit me with a longer pulse of anal shock. During the sex I’d almost forgotten the dildo was still inside me. I blanked for some period of time, and woke up still tied spread eagle face up. She was doing something to my genitals. My insides were in such agony that I couldn’t actually feel what she was doing beyond the fact that she was doing something, but apparently she was attaching electrodes to my scrotum.

Next she started playing with my dick. No way was I going to respond to that, though any other time she could have given me an erection with this hand job. I’m thirty-eight. Any time an attractive woman touches me there I get an erection. It had even happened once when a female doctor was examining me. But it didn’t happen this time. And after what happened next I wouldn’t be capable of any erection for days.

What she was doing was sticking a thin metal wire into my piss hole. It was a second electrode.

“Any time you think about getting brave again remember this as well.”

Of course I lost consciousness. What man wouldn’t after having his dick and scrotum both amputated simultaneously with a dull, rusty knife?

An expert told me many months later that such an amputation might not have hurt as much in the short term as what she’d done to me. When I awoke, I wished I hadn’t. I could tell by looking that my dick was still there and the electrodes were gone. I would have eagerly given up my manhood to stop this pain. Obviously I wished I were dead, literally.

I’d suffered pain so intense that I should have emptied my bowels. I probably tried to, except that it made no difference. See, I’d had this plug up there. Nor did I have much shit inside me to start with. For over a month I’d been hiking the CDT and eating only 12 ounces of food a day, losing thirty pounds. My bowel movements had become very regular due to all the exercise, and very small due to the almost starvation diet. I still considered myself overweight, but much less than a month earlier.

With all the pain I was in it was a long time before I realized the anal plug was no longer inside me. There was a yellow ribbon tied around the base of my genitals with a note attached. I couldn’t see this. Nor feel anything except the overriding pain. I was told later by a young woman that the note said “love and kisses”. Apparently the sadist thought she was a comedian.


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2 Katlin:

Since we were allowed to talk in whispers, Missy and I exchanged observations. What little she knew wasn’t any different from what I knew. We’d both been kidnapped the same afternoon and neither of us could remember anything about it.