Wife Trained Abused and Bought Back

Hello.

My name is Sanya. At least that is my name today. I do not know what it will be tomorrow or six months from now, but that matters little. It shouldn’t matter at all. Not to you. I will try to tell you everything you need to make you cum. Knowing that while I’m writing this, I have a vibrator strapped between my legs and I have to stop every few minutes while I cum. It turns me on to describe to you that I am not good for anything but abuse and humiliation. It turns me on, it makes me hot. It makes my pussy wet and my ass twitch, wishing you were here to deep fuck my ass with a dildo or your hard cock. Or to let me lick your ass with my soft, wet tongue.

Whether you are a man or a woman reading this, I am completely yours. My only wish is to make you cum while you read this. If I was with you, I would be yours to do with as you wish. Indulge your slightest whim on my body. Give me the most trivial or the most disgusting command and I would perform for you. Stroke me gently or beat me harshly. Tie me immobile for hours until my muscles scream from the pain or parade me in front of your friends in the skimpiest whore outfit we can find.

I would love to wear the outfit for you, I haven’t work anything that was not made of leather or latex in over a year. Except for the occasional photo or video session. If a man asks for me to dress special while he’s jacking off on my live-sex channel, I will find the outfit, wear it, then throw it away when the session is over. The only clothing I have of my own is a blue satin corset. Sam used to ask me to wear it when we made love. It reminds me of our years together as husband and wife and my humiliation is so much deeper when he makes me wear it. I cry from the moment I put it on until he cums deep inside my ass and lets me crawl back to the basement.

Sam and The Doctor own me now. I clean the house for them, do their cooking and laundry and entertain their friends. All of their friends and all of their needs, The Doctor is still very hard on me, but I can’t blame her. A few weeks ago, she came across a photo of Sam and me back when we were married and flew into a rage. She screamed and screamed at me and sent me to my room. I tried pleading, begging, reminding her that we’d been divorced for two years and that she was his whole world how, but she kept yelling and pushing me, finally locking me in the metal cell in the basement that they call my home.

A few hours later, she came with three of her women friends and calmly – oh, so calmly and cooly – opened the door and took me to the Punishment Room. Her words were ice cutting through me, I’d never seen her so worked up. As she tied me in position – arms wide and stretched to the rafters, legs stretched and secured at the breaking point, I looked at the other women’s faces. None of them would look at me. They were terrified at what The Doctor might do but also excited to watch. That was obvious too, their wet mouths and stiff nipples told that – even though they didn’t want to be part of it – they didn’t want to miss a second.

She opened one of the panels in the wall and brought out the wooden X. The women held it in place behind me and she secured me to it. Ropes around my wrists, elbows, upper arms, knees, belly, neck, every part of my body that could possibly move was tied tightly. I couldn’t move an inch in any direction, had a hard time breathing. The Doctor watched me for a few minutes, wondering where to begin.

The Doctor worked in silence as she sometimes did. She went to one of the glass cabinets and took out a green bottle, unscrewed the cap. I recognized it immediately and started begging. I beg more easily now. For a long time, I fought it and tried to demonstrate some measure of self control. But I always broke. I break more easily now. My pleas never had any effect on her so I didn’t deny myself anymore.

“Oh, God, Doctor, please. I want the whip, Doctor, please, use the whip on me. Cut my breasts, my titties, my cunt, Doctor…please…oh…oh…” My words faded into blubbering sounds as she dipped her gloved hand into the goo. I felt the cool glob smacked against my cunt, then her hand rubbing up and down, smearing it all over my mons. Then, she rubbed it a few inches down the insides of my thighs. I focused on my breath, trying to keep it steady, knowing it would only buy me a little time. She pressed her face close to mine and smiled as her fingers slid between my lips, rubbing the cream along every part of my open cunt, from my clit to my hole. Then, her mouth opened and she showed her teeth in an evil grin as she pushed her fingers deep inside my cunt. I heard myself moaning and blubbering from a long way away, saw the faces of the women in the room cringe. She slid her fingers deep into my ass, back into my cunt, back up and down the inside of my vagina. She dipped her hand in for more cream and applied another layer everywhere while I shook and cried. Then, she stepped back and calmly screwed the lid back on the jar. She walked slowly to the cabinet and peeled off the gloves, threw them on the table and waited.

It didn’t take long.

I felt my body shaking before the pain registered in my brain. My thighs were trembling and my belly moved up and down as my breathing got faster and faster. The cream was a mixture of jalapeno, Serrano, and chili pepper oil in a menthol base that must have been one of the cool-heat sports creams, She’d used it on me before but only once. I’d passed out and Sam had actually been scared. The Doctor laughed at him and promised me she knew what she was doing. My cunt was sore for a full week after that, a fact she used to her advantage, pimping me out what unusual enthusiasm.

The pain was incredible, I thought I would go insane. I was sweating and shaking my head from side to side. I felt a cool flow across my cunt and realized I’d pissed myself. I cried and moaned from the pain, the humiliation didn’t even register.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hear myself scream. The world was pain and there was nothing I could do about. Maybe worse, I knew there was nothing she could do about it, I had to live with it until my body flushed it or it lost potency. I felt something cool on my left breast and opened my eyes. Through my tears, I saw that The Doctor was holding it in her left hand. There was a syringe in her right.

My titties were huge – when Sam named me Sanya for the new website, he told me that a woman named Sanya would have huge titties. The Doctor had spent a week injecting my 36C tits with various toxins and venoms that swelled them into something past double-Gs. She’d also used some kind of steel device to stretch my nipples. I wore it all day and slept with it every night, it was on every minute we weren’t filming. She adjusted it regularly and my nipples now hang limp a full two inches long when they’re not erect.

The Doctor pushed the tip of the needle into my left nipple and I jerked, my body not moving because of the rope. My tit did shake a little and she ‘tsk’ed me as the needle went in. She sank it a full two inches into my tit before pushing the plunger. I don’t know what was in it but the effect was immediate, my entire tit was on fire, nothing like my cunt but horrible. She watched my face as she picked up another syringe and held my right tit up.

“You would love me to say something to you, wouldn’t you?” she sneered. “You love the abuse. You want me to call you…” then she shut up. I felt more insulted that she wouldn’t finish. I was too low a thing to even be humiliated.

For a long time, she left me there like that. I struggled against the ropes completely helpless. I tried banging my head backward against the wood but there was a tight strap around my forehead and I could only move a quarter of an inch.

She sat the syringe down on the metal tray and pushed it away against the wall. Through my pain haze, I saw her opening another drawer and felt any strength left in me drain away. I stopped struggling and just fell back into the intense burning pain coursing through my body. She took a simple pair of clover clamps out of the drawer and attached them to the very tips of my nipples. I screamed again, shocked that she could bring me more pain than I was already in. She tied a long piece of twine to each of the clamps and went across the room to her girlfriends.

“Here. Let’s have a tug of war.”

“What about me?” the third woman asked.

“Oh.” The Doctor said with obvious glee. “Sorry.”

She took another clamp out of the drawer and walked toward me. I shook my head and begged her not to but she just stroked my cheek and gave me a kiss on the lips. “I wonder if Sam would have married you if he saw you like this. You wanted this all along, didn’t you?”

The Doctor held the clamp in front of my face, squeezed it open and shut. She lowered it, pushed it up into my nose, letting it clamp down on the septum. When she pulled it down hard, I felt the pain shoot through me and screamed. She shook her head and lowered it to my mouth. She pulled out my tongue and clamped it there, yanked it off again. This time, I didn’t scream and she shook her head.