Warning: This story contains descriptions of torture. If you are a minor or are easily offended by this
type of content, then please do not read.
Bloom: Part 3 - "Click"
It was a
little sound, almost nothing…so quiet it almost didn’t exist, but sounds were
just about all Sandra had down in the darkness. She had become hypersensitive
to every noise, her chain being the loudest and most disturbing of all. The
fact that she even heard it over the chain noises was a miracle in itself. When
she sat down on the mattress there was an ever so slight ‘click’ which
shouldn’t have been there. Likewise, when she dragged the mattress over closer
there was thin scraping noise. Probably a small pebble caught under the
mattress. Why should she even care? Her tongue was swollen to about twice its
normal size from the terrible assault inflicted upon it by cattle prod a couple
hours ago. Even with the swelling, she
could still taste Karen’s piss – she wanted desperately to rid her mouth of
that taste. She wanted to throw up the
horrible “dinner” Karen had forced down her but she knew there was nutrition in
it, and who knew when she would be allowed to eat again.
Though there was no way to tell in
the dark, she was sure she had burns from where the cattle prod hit her. So why
should she care about some stupid little clicking noise? But she did, half out
of curiosity and half out of boredom she had to find out. Sandra kneeled facing away from the mattress and lifted it up on
her feet; this allowed her to wedge her body under it, the difficulty of this
seemingly easy maneuver astonishing her. She felt around as far as her arms
would extend out away from her body without causing pain. Then the source: a
large safety pin partially embedded in the underside of the mattress. She
didn’t know right away how this could be important, only that it was. Sandra
worked another fifteen minutes before she emerged from under the mattress with
her prize. Oh great, she could stab Karen with it. If she was lucky she could
hit her in the eye, causing blindness or just pissing her off more...then Karen
could kill her in a fit of rage. Or perhaps…she could
use it to pick her handcuffs. Could that work or was that something that can
only happen in a movie??? She decided that she would spend as long as required,
which turned out to be the next four hours, finding out the answer.
The
sweetest sound that Sandra had ever heard was another ‘click’. She almost
didn’t believe it when she heard it, but this sound was loud and confident. Her
left handcuff eased its grip on her wrist and she swung her arms freely away
from behind her back. This was the greatest relief that she could remember, and
she spent a few minutes just kneading her stiff and very sore shoulders. Sandra
started to pick her other handcuff and found it a bit more difficult as she was
using her left hand, but since she already knew the technique it took much less
time. Finally, she was free of the dreadful handcuffs…now what? Could she pick
her leg shackle too? Sandra knew that was not going to happen - it was a
heavy-duty lock that would require a better tool and some capable experience.
No, she would have to develop a plan with what she had accomplished so far.
She needed a weapon. The basement
was mocking her with all the weapons hanging from the walls…out of reach. The mattress? Yeah, she could hit her with a mattress. Stupid. The chain? Possibly, but very risky. It was heavy but not lethal. It
wasn’t until she had to pee again that the answer came to her: the drain cover.
She began to try to pull it up but could manage to only turn it. Keep working
on it. It was small but she could feel that it was heavy. Held behind her back
as Karen approached, it could be brought out at the last moment and WHAM!
Sandra would beat that bitch within an inch of her life…perhaps further. What
then? Karen certainly didn’t carry the key with her and Sandra couldn’t let her
go get it. No, this would serve only to put her in the same predicament as
Sandra, she would handcuff Karen to the chain. But if she didn’t do this now she would have to put the handcuffs back on and
bide her time…something Sandra was unwilling to do. Who’s to say this bitch
wasn’t going to kill her anyway - no, she certainly couldn’t let Sandra go free
– things had gotten way beyond that threshold. Karen was going to have to keep
her forever or kill her, and Sandra would not let that happen. Let the chips
fall where they may, someone would eventually come looking for Karen, she was
certain. In the meantime, Sandra chopped at the massive links of her chain with
the drain cover in a futile attempt to break free.
Sandra
wondered what time it was. Her only clue
was the fact that Karen had called that horrid meal (that, damn it, she was
still tasting) “dinner”, not lunch or breakfast. That was many hours ago, so it
must be nearing morning by Sandra’s calculations. Time to be very cautious of
Karen opening the door; Sandra didn’t want her to hear the clanging of metal,
which was very loud even in the heavily baffled basement. Sandra felt the links
where she was hammering; even though she could sometimes see sparks in the
darkness, the link seemed as smooth as all the others. This was not going to
work. Maybe Karen would come at her with bolt cutters, or a hacksaw, and she
could maneuver the chains so that they would be cut…the thought of that
ridiculous idea made Sandra laugh despite the grimness of it all. She put the
drain cover down and waited.
Finally
there was a sound at the top of the stairs. Sandra quickly grabbed her weapon
and held it behind her back as if she was still handcuffed. As the lights
blazed on, Sandra pretended to slowly wake from sleeping. Be patient. Be calm.
Karen was fully dressed this time, nothing provocative. Something was wrong. A
small basket was in Karen’s hands as she descended the stairs, and Karen looked
nervous. Sandra began pleading as before, but stopped suddenly when she saw the
gun.
Hours ago
after their last encounter, Karen had showered instead of having her usual bath
and decided to have a drink of wine before bed. It had been truly exhilarating
to watch Sandra struggle and suffer, and especially feeding her that degrading
meal. She actually ate it! Karen needed
to think of more things to train her to do, Sandra really was like a pet now.
She could train Sandra to lick her clean instead of using toilet paper, she
could have Sandra cook, clean, do Karen’s pedicures… the possibilities were
endless, but first she needed to be broken, and that would be the fun part. She
had just about finished her glass of wine and turned off the monitor when she
noticed something. Sandra was pulling at the mattress…just out of curiosity
(alarm had yet to step in), Karen watched. Sandra was looking for something.
There was nothing under that bare mattress, Karen was sure… or was there?
Sandra obviously thought there was. Karen watched the whole process as Sandra
got under the mattress and retrieved something small, something to pick her
handcuffs? Karen could put a stop to this now but she wanted to know, plus she
still had the upper hand. Further, Sandra had surely not realized that Karen
could see her with the night vision. After watching for hours, Karen almost
fell off her chair when she saw the cuffs come off. Resourceful little cunt!
Don’t ever underestimate this slut. Then, as she watched Sandra work on the
drain cover, she realized this could have been deadly had she not been
watching…this was no game. A lesson definitely was needed to demonstrate
to Sandra that there was no escape and that her only option was to submit. She
grabbed a hand basket and placed the syringe, stun gun and handgun inside, and
opened the door to the basement.
“Place the drain cover over near the stairs Sandra, then lay down by the mattress!” Karen yelled, taking pains to sound authoritative, even though she was terribly rattled by Sandra’s resourcefulness. “Do it now!” Sandra’s hopes were dashed as she followed the instructions. “Put your hands behind your back!” Karen quickly grabbed the stun gun and gave Sandra a jolt. While Sandra was incapacitated by the effects, Karen jabbed her with the syringe, injecting her with the tranquilizer. Then nothing.
As Sandra
awoke, she was totally disoriented. Where was she, on some kind of table? Then
she remembered…that rack. She thought she was going to be sick, but couldn’t
tell if it was because of her predicament or the after effects of the
tranquilizer. However, she managed to keep it down, since throwing up would
only make things worse with the huge gag in her mouth, stretching her lips and
cheeks, and making her jaw ache. Karen was milling about the room all dolled up
in one of her outfits: a wispy pink chemise slip with matching heeled sandals
and a thong. That was not a good sign at all!
Sandra filled with dread – when Karen dressed sexy, that meant she was
about to do vile things. Noticing she was awake, Karen came and sat down on the
table next to Sandra’s prone body, crossing her legs like she was trying to
catch some gentleman’s eye. Karen pet her hair as she would a dog and spoke:
“Sandra, I’m afraid you have a lot to learn about what I will tolerate. The
next few hours will be filled with much pain.” She traced Sandra’s body with
her finger and continued: “You are and will always be my slave, the sooner you
accept that the better things will be.” Karen walked over to the winch.
The rack actually was a heavy
dining room table. A monstrosity her husband had purchased and left behind,
probably just to punish her. It was almost absurd in its length. She had it
brought downstairs for, at the time, she thought she needed furniture down
here, and certainly would replace it shortly. However, as she evolved,
Karen began to formulate another use for it. It looked medieval; maybe she did
like it after all. She purchased four large eyebolts and drilled two into one
end, the other two were secured to a heavy metal bar at the other end, this bar
was in turn cabled to a boat winch. Karen had never worked with tools in her
life and was surprised at her natural abilities. Purchasing four leather
straps, she secured them to the eyebolts. Karen was proud of her first
construction project, a little unorthodox but dreadfully fun! Now it was time
to put her delightful apparatus to its first use.
Sandra was pleading through her
gag, obviously trying to say something about being sorry or not doing such
things again, but it didn’t matter. Karen began turning the winch, which
produced a loud clicking sound. She watched as Sandra’s arms and legs
straightened out to their full length…and then farther. Karen slowed the turns
as the cable became taut; she was drinking this in and was curious of the
effects of her toy on Sandra. Placing her pussy against the corner of the
table, Karen began to rock slightly up and down, grinding her pussy on the
table as she turned the crank. Sandra’s eyes became huge as the tension set in
and began wailing and going nuts thrashing her head to and fro in a desperate
attempt to somehow stop her torment, but Karen needed to teach the imp a
lesson…and she was also in dire need of some pleasure.
“I wonder how far I can go before
your joints pop out, Sandra? A few more clicks?” click…click…click. As her body was stretched, Sandra’s moans and
thrashing stopped, as the agony of any movement was too much to bear – only her
watered eyes spoke of her torment. Satisfied, Karen bent over and stared into
Sandra’s eyes for quite a while before she crooned: “Hurts a little, doesn’t
it? Maybe you’ll think next time before you do something so foolish.” Karen
moved around near Sandra’s midsection and felt her tummy. “Wow, you’re as tight
as a drum.” She lightly drummed her fingers on Sandra’s stomach. Sandra tried
to scream but no sound came out; it was as if all the breath in her body had
been stretched out of her. Her shoulders and hips were on fire and she wished
she could pass out, but her body wasn’t at its pain limit yet. Karen held up a
little box so Sandra could see. “So, you like safety pins?”
Karen got up on the table beside
Sandra and lay down next to her, caressing Sandra’s stretched body and she positioned
herself. She set down the box on Sandra’s tummy and, as Sandra watched with
disbelieving eyes, pulled out a large silver pin, shaking off the alcohol still
clinging to it. “I noticed you have no piercings. I
thought all girls your age had them.” Karen lightly scraped the point of the
pin up from Sandra’s stomach to her nipple and stopped. She then pinched the
nipple firmly between her fingers and ever so slowly pushed the pin through it.
Sandra finally found her voice and emitted a cry that sounded far off to Karen,
and she flicked the pin with her finger in an effort to make Sandra recreate
it. A large drop of blood oozed out and Karen licked it up. This was making
Karen insane with delight and she quickly got up and straddled Sandra’s
stomach. This put extra pressure on Sandra’s already rigid body, taking what
little breath she had away. Sandra was panicking now fearing that she wouldn’t
be able to breathe, but managed quick short breaths. Karen was now dripping wet
like the next pin she pushed through Sandra’s other nipple.
Fingering herself with one hand,
Karen moved down to Sandra’s navel. Because of the tightness of Sandra’s
stomach, Karen had a difficult time skewering the belly button…she had to weave
it through like she was sewing a dress. Causing far more pain than the nipple
piercing, this forced Sandra to cry loudly and attempt to thrash about, but the
winch had stretched her body taut and immobile, so even trying to move amounted
to just more pain. Karen then turned around, straddling her the other way
(basking in Sandra’s thin but heartfelt wails of agony as she maneuvered
none-to-gently) and focused her attention on Sandra’s pussy. Sandra had a full pussy, with a prominent
labia and clit. Karen pinched and pulled at Sandra’s most tender and precious
parts to get the blood flowing (and Karen’s own pussy getting absolutely soaked
– she was rubbing vigorously on Sandra’s brutally stretched belly, smearing it
with her juice and creating more thin wails from Sandra as she absorbed the
movement) and licked her lips, breathing in a breath ragged with excitement and
anticipation, exhaled, and speared Sandra’s labia with one pin on each
side. She stopped riding Sandra’s belly
as she concentrated to fight back the culmination… it wasn’t time yet, she had
to fight it back. She looked back at
Sandra and almost climaxed again as she saw Sandra’s eyes rolling up at the
agony. She turned away, looking up at
the ceiling and taking in a calming breath as she prepared… and then went for the finale…the clitoris. As
Karen pushed a smaller pin against…ragged breath… wait for it…now, and finally
THROUGH Sandra’s prominent clit, she finally let go and exploded with a furious
orgasm – finally it was Karen’s turn to scream along with Sandra, Karen in
unbelievable ecstasy, Sandra in unbelievable agony! Karen gushed juice all over Sandra’s belly,
while Sandra mercifully passed out.