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Warning: the following is a depiction of a fantasy scene in
which a woman is rendered completely helpless and cruelly
tortured.  If this is not to the taste of some readers,
they should stop reading now.

Disclaimer:  Since this is the first story I've distributed
that even remotely approximates the feel of a genuine scene,
let me take this chance to make it plain that this is purely
- uh, make that solely - intended as fantasy.  I do not practice
or advocate, in real life, the use of fraud and deception, or
paralyzing drugs, or a disregard of safewords, or preventing a
sub from communicating, or willfully misinterpreting what
communication does occur, or careless use of heat or cold or
electricity or any other deviations from the standard of safe
(i.e within a known and acceptable level of danger), sane (each
participant has sufficient grasp of reality (and no one's grasp
diverges too markedly from that of any other participant)), and
consensual (to an extent satisfactory to each participant).

----------------------------------------------------------
New Toy
by SD

I was reasonably certain Patricia would like my new toy, but it
had to be introduced in the right way.  After some consideration,
I came up with a plan.  Patricia was accustomed to my surprises
and true to our agreement always resisted as much as she could
without injuring me, just as I in my efforts to capture her used
as much force as I could without harming her  (I admit to
exploiting the fact that the woman defines "harm" like no one
I know).  I could usually get her in the restraints, but not
always, and this time I was going to make certain she didn't
escape.  I invited Patricia and Sharon over for coffee and
pastry that Saturday.  Since each woman has on occasion been
successful in escaping my ambushes (it's rather disappointing
both to them and me when that happens, but none of us find the game
satisfactory when the resistance is inauthentic) Patricia knew I
couldn't overpower them both, so she wouldn't expect me to try
anything with both women present.  I knew that their plans for the
weekend had been scrapped at the last minute (getting that party
scratched had cost me a big favor), so neither of them would be
expected anywhere this weekend, giving us plenty of time to play.
I needed them to stick around for a bit, so after the coffee I asked
Patricia for some SF recommendations, knowing that it would take more
than a bit for her to list her favorites.  We were about three feet
into her ten foot shelf when Sharon exclaimed: "Oh, I feel dizzy."
"Really ?", I said, "well, perhaps you should lie down.  I'll get
you some water ".  I was bringing the water when I said, "Damn, I
should have gotten a cool rag too.  Patricia, would you get that
while I give her the water ?". "Sure", she said, and rose from her
chair only to stagger.  "Now, I'm dizzy.  Maybe something in the
pastry was bad", then had an epiphany.  "You BASTARD !", she
shouted as she dropped to her knees, "this is sick, if you....".
The drug took hold then and cut her off in mid-threat.

"Don't worry, dear ladies, the drug doesn't last long, and it
seldom has adverse side effects; there's only about an 8% chance
you'll lose your hair and your skin will turn orange".  I knelt
over Patricia's fallen form.  "It must be an intriguing
sensation," I said as I stroked her deep brown hair, "being fully
conscious with complete feeling but no voluntary muscle control,
totally helpless and deliciously vulnerable".  I lifted her
eyelids and looked into her hazel eyes.  She was awake, and mad.
I started undressing Patricia.  After I freed her breasts I took
a pair of needle-nosed pliers and gave her left nipple a good
twist.  No reaction at all from Patricia.  "I know you felt that,
and undoubtedly wanted to scream, but nothing happened when you
tried.  While the drug's effect lasts you'll breath, somewhat
shallowly, and you heart will beat, but that's all.  I could
stick pins in your clit and you wouldn't twitch; I could lay your
feet in a fire and though you'd feel all the pain and smell the
burning flesh, no matter how hard you'd try you'd never be able
to move your feet.  My plans for you aren't that quite that
nasty, but I think you'll find them interesting".  I finished
stripping Patricia, then retrieved a rolling table and put her on
it for her trip to the playroom.  "It's not that I couldn't carry
you, my dear, but I prefer to save energy for those things that
require a human touch".  I deposited her on a table in the
playroom and went back to retrieve Sharon; the drug's duration is
not completely predictable and she was close enough to a phone to
be troublesome (I hate 911).  I brought Sharon to the playroom,
shackled and leashed her and stuffed a ball gag in her mouth, and
propped her up on some pillows so she could observe what happened to
her friend.

As I'd had few opportunities to test the drug, a test seemed to be
in order; actually, I knew Patricia would still be totally
helpless, but I like hurting her.  The insertion of a sharp, thin
needle into her breasts, buttocks, stomach, and the arches if her
feet didn't produce a twitch or a sound.  Satisfied - for the
moment - I uncovered my new toy and opened it.  "You may recall
all the measurements I took of you when last I had you locked up
here.  I needed them for my new apparatus."  I picked Patricia up
and placed her inside the molded steel, her 5'8.5" form fitting
perfectly.  I slid her arms and legs and fingers into the
appropriate sheaths and tightened the clamps to hold them
motionless, then made certain her feet were secure in the stirrups.
"This matches your measurements precisely, Patricia.  When I close
it, you'll be snugly encased from your head to your ankles.
Well, not quite encased.  Your breasts and buttocks and crotch
will be exposed for my attentions, as will your feet, and there's
an opening for your nostrils. The diaphram measurements were
taken when inhaling, so you'll be able to breath. There's no
openings for your eyes or mouth and the headpiece will - I hope -
fit so that you can't open your mouth to protest, but I did have
them leave earholes for you."

Happily, it fit perfectly.  The padding in the headpiece compressed
nicely, permitting it to lock in place while holding Patricia's head
in a firm but safe embrace.  When I rotated the case 90 degrees on
it's swivel I watched Patricia's bare feet in their stirrups to
see if they slid downwards at all; they didn't, indicating that
the victim was securely pressed into her prison.  Just to check I
rotated her 180 degrees so her feet were facing upwards, then
another 180 degrees.  She was in there good and tight.  I gave it
a few more 360 degree spins - not to test anything, I just liked
watching her tits and ass roll past - then stopped to wait for
the drug to wear off.  I glued wires to each foot and let a mild
direct current run thru them.  As the drug wore off we'd see her
feet squirming.  Of course, she was hurting as much now as she
would be then, but for the moment she couldn't respond. Or so I
thought.  When I decided to pass the time by fingering Patricia,
I learned differently.  It seems there are some reactions that
the drug doesn't effect.

It wasn't long before the rest of her became as responsive as her
pussy had remained.  Her feet started twitching, then squirming,
a movement that increased when I increased the current.  Sharon
was coming around too, so I turned my attention to her. I
retrieved an electric slave prod (the power is set lower than
the cattle prod, so it inflicts pain with less tendency to induce
rigor and/or paralysis) and jabbed her thigh to gain her
attention.  I've always preferred having the ladies undress
themselves at least partly, and I'd left her wrists in front so she
could do so.  She didn't like the idea, but liked the prod even
less, and soon she had her skirt, slip, and stockings off, and
her blouse open.  I removed the handcuffs and told her get the
blouse and bra off.  She didn't move fast enough to suit me and
got a jab of the prod to her right nipple, which evoked what I
guess would have been quite a shriek if not for all the rubber in
her mouth. After that jolt of electricty she moved with a bit
more alacrity (she'd actually been doing quite adequately without
being zapped, but I so like that alacrity from electricity
line, and life isn't fair, is it ? ), and was left with just her
panties, which was fine for now.  Sharon was sufficiently
distressed at being so nearly naked that the loss of her panties
now would add little, but in a short time that last little bit
of modesty would be important to her; that was when she would lose
it.  I tied her hands behind her tightly and cinched her elbows
together, attached a spreader bar to her ankles that would keep her
legs wide apart, then locked a wide collar around her neck with a
chain attached to an "O" ring in the floor, so that no matter how
intently I might concentrate on Patricia, Sharon wouldn't be able to
sneak away, and then turned my attentions to Patricia.

"I'm afraid I'll need my fingers for other things, my dear, so I
won't be able to keep stimulating you.  But this should help," I
said as I attached a vibrator to the apparatus and slid it into
place.  "But of course we want a variety of stimuli, don't we ?",
I asked, as I applied the weighted nipple clamps, then tapped the
weights to get them swinging.  Swiveling my new toy so that it was
parallel with the floor caused the weights to hang straight down.
"Is that enough stimuli, Patricia ?"  Silence. "I do so hate to
disappoint you with some mundane torture that anyone could
withstand.  I'll tell you what, I'll just go ahead and play and
you tell me when you've had enough.  The safeword will be, 'Do it
to Sharon'.  You just say that when you can't bear it any longer."
More silence, though I did detect some slight vibration in the
iron shell.  "OK, enough negotiation", I said, locking the shell in
place.  I turned the electric current off and removed the wires from
her arches; wiping away the glue with some alcohol I saw that no
burns were left.  I wrapped some thin wet cloths around Patricia's
big toes and the toes next to them, then wrapped the wires around
the cloth encircling her big toes, and put the low current back on.
"Sorry for the interruption, love, but I had to move those wires.
Suppose I should decide on a little steel pipe bastinado ?  I might
have gotten a shock."

"Now we can start to play", I said, seizing a thin cane.  A couple of
swishes past the earholes, then it slashed down across her buttocks.
"How was that ?  Just safeword when you want me to stop."  A dozen
more slashing blows across her buns, leaving some quite angry lines
on her exterior.  Now a few strokes that don't actually touch the
flesh, to give her a chance to recover a bit while keeping up the
anticipation, before I start inserting the random genuine stroke. I
keep this up until each hot bun is nicely crisscrossed with welts.
Fondling her cheeks, I remark, "They're so red and hot, dear.  It's
time for a change, wouldn't you say ?".  Silence.  "No ?  Well, I
think it's time for a change".  So, I hang up the cane, and bring
out a another toy.  I let her wait a bit, first tracing her welts
with a finger, then stroking the soles of her feet, while she tries
to guess what part of her anatomy will be next.  The suspense ends
when a wide paddle comes smashing down across her burning buns.  A
few more repetitions set the shell to vibrating.  "A bit impersonal,
isn't it, hun ?", I ask, before switching to barehanded spanking,
usually striking each cheek in turn but occasionally striking one
cheek with two or three successive blows to be sure she couldn't
anticipate the next target.  At last I stop when Patricia's
buttocks are swollen and bright red and more importantly, my hand
hurts.  "It's been said that you're a real hardtail, but I didn't
think it was meant literally.  It seems there's more than one iron
maiden in this room".  Stroking her buttocks - softly - with my left
hand, I remark "Even hotter than before.  I suppose we should cool
them down", and take two bags of ice from the freezer and lay one
across each of her throbbing cheeks, wrapping the ice bags and
burning buns with a wide bandage to assure the ice remains in
place.  That should feel good, I thought - for a little while.

Since I didn't want to do anything that might dislodge the icebags
before they ceased to be a pleasure, I decided it would be rude to
ignore my other guest.  The widening of her eyes as I approached
suggested that she was not feeling neglected, but discourtesy should
not be excused merely because one's guest is too good-natured to
take offense.  I looped a rope around her bound wrists then through
an overhead pulley.  A couple good pulls brought her to her feet,
but the chain attached to her collar was too short too allow her to
stand upright, so she was left standing, her legs far apart, bent to
the waist, with her arms at an almost 90 degree angle to her shoulders
and her breasts dangling delightfully.  Such a target was irresistable.
A pair of extremely strong clamps were located and applied to her
nipples and adjusted to the maximum possible tightness.  I then attached
cords to the end of each clamp, tying the opposite end of each cord to
the ring at the end of a leash, and fastened the leash to one of the
ubiquitous "O" rings.  By inserting a rod through one of the holes in
the leash and turning the rod a few times, her breasts could be
stretched.  After stretching them far enough to be sure she understood
the potential, I returned the leash to minimal tension, and turned my
attention from tits to ass.  She still had her panties on, a state that
couldn't be tolerated indefinitely, but before she lost them I wanted
to reinforce their importance.

Three dozen strokes of the paddle across her derriere may not
be a very logical way to raise the value she placed on her last
bit of clothing, as it made it quite clear how little protection
such thin cloth provided, but when one's ass is that sore the
thought that one might lose any thread of protection is quite
dreadful.  So I administered the spanking at a leisurely pace, with
many changes of tempo to keep Sharon uncertain when the next blow
would fall, and when I asked "You don't mind if I remove your
panties for the next three dozen, do you ?", she franticly shook her
red and tear streaked head while some urgent if inarticulate grunts
came from behind the gag.  I took this to mean that she didn't
mind, and cut her panties off over some high pitched squeals.
While I didn't imagine that she'd forgotten that she was now
completely naked, a close visual and tactile examination of her
exposed pudenda made certain that she knew she'd lost what modesty
she'd had, and also allowed her extra time to think about how much
an additional three dozen strokes on her inflamed and now bare
buttocks would hurt.  "Well, dear, let's get back to business.
Ready for the next thirtysix ?", I said, which sent her to madly
shaking her head, an action that caused her breasts to bounce quite
prettily.  "Oh, Sharon, you don't really think I could be so cruel
to deliver an additional thirtysix strokes when someone is so
obviously in distress, do you ?  How could I be that cruel to anyone,
least of all to a friend ?", I said, and the relief on her face was
quite obvious.  "Two dozen will be quite sufficient", I said, at
which point the relief vanished and she started franticly shaking
her head again.  "No ?", I said, "It won't be enough ?"   At this
she stopped shaking her head, twice being as often as that trick
was going to work, and looked at me in obvious confusion as to how
she could respond without getting herself in more trouble.  I let
her ponder for a moment, then suggested "Perhaps thirty will do ?".
She had no response to this, doubtlessly having realized that I
would interpret any response in whatever way would let me do what I
wanted, and deciding that I could do it without her "consent".  But,
of course, silence gives consent.

As delightful as it had been watch her breasts bounce during the
first set, this seemed the appropriate time to help Sharon stretch
as a submissive, so I turned the rod a few times so that her breasts
were pulled forward till her tits were quite taut, and in the second
session each vibration and every movement caused quite serious pain
in her breasts. She tried to hold still, but the force of the spanking
itself was enough to move her, and the battering of her bare, bruised
buttocks was sufficiently painful that she soon began involuntary and
futile attempts to evade the next blow, movements which tortured her
tits. This was just too delightful, so I blindfolded her, which
in conjunction with the tempo variations kept her jumping when no
blow was coming, with wonderfully painful consequences.  Long before
I was finished her blindfold was dripping wet from her tears.  The
ball gag blocked much of the volume of her screams, but enough got
out that I'm sure Patricia must have heard it and wondered what I
could be doing to her friend to cause such a response.  After the
thirtieth stroke, I knelt by Sharon's head, removed the blindfold,
and asked, "Is it OK with you if I go hurt Patricia for awhile ?",
to which she responded with some enthusiastic nods.  "OK", I said,
"but before I leave you, it appears that pulling on your tits like
this is keeping you off balance.  Would you like me to restore your
balance ?", to which she responded with a hopeful look and some more
nods of her pretty head.  It seems hope does spring eternal in the
human breast. "Alright, Sharon, I'll put some weighted clamps on your
pussy lips to balance the tit clamps".  At this point she changed
her mind, which some say is a woman's perogative, but I refuse to
insult my play partners with such sexist claptrap, so I went ahead
and spread her labia, putting a rat trap on each lip.  Since I was
in the neighborhood, I stroked her clit for awhile, listening while
her moans and squeals changed.  I stopped stroking, but placed my
finger alongside her clit, and soon she started moving her hips to
rub her clit against my finger, despite the added tension on her
breasts.  I let this go on for a few minutes, as Sharon's vagina
became wetter and her movement faster and more forceful and I could
hear nothing in her grunts that suggested she was experiencing pain,
which was quite unacceptable, so I attached an alligator clamp to
her clitoris, then hung the weights from the rat traps, and having
restored both her balance and her pain, turned my attention back to
Patricia.

"So, luv, is your hot little butt feeling any better ?  Wiggle your
left big toe if it is.  Oh, yes, I forgot, both toes have been
wiggling since I moved the wires.  Let me turn the electricity off.
Now, if the ice feels good, move your left big toe."  Nothing.  "If
it's uncomfortable, move your right big toe".  Movement.  "So you'd
like it removed ?"  The right toe wiggled again.  "Whatever you
say", I said, unwrapping the bandage and taking the ice bags off her
buttocks, which my caress confirmed were quite cold.  But when I
detach the vibrator, and reach in to play with Pat's pussy, I find
some places are quite warm.  As I play with her warm, wet pussy, I
ask, "How's this feel ?".  I wait a moment while she decides how to
respond, then her left big toe moves, indicating it feels good.
Digital communication is a wonderful thing.  My right hand played
with her for a bit while my left hand improvised.  I opened one of
the ice bags, and found a partly melted cube with safe round edges.
I kept fingering Patricia; her enforced silence and immobility was
a problem now, as I had no good way of judging how far gone she was.
"How do you like it, luv ?", I asked, and the movement of her left
toe indicated she hadn't zoned out on me yet, but I couldn't judge
her precise status.  Next time I'm going to bring some beakers so I
can measure fluid flows; I hated to move too soon, but a bird in the
hand is worth two in the bush (hmmm, not the most suitable aphorism
for these situations).  Well, I thought, she's hot, and you've
still got her attention, so....

The sudden insertion of the ice cube into her vagina, right up
against her clit, provoked a reaction that shook the whole
apparatus.  Her right big toe started wiggling madly.  I waited for
two minutes, then extracted the ice cube, waited thirty seconds,
then put fresh cube in her vagina, and another in her anus.  The
toe was going again.  "Thank you, Patricia, I'm aware the ice
hurts."  I unlocked and rotated the shell so she was tits up, and
removed the nipple clamps.  "Hey guys", I said as I fingered her
nipples, "how's it feel to be back in circulation ?".  There was
no answer, but after stroking and kissing them for a few minutes
I had to conclude they felt pretty good.  "Still cold, Patricia ?",
I inquired.  The right toe moved. "Want me to warm you up ?"  No
response.  I hate it when they can anticipate me.  I'd had a few
candles burning for a while, one of them the wide kind with a deep
wax reservoir.  I took one of the narrow candles and dripped a few
drops onto her left breast from a few feet above it.  Too high to
hurt much, it gave her something to think about.  I let her consider
what was coming for a couple minutes, then starting dripping wax
in concentric circles around her left breast from a height of two
inches above the skin.  I'd tried the wax from that height onto my
arm, and knew that while it hurt it wouldn't burn.  I'm sure it hurt
a lot more on Patricia's breast than it did on my arm (I suppose I
could have tested it on a more sensitive area, but I don't usually
wax my shaft before these sessions).  Moving to her other breast, I
let the wax fall right on her nipple, which I think I saw jump.  I
continued to drip onto her nipple until it was covered in wax, then
took the wide candle and pored its reservoir of wax over the rest of
the breast.  This wax was not as hot, and the immediate effect less
dramatic, but it would be great fun to remove later with a wire brush.

She had, of course, another nipple, and she knew I would be
attending to it soon (knowledge can indeed be a deadly friend).
But she wasn't going anywhere, so I could take the time to drip some
hot wax on Sharon's naked back for a few minutes, then tease her
with the flame of the candle for a few minutes more, moving it about
below her thighs and breasts close enough for the heat to be very
unpleasant, but moving it quickly enough that no burns resulted.
When I got back to Patricia, I took an ice cube and rubbed it on her
left nipple, which aside from being uncormfortable, would accentuate
the heat of the wax when it came.  Or so I hoped she would think.
The ice was also melting as it was rubbed over and over around her
warm nipple, making it quite wet.  So when I rotated her into an
upright position and put the flame of the candle briefly in contact
with her wet flesh the pain and shock were exquiste but no damage
was done.  I repeated the process of icing/wetting her nipple then
quickly applying the flame; the surprise was gone, to be replaced
by the anticipation.  Periodically putting my fingers into her crotch
confirmed that she was no longer suffering from the cold, and that
I didn't need to worry about a source of moisture for the fireplay.

However, nothing lasts forever, which most definitely includes my
patience.  While the apparatus was convenient for many things, it
couldn't be called all-purpose.  "Patricia, wriggle your left toe
if you want out of your armor", I asked, and the toe wiggled.  "Now
we're going to binary communications, left is "yes" and right is
"no".  When I let you out of here, are you going to be good and not
put up a fight ?". The right toe wriggled.  "Well, then, when I let
you out, are you going to be good ?"   The left toe wriggled.

That's good enough for me.

END
