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My "Images" (a term I stole from Suki) are short ideas, images,
and sketches written for the amusement of and offered as tribute 
to my Liege and Lady.  They were always longer and never so well
crafted as Suki's short masterpieces, and over time, my Images
files began to include various email excerpts and other works
in progress or ideas for works and became more journal than art,
so some juxtapositions may seem odd.


A few selections from my Images files follow.  They are generally 
cruel and nonconsensual and of interest only to sickphuxs, so please 
read no further if such doesn't appeal to you.

The Images are impurely the products of a warped imagination, and
should not be seen as a reflection of the scene, nor should they be 
imitated by anyone not interested in a protracted term as the ward 
of the state.

Steven S. Davis


---------------------------------------------------------

"Fencing in the Pet"

I've been having some interesting thoughts of you and electrified
dog collars.  Making you put on garter belt and stockings, with
the collars placed on your thighs where the electrodes will be
pressing into the bare flesh.  But I'm not thinking of you being
tortured like that girl in the story (at least not right now).

What I'm thinking about is using "invisible fence" technology
in such a way that, if you go past where you are allowed to
go, your left thigh will receive a strong shock.  And if you
go into a spot that is forbidden to you, your right thigh will
receive a strong shock.

If you don't withdraw, the shocks continue, and if you don't
withdraw within some (short) period, the belt around your
waist will deliver disabling shocks to you.  And you'll be
collected to receive punishment (*now* I'm thinking of you
experiencing what the woman in the story experienced).

Oh, and if either thigh collar is removed, the waist belt
will disable you (and send a signal that you were a bad
slave and should be punished).  And the waist belt (which can't
be removed without a combination you don't have, and attempting
to remove it will result in ... well, you know) will have
a device like those used in house arrest, so your location is
always known.

Of course, neither you nor I have enough space to make this
very interesting.  I'm imagining you as a guest at a nice
sizeable estate.  Oh, and here's an interesting side to all
this: you won't know, moment to moment, where you can and can't
go.  Oh, you'll know that some places are always barred to you.
You know that you can't go near the border of the estate.  You
know you can't go near a car.  You know you can't enter any room
which contains a telphone.

Not that you want to leave.  This is not an NC fantasy of that
sort.  Despite the sometimes cruel games we play with you, you
don't wish to leave.

I just want you to understand - to know with absolute certainty -
that you cannot leave.  No matter how much you might wish to,
you would be incapable of getting out of the estate or or summoning
any help.  The only way you could ever leave is by going to the
owner of the estate (me, as it's my fantasy) and asking very
nicely.  Then you might be allowed out.  Possibly without the
belt and collars.  More probably with them on, and knowing that
there was a timer on them and/or a distance setting, so you can
only go where you were given permission to go, and can only be
gone for as long as you were allowed to be gone.

And since I'd miss you while you were gone, when you got back
I'd chain you quite securely so you had to stay where I put
you for a long time.


But aside from those known limits, you'd not know where you
could go and be sure not to get a shock.  The range that you
could walk would be constantly changing, and areas which 
weren't off limits would be changed to off limits w/o you
knowing it.  Not while you were in them (if you receive a
shock while stationary it would be me letting you know that
I'm thinking about you); well, one exception: sometimes staying
in your room would not be an option.  But the room you stepped 
out of minutes ago, if you attempt to reenter it you might get 
a shock to your right.  And you won't know if you can enter
the garden, or if so how far into it you can go (I'd try
to have your favorite parts far inside it).  Or if you
can approach the brook on a warm day, or sit in the arbor
on a sunny day.  You might find yourself inside an invisible
pen on the lawn some warm, bright summer day, unable to 
step more than a few feet in any direction without a shock;
you might even find that your thigh-collars have to stay
a certain height, so you couldn't sit down.

No, my dear, I wouldn't make your life unrelenting misery.
Most of the time the collars would be uncomfortable
and perhaps embarrassing (did I mention the short skirts
you'd have to wear ?), but not painful.  You'd generally
be allowed to move about freely, within the known limits.

But you'd be reminded often enough that you were under
control, and that you can be toyed with and there's nothing
you can do about it.  Because you're a slave, and your
owner's plaything.

How often is often enough ?

Often enough to be sure that you never for even a moment
forget that you are owned.  And that nothing you can do
will change that fact.

---------------------------------------------------
Some thoughts for/of a femsub friend


I was flicking channels a few days ago and saw an American Justice
segment on kidnapping.  One segment concerned an Exxon executive
who'd been kidnapped, blindfolded, chained, and locked in a box.
So far standard enough.  

What struck me is where they took him next: to a commercial
storage facility.

I have often had fantasies about putting slaves literally
"on the shelf" and making them wait there (bound and blindfolded,
of course) until I was ready to use them again.  But putting
someone in storage was an idea which hadn't occured to me before.

I wouldn't use their method, of course.  I'd given some thought
to simply taking someone to a storage location and locking her in.
I seem to remember some such locations which were just about the
size that could accomodate a chair and a woman sitting on the
chair (with a couple water bottles at her feet).  Some are rather
larger, and could allow her to move about.

But I don't want her moving.

I do rather like having her hands cuffed behind her and her
chained to the wall by her neck.  But I can't leave someone 
standing like that for a long time.  Sitting on the floor chained 
by her neck is safer but still not safe enough.   And chained around 
the waist with several feet of slack is fun but not fun enough.


What I decided that I wanted is a nice strong (with padding)
suspension harness, which I could put her in and hang her up,
with the weight and strain distributed over her body.
Not hung terribly high.  Just high enough that even if she 
stretched her legs and reached down as far as she could with 
her toes (lovely image, that) she couldn't quite touch the floor 
(if she could, of course, then I'd elevate her a bit higher, as 
the optimal situation is her outstreteched toes oh-so-close to 
touching the floor, but not quite making it).

My romantic and my practical sides were in dispute after this.


My practical side wants her in the skimpiest bikini legal
in her locality, with her hands locked in leather cuffs in 
front of her, but otherwise free so she could reach up and 
remove the blindfold and pull the release cord with would 
drop her unto the wrestling mat on the floor, and with her 
purse (with cash, ID, driver's license, car keys, handcuff
keys, and key to storage garage) by the door, and herr car
just outside (so if she wished, or if she needed to, she could
get out).  She'd be given a password, and told to go with anyone
who had a key for the storage site and had the password.  When
they came for her, she'd be taken, blindfolded (and being 
distracted so she'd not know where she was going), to a secure 
destination (i.e. "scream if you want to, dear"), and fucked.

Only after her master's cock was moving within her would she
hear her master's voice (certainly an interesting variation on
the old RCA slogan/image), so she'd know this was ravishment
by her master rather than rape by a stranger (but if she thought
for a short time that it could be rape (and wondered for a long time
if she might be raped), that's not so bad (for her; mileage varies)).

And when she'd been used sexually - used without regard for
her pleasure, without interest in her orgasm or lack of one
(actually, lack of one at this time would be prefered, but the 
pretense is that her reaction is irrelevant, as she's an object 
being used), used as her master's sex toy - she'd be taken
back to storage and hung up again, to wait to be summoned 
again.

When summoned again, she'd be taken out of the harness, and
left standing blindfolded (the thick blindfold she'd be wearing
would also provide eye protection), arms folded and bound behind
her, waiting for the whip to find her again and again and again, 
until she was on the ground crying, at which point she'd be used
again. And again and again, with whatever instruments are available
for use on her (hands and tongue and other tools if/when other
instruments wear out).  But this time (well, after the first 
usage, anyway) with attention to making her come again and again 
and again.


My romantic side wants much of the same, but wants to start with
her naked and her hands locked to the body harness, and with her 
blindfold part of a locked head harness she can't escape from.  
And wants her with no way of releasing the harness, and no way out 
of the storage even if she got her hands free and reached the floor.  
Her ankles would be closely hobbled and there'd be a bit in her
teeth to take away kicking and biting as means of resistance.
And there'd be no passwords and no warning about people coming 
for her; when they did, she'd go with them because she had no choice, 
and any resistance she offered would make no difference whatsoever.

She'd have no way out of the suspension, and if she could
get down, no way out of the harness/handcuffs/hobble/head-harness,
and if she could get out of them, no way out of the room, and
if she could get out of the room, the problem of how to get anyplace 
naked and w/o transport or money.  


My romantic side doesn't want her choice and freedom and any
possibility of resistance or refusal removed because she'd escape 
if only she could.  But rather because I want her to feel, and
to know, the impossibility of escape.  I want her to feel totally
powerless and utterly helpless, to know that nothing she can do
will alter her fate.  To know that anything at all can be done 
to her.

And that the only reason she isn't going to be harmed (hurt very
much, but not harmed) is not because of law or fear or morality
or because of her inalienable rights or because of anything that
she can do.  Her captors are not the sort to be cowed by such
things, so no law will keep her alive and whole if they want her
dead or dismembered, and there is *nothing* that she can do to
stop them from doing whatever they want to do with her.  

She is going to survive unharmed for one reason and one reason
only.  Which is that that captors and tormentors - who hurt 
her so cruelly and with such immense joy in her pain and 
powerlessness, and who revel in her squirms and pleas and 
tears - her captors and tormentors love her.  And every minute 
that she thinks she is hanging alone and forgotten in that 
storage garage, they are thinking of her and aching at the thought 
of her and wanting her so badly, but exercising restraint so as 
to induce her to feel what they want her to feel, to feel the 
objectification and the powerlessness.


Whch, of course, my practical side also wishes her to feel, that
combination of utter powerlessness and complete safety, the knowledge
that there is nothing at all she can do to protect herself, and
also nothing at all she needs to do to protect herself, as she is
totally safe in her captivity (well, safe from death or lasting
damage, physical or emotional; safe from harm; decidely not safe
from restraint, pain, and sexual use).

But my practical side worries a bit more about unforeseen events,
and so would sacrifice some of the thrill for additional safety.
Because she's much too valuable to risk losing.


****************************************************

"He Knows Better (?)"


The naked man was being moved down the hall.  Strictly speaking
he was moving under his own power, but that's not how it felt.
His hands were locked behind him and his ankles hobbled. Any
protests he might make were stifled by the gag in his mouth.
The thin collar around his neck and the leash held by his mistress
would have been enough to move him, but as she walked before him
holding the collar she was exerting no force on him.  That was
being done by her two associates, sadistic women in training 
who sometimes assisted her with her submissives.  Each of them
held a pole with a loop of thin cord.  One loop had gone around 
his neck above his collar, the other around his scrotum, and both
had been tightened until he wanted no more pressure on either part.

And so as he hobbled backward down the hall after his mistress,
the women scarcely needed to push very hard on either pole to
convince him to move where they wanted him to move.  Where that
was he didn't yet know.  He figured he'd find out soon enough.
And given his mistress' displeasure over his, ah, outside activities,
he wasn't sure he'd like it.  She'd seemed cheerful today when she
appeared with her two junior sadists - junior in skill, but not
in cruelty - and took him into custody.  He wasn't sure he liked
that, either.

They backed him up to a door and stopped him there.  His mistress
opened the door and stepped inside.  He started to turn his head
but a quick tug on the loop around his neck persuaded him to
keep his eyes where his captors wanted them.  Keeping his eyes
where his mistress wanted them was indeed good idea, he now
thought. 

In any event, his curiousity was soon satisfied when his mistress
said to bring him in.  Not much was in the room.  A couple tables
and a few chairs.  At one table a sadistic friend of his mistress
was feeding a salami through a meat slicer; she gave him a big,
happy, but not wholely friendly smile was he was brought into the
room.  As he was directed towards the table and kept standing
there as the slicing of the one salami continued and another
one begun, his thoughts began to become awkward.  He was already
feeling awkward because of the way all four women were watching
him watching the meat being sliced.

And when the junior sadists began to stroke and caress
him, well, he couldn't have said that it didn't feel
good (such soft hands on such hard women), but it surely
felt strange.  Especially when one begin to stroke and 
fondle his cock and got it good and firm.  But he didn't
believe they'd harm him.  Still, when they moved him
closer to the table he was scared and resisted some, to
no purpose but his captors' amusement.  And when they
forced him to climb up onto and kneel upon the table while 
they tried to figure out how to work this, he struggled and 
tried to talk through his gag, but neither did him any good,
a fact that impressed upon him again how totally helpless
he was.  It seemed to do the same for the women. But they
were alot happier about it (though he couldn't deny that
some part of him was pretty happy about it - and that was
the last part that should have been).

He felt sort of silly when they decided that it wasn't going 
to work, and moved him off the table.  Of course they weren't 
going to do that to him.  Abashed, he was docile as he was 
tied down tightly on another table.

Though he did get nervous when they started heating
iron bars with blowtorches.  Someone passing by
saw this and stopped to inquire if a branding is intended,
and he was relieved when his dominant said "no".

But a bit nervous when she smiled at him so sweetly, and 
said "these are for cauterizing".

***********************
"Ordeal"

The sexy slave slut looked especially delightful naked
save for the leather belt locked around her waist to which
her wrists were cuffed at her sides, and with her ankles
locked in the cuffs at either end of the spreader bar.

Her owner circled her, enjoying the sight, enjoying
how this bondage kept all her orifices available for use,
and most of her parts available for torture, while also
keeping her all but defenseless and greatly reducing
her mobility.  A mobility that her high heels would
further reduce. 

"You look delicious, slave.  And you'll look even
better in this", her owner said, holding a head
harness up in front of her.

"When this is on, slave, you'll be unable to see
anything.  The earpieces go with a remote tape
player and transmitter, and they allow you to hear
only the music, or white noise, or the taped whippings
or screams, or the commands of your captors (in a distorted
voice), should they decide to speak to you.  The mouthpiece, 
a nice framework of hard plastic, will keep your tongue 
held down securely so you can't speak, but it will allow
drool out and fluid in.  And, as you can see, it
can be pulled out and detached or left dangling
from the harness when your mouth and tongue are
desired.   And, of course, the collar and harness
has multiple attachment points so your head can
be controlled and manipulated as pleases whoever
has you."

Your training as a slave is almost done.  There's
one final task.  A test, perhaps.  More like an
ordeal, really.  As a slave your body is not your
own.  Which is easy for you to accept when your
owner keeps doing things to you you like, or at
least like to contemplate and remember.  So this
ordeal is needed to see if you are really ready to
be a slave."

"I won't be with you tonight, or tomorrow, or the
day after that.  I'm sending you to some friends.
Who, where, how many, you don't need to know.
There'll be men and women, with a variety of
interests and skills, but all highly skilled
at sex and torture.  With this harness on your
head the whole time you'll not see them, and you'll
never in your entire life know who they were,
though you will see some of them again."

"The are going to spend three days using you in every
way a woman can be used, and hurting you in a great
many different ways.  There will be no lasting physical
damage.  They are experts, and they will not allow
my property to be damaged.  But the pain will be
unimaginably severe at times - many times - over these
three days.  And the sex will be highly inventive
sometimes, and very basic and down and dirty at other 
times.  And there will be a *lot* of it.   You'll be 
allowed no modesty, no privacy, no dignity.  And shown 
no mercy. Any pride you have, and any resistance you display, 
will be ruthlessly broken.

Your resistance won't be held against you, dear.  It's
expected considering what will happen to you.  But it will
be broken.  You'll be made to understand that you have 
no options, no choices, no freedom, and no control over
your life or your body or your future.  That you're a
piece of property and you'll be used any way anyone who
has you wants to use you, and you can't do anything
about that.  What you like doesn't matter.  What you want
doesn't matter.  Your will doesn't matter.  Your feelings
don't matter.  What matters is what you are.  A slave.
Property.  A warm, breathing, flesh and blood sextoy.
You're not a human being.  You don't have rights.  You
don't have dignity.  You don't have choices.  Your a
slave and you're property and for the remainder of your
existence you will be used for the pleasure of others."

"Let's get you into the harness, slave.  I'll leave the
transmitter off so you can hear me."



"That looks precious, Precious".

"Here, sit down, slave.  I'm putting your ultrahigh
heels on you.  You'll have to walk down a long hallway
in these shoes and the spreader bar and with a lot of
people watching, in order to get to where your ordeal
will begin.  I'm not going to close the ankle straps.
I'm going to leave you here alone for some time, so
you can think about what's coming.  If you want to be
my slave, this is an ordeal you must go through.  If
you don't want to be my slave, you don't have to."

"When I come back, if your shoes are still on, I'll close 
and lock the buckles on your shoes.  Once those locks are on, 
this is going to happen no matter what.  if you don't want it
to happen, shake those shoes off before I return".

"Now, slave, I'll leave you to your thoughts".

**********************************


FWIW, I've found that for some people to have to receive admiration
is one of the hardest things they can bear (it's important, of course,
that it be made very clear that it's admiration they are receiving;
having someone in that position and then mocking her would be about 
the most horrendously cruel (and not in a good way) thing one could do).

*********
Receiving Admiration



 [regarding a woman who usually wears her hair up and braided
  having worn it down on an occasion]

Well, it would seem more practical for travelling.

And making your hair easier to grab is a nice element.

Though it would also be fun to make you take down your hair while
you remove your clothes.  Or as the last step in the process which
starts when you stand with your hands behind your head while I
look slowly up and down your body, and then have you turn very slowly
to be ogled some more, before you unbutton your blouse then stand
and wait for the order to take off your blouse, then turn around again.
Then take off your bra and stand hands behind your head for a long
time before slowly turning again, then taking off your skirt and
standing and turning, then removing your slip, and standing and turning
and then removing your panties and standing with hands behind your head
for a very long time before you are told to make a quarter turn, then
another, then, after a long time spent admiring your bottom, another
quarter turn, and then another, and then stand to be admired for a
bit longer, and then you are ordered to turn around again, very, *very*
slowly.

And after making this last extremely slow turn to be admired, you'd be 
told to take down your hair and shake it loose, then make another
(somewhat quicker) turn, then kneel down and crawl to your owner to 
kiss his feet then move so your ass is in front of him and put your face
on the cushion on the floor with your bare ass up and waiting use while 
his cane rubs against your crotch for a long but unpredictable time before
he grabs your loose hair and pulls your head up and back enough to growl in 
your ear that "now you're going to get what's coming to you, slut" - said
while the cane lightly taps your buttom - "and there's nothing you
can do to stop it".

*******

"Regarding 'a Testicle Stomping Fembot' "



Hmm, well, if they were what the name implied, I imagine they
would be on many wish lists (FWIW, not mine; it'd be somewhat
like how visiting a professional femdom has no appeal to me
(well, with one exception, I do find the idea of my dominant
taking me to a prodomme to use her facilities and to have her
assistance/instruction/oversight while working on me) - at least
the professional may in fact want to be doing this stuff to me
(though I'd never really be able to believe it while I was
paying) but the dommedroid wouldn't allow me even that delusion).
But "bot" short for "robot" needn't mean a device that appeared
human, so I suppose that some "dommegins for the dungeon" might
be available now, and one of these "gins" might be a testicle
stomper/stressor, if that were what one cottoned for.

Perhaps a glider of a sort (one use of glider in the USA being
for a piece of outdoor furniture somewhere between a couch
and a swing).  The bulk of it would be curved to fit a 
submissive laying bound face-down across if (perhaps fitted
with the sort of plastic runner used for office chairs, but
of course the runner would be applied (very tightly) upside
down, so the submissive would being laying atop the points
of the sharp plastic studs meant to grip carpet.  His arms 
and legs would be tied down securely, with a couple cords
on each limb positioned to be tightened and released to
constrict and allow circulation (said variance being its
own form of torture (it's one the Spainish Inquisition
common employed (along with strappado and the water torture
(not the supposed Chinese version; this one involved pouring
water down a helpless victim's mouth and making him drink 
vast quantities to avoid drowning)), and also being useful to
create a pins and needles feeling in the upper arms and thighs
before beating them.  The device on which he laid would allow
access to his penis and scrotum, and his scrotum tied in a 
"figure 8" manner to seperate and highlight each testicle; the
end of the cord could then be tied to a fixed ring.  His penis,
after manipulation to make it more manageable could be tied
(at a couple points on the shaft including just below the head)
to the underside of a small board.

And his "seperated and highlighted" testicles fitted into 
devices like wide, flat (or perhaps not flat; perhaps some
studs or low, dull needles on the interior surface) pliers,
with a spring action to hold them in place.

Now, when the slider (also set in springs so there'd be resistance
to pushing it past a certain point, but it would initially move
easily) was moved forward, by whatever means (a push/kick, a paddling, 
or the thrusting of some object into the anus of the victim (there
might perhaps be some stirrups built into the slider for a person
who wanted to use a strap-on dildo; it might not optimize other
features of the dommegin, but it would be nice to provide some
stirrups a woman might enjoy getting into), it would  1) stretch
the captive's scrotum,  2) push his penis (and of course 
beginning with the head of the penis, uncovered top and bottom)
into a set of bristly brushes (not too bristly; the initial thrusts
shouldn't be so bad, they might even be a pleasantly torturous
feeling (i.e. "I can't stand how intense this feels"), but after
sliding through the bristles time after time it will become
agony, and greater agony each time it's repeated), and the 
"pliers" will (by the operation of some spring-driven devices
I'm too mechanically inept to picture but which I'm sure are
pretty basic mechanics) close upon and squeeze his testicles,
squeezing tighter the further the glider is pushed and loosening
as the glider came back; there would be a limit to how far this 
could be and therefore how tight they could squeeze, but just as
his cock would be becoming more and more sensitive making the
same movement across the same bristles more and more painful,
the soreness of his testicles would keep increasing making each
squeeze in the set of pliers (one for each testicle) more painful.

So if the dominant were to choose to anally fuck the victim, as
she became more excited and thrust more quickly and more forcefully,
each thrust would be subjecting her plaything to increasing levels
of pain, which she might perhaps enjoy and which might goad her
on to more passionate thrusting.  A couple options while riding
him (especially if using stirrups) are wide, hard rubber straps 
for beating his back and arms (or perhaps thighs, though she might
want to be careful aiming for them lest she hit herself), and a
pair of zippers of alligator clamps around his sides and chest which
would be attached to reins she could use to pull herself forward.
Until she was spent and, hopefully, happy, at which time she could,
if she wished, lay across her subject's back and stroke/cuddle him,
or bite/claw him (or perhaps both), whatever was her preference at 
the moment.

Of course, she could leave the captive in position on the dommegin
between sessions, letting him fear more each successive mounting,
as each ride will be more painful for him than was the one before
(and there is nothing he can do to prevent it; struggling in the
dommegin adds to the pain (and in any event he'd be too securely
restrained to get free no matter how much he struggled; he'd be
entirely dependent upon the mercy of his dominant).


And perhaps between rides she could slip on rubber gloves and
rub some irritating tonics onto his cock and balls (if he squirms
a lot in response to the burning sensation, he might cause himself
to be tortured by the gin, which might be of some amusement value).


A night on (in ?)  such a dommegin might not leave his testicles
stomped, but they will surely be aching quite terribly.  And if
she wants his testicles stomped, well, after pulling him off the
dommegin and letting him fall/slump to the floor, she could always
stomp them herself as much as she wanted (though she might want 
to first observe his agonized response even to the lightest,
gentlest handling of his cock and balls (and then, perhaps, 
enjoy his responses to increasingly less gentle handling of them
(I'm assuming that she doesn't mind seeing a man cry).

**********************

"Safe"   


 [A "Strange Woman" Image, i.e. all told in the
  female dominant's words]


Hmmm... I like it.  I can tell that you don't, which is
of course one reason why I like it.

I've always liked the images you come up with in which
the lovely woman is standing on one high heel shod foot,
the other tied to her thigh, with her hands tied behind
her and a rope around her neck, or tied to her hair.

And I do like using your ideas against you.  Of course,
I like using other things against you, too, like those
nice toys that men come equipped with which make it so
easy to cause you pain and make you afraid.  So I changed
the scenario a bit.  You also like imagining women with
the hands tied together and raised above and behind their
heads and a long rope pulled taut into their labia and
tied to the front of a belt.  But they might enjoy pulling
on their ropes.  I don't think you'll enjoy pulling on
yours.  Even if I just had it tied to your balls you'd
find that unpleasant.  But with your scrotum tied to display
your balls, and with that set of pliers setup so as to squeeze
your testicle and to squeeze it even tighter if you move
your hands foreward even a little, that's much better, if
I do say so myself.  Relieve the stain on your arms even
a little - and I can see how they're trembling, the strain
is already terrible, isn't it dear ? - and you squeeze your
testicle; move your hands much more and hurt your testicle
more; move your hands too much, and you crush your testicle.

And since I do like the raised leg, I do enjoy seeing you trying
to balance on one foot with the other leg up and forward, and
a cord from your ankle to the pliers on your other ball.


I do so wish I could have you with a noose around your neck
- or a ring of sharp wire; oh, how I'd like to see the wire 
slicing small cuts in your neck.  But as your dominant I need
to keep you safe.  Or at least preserve you as a functioning
plaything until/unless I find a way of breaking you that's
sufficiently thrilling.  And while this is fun, it isn't
fun enough to risk killing you.  You don't believe me when
I say that I will kill you someday, do you, dear ?  I *am*
going to, dear, once I find a way that's worthy of you and
hot enough for me.  But you don't want to believe me.  And
even if you did, you're quite powerless to leave me.

Ah, well, that's a matter for another day.  You don't die
today, dear, because it's my wish that you live.  But I do
want to keep you wobbling on one foot, and your hair is too
short to be tied as a way of making you stand.

Which is why I pierced your ears today - I do hope it hurt
a lot.  I'm sure sliding this wire through the hole in the
top of your ear will.  It does seem to be hurting you, that's
good.  And now the other ear.  It's quite OK if you grimace.

Now, I just tie off the wire, which I ran thorough a dangling
ring above your head.  And now if you don't maintain your balance
you'll fall and tear the wire through your ears, which will be
*very* painful for you.  But which won't kill you, or significantly
impair my use of you.  

So you just keep trying to stand on that one leg, dear, while
trying to keep your arms stretched and your other leg up 
- BTW, your raised knee and thigh make such a nice target for
my crop, and for my little hammer.  If you don't there'll be
a terrible pressure applied to your testicles, and you'll pass
out from the pain and fall and get your ears all ripped up.

You just stand there and sweat and tremble, dear.  I know that
it's not all from the exertion, though I know the strain is
terrible.  I know part of the sweat and trembling is because
you're very frightened.  With reason.  Because I'm not going
to save you when you reach the limits of your endurance.  I'm
just going to lay back and watch you and slowly masturbate
while you suffer.  If I come enough times before your limits
are exceeded, I may let you out of this predicament without
any more injury.  But if I don't, well, I'm sure I'll come
seeing you screaming as your balls are squeezed every tighter,
and seeing the wire rip through your ears and watching your
still bound body squirming and bleeding on the floor - that's
why I had you put down that roll of plastic - that will surely also
make me come.  So I've nothing to lose from letting your suffering
go on and on and on, even if it does exceed your limits.  So you
should be very afraid, dear.

How delicious it is when I can see the fear in your face, along
with the pain.  Please do go on suffering and fearing, dear 
- not that you have any choice in the matter.  And struggling,
if you wish, though as that moan makes clear, any struggle will 
just cause you more pain.  There's no way out, dear, no way out
for you except my mercy.

And I love your suffering too much to show you any mercy.  At
least not when I know that you are safe.

*****



 The soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm FAQ is available from the WWW at: 
     http://www.unrealities.com/adult/ssbb/faq.htm
 The soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm charter is available at:
     http://www.mindspring.com/~frites/charter.htm
 Both can be found on the SSB Webpage, the URL of which is:
     http://www.phszx81.demon.co.uk/ssb/ 
 The "Welcome to ASB !", almost all of which applies to SSB,
   can be found at:
     http://www.mindspring.com/~frites/wel.htm


-- 
Steven S. Davis  * sd@magenta.com * ssdavis@netaxs.com * ssdavis@ot.com
Homepage, kinky  : http://www.magenta.com/~sd/sd.html
Homepage, vanilla: http://www.magenta.com/~sd
Stories archive  : ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/sd
