Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Hungry Guy
Title: JUSTICE FOR ALL
Universe: Kathy
Summary: Everyone gets their just desserts.
Keywords: M/FFF M/M Mpov Mdom Fsub Msub het gay nc ws copr tort viol
humil cbt eunich piv caution
Language: english

   JUSTICE FOR ALL

   By Hungry Guy

   ************ * PROLOGUE * ************

   Five years earlier, Mindy had won the national Powerball lottery.  With
her newfound millions, she and Guy had purchased an old dairy farm out in
rural western Pennsylvania.

   Mindy had disappeared from her family when she left to work together
with Guy on their mutual fantasy, leaving no trace whatsoever.

   They renovated the farmhouse, but it was the barn that they were truly
interested in.  Its 50 feet by 100 feet footprint was bigger than the lot
in New Jersey that Guy's last house was built on.  It stood 30 feet to the
base of its gabled roof, then another 20 feet to the peak.  The ground
level, which opened to a paddock on one side, they converted to a dungeon,
slave quarters, garage, and utility mechanical rooms.  The first floor,
which was ground level to the front of the barn facing the homestead, and
above, they converted to a luxurious home.

   When the renovations were complete, and the sub-contractors all gone
their separate ways, they had a lavish goodbye party for Mindy, just the
two of them.

   ******************* * JUSTICE FOR ALL * *******************

   Guy woke with a yawn and stepped out of his king-size bed.  The plush
carpeting felt so good under his feet.  He walked across the room and
tapped the switch that opened the heavy room-darkening curtains, revealing
a panoramic window that overlooked the unspoiled countryside from the third
floor.  Not another house was in sight.  His nearest neighbor was two miles
away.

   He glanced down at what appeared to be a small table covered by about
four heavy blankets in the corner of the room.  Lifting the end of the
blankets up, he took in the view of the attractive naked woman within,
lying on even more blankets, all scrunched up into a fetal position inside
the tiny pet cage.

   "Good morning, Fuschia," he said cheerfully.

   "Good morning, Master," she answered in a slight British accent.

   "Were you warm enough last night, Fuschia?  I know I keep my bedroom
chilly at night.  I can give you more blankets if you'd like."

   "I'm fine, Master.  If anything, it got too warm during the night.  You
can take some off."

   Guy removed one of the blankets draped over the cage and folded it up
and put it away.  He then saw that her water bottle, hanging from the cage,
was empty.  He removed it and unscrewed the cap.  Having just risen, he had
a pretty full bladder, so he inserted his dick into the bottle and filled
it.  He then screwed the cap back on the bottle and placed it back in the
bracket holding it in place on the side of the cage, with the metal tube
extending downward from the cap and into the cage.

   "Drink it while it's still warm, Fuschia," he said.

   "Thank you, Master," said Fuschia as she put her mouth to the tube and
began drinking the yellow liquid within.

   Despite the 100 degree August heat wave outside, his air conditioning
kept his bedroom at a chilly 65 degrees, Guy's ideal sleeping temperature.

   He stepped into his master bathroom where the independent temperature
control kept the bathroom at a warm 75 degrees for showers and baths.  He
used the toilet before taking his morning shower.  As he flushed, it
simultaneously saddened him and thrilled him to know how his waste was
"processed" by his custom-built waste treatment system.

   After his long hot shower, which he could run indefinitely due to the
tankless on-demand water heater feeding the shower stall, he made his way
to his private study which, like most of the rest of the house, he kept at
a comfortable 70 degrees.

   He turned on his computer, which was connected to a high-capacity trunk
line of the type that most Internet providers would split up and use to
sell broadband connections to customers.

   His latest story was getting poor scores on Literotica and Stories
Online, but hard-core BDSM stories rarely fared well on either of those two
sites.  Yet, the story had earned respectable hits per the ASSTR download
count where his fan base was mostly concentrated.  And he had even received
some positive feedback from fans, mostly submissive women with secret rape
and humiliation fantasies.

   Checking his email, a new woman answered his personal ad to be his cum
sponge.  He answered her, knowing that 99 out of 100 such replies were from
wanks or trolls who would never reply again.  At that, he felt a twang of
sadness that he'd never again correspond with Mindy.  The few years that he
and Mindy spent living together as master and slave while building this
house were among the happiest of his life, and he missed her.  Mindy had
turned into a good friend and confidant back when Kathy, his love of a
lifetime, broke up with him because she found a rich sleazy doctor to be
her sugar daddy.

   "Hmmm," he thought.  "Kathy and her ilk must all be hungry by now."

   Guy walked out into the main hallway.  The four doors to each of the
four master bedroom suites opened into this hallway.  An open stairwell led
down to the second floor.  But feeling lazy, Guy took the elevator down to
the first floor.  In the kitchen, filled with stainless steel appliances,
he toasted a bagel and heated some pre-cooked bacon, and made a sandwich. A
glass of orange juice completed his breakfast, which he carried into the
home theater where he watched an old episode of Star Trek on the LCD
television that filled the whole wall.

   Then, crossing over into the recreation center, he dove into the heated
indoor pool that he kept bathtub-warm.  After swimming a few laps, he
soaked in the Jacuzzi for a while, letting the high-pressure jets massage
his body all over, then he took another shower to rinse the chlorine off.

   By noon, he was relaxed and in the mood for some real fun.  He took the
elevator down to the ground floor and down a short hallway.  Passing a
plate glass window that presented him with a view of his garage.  His
Bentley, Rolls Royce, Ferrari, Lamborghini, Porsche, Cadillac, and Hummer
were all as he had left them.  Oddly, mixed in was a dark grayish-blue 2005
Chrysler Town & Country minivan with a gash down the passenger side and one
flat tire.  Another oddity was a little yellow 1973 Volkswagen Beetle, his
very first car, that held a special place in his heart.  Lacking air
conditioning, and with persnickety heat, it was drivable only in the spring
and fall.  Yet he recalled his college days at O.C.C.C.  during one
particular blizzard after classes.  All the other guys in their Camaros and
Barracudas and Mustangs were spinning their wheels stuck at odd angles
along the driveway to the student parking lot behind the Student Commons.
His little bug zig-zagged through the maze of muscle cars onto South Street
with ease.  A moment later, he was on Dolson Avenue, passing Playtogs, and
heading home.

   Opening the gray steel door at the end of the corridor, he stepped into
the utility room.  The triple redundant air-conditioning systems, each one
alone capable of maintaining the whole house at a comfortable temperature,
hummed and whooshed in their vigilance.  The vents along the top of the
units glowed an eerie blue, indicating that the UV-C filtration system was
keeping the air free of mold, fungus, and bacteria.  He took in a deep
breath of the pure clean air that his home provided him.

   One of his twin 100-gallon water heaters was gurgling and pinging,
showing its age.  He glanced at its service record and figured that it
might be getting on the time to replace it.  But no hurry yet.  The many
multiple redundancies that he and Mindy had built into this house gave him
a sense of confidence and trust.

   He stepped over and leaned on one of the two standby power generators,
one powered by the town gas utility, and the other by a fuel oil tank out
back.  In a fit of whimsy, he grabbed the EXO switch and killed the power
to his home from the electric utility--a full-blown blackout.  The lights
never even flickered.  The one generator sprang to life.  He walked over
and shut off the master gas valve, killing the generator.  The oil
generator sprang to life, again without even a flicker of the lights,
thanks to the bank of batteries against one wall.

   Lastly, he stepped over to a large 6-foot tank lying on its side about 4
feet above the floor.  A drainpipe from all the toilets in the house merged
above this tank and fed into it from above.  The pipe exiting from under
the tank connected to the main house drain and exited the house to the
leach fields out back.  A digital display attached to one of the legs on
which the tank was mounted glowed in orange numerals: OXYGEN 98%, PULSE 52.
Guy smiled sadly.  The pulse oxymeter strapped to Mindy's finger showed
that she was still alive after 5 years of living entirely off of his waste.
The three aquarium air pumps hummed quietly, pumping air through three
clear rubber aquarium air tubes into an open pipe end and into the tank,
giving Mindy a constant supply of fresh air.  He tested the three spares
that he kept on an adjacent shelf, and they all worked well.

   He knew, objectively, that solid waste contains about 25% nutrients and
that urine was sterile upon leaving the human body.  As long as he never
flushes caustic cleaning chemicals down any of the toilets, there was no
reason that Mindy shouldn't live a normal full human life span.

   Guy pictured Mindy in his mind, lying flat on her back on a metal plate
welded inside the tank.  Her wrists and ankles strapped tightly in place by
metal straps welded to that same plate.  The drainpipe entering from above
ended inside her mouth with a strap around her head to prevent her from
pulling her head away and removing the pipe from her mouth.  The pipe had a
small hole just above her face, covered in screen, to allow excess liquid
that she couldn't swallow fast enough to spill out into the tank without
drowning her, but forcing her to consume all solids--for she could breathe
only when that pipe was empty.

   But try as he might, he just couldn't imagine what it must be like for
her lying there in the dark, hour after hour, day after day, week after
week, month after month, year after year, subsisting by consuming the
sewage that flooded her mouth whenever he flushed a toilet.  After five
years totally immobile in absolute darkness, all her muscles must have
atrophied, as must have her eyes.

   He left the utility room back into the corridor and opened a door into a
storage room.  Shelves filled the room, piled high with all sorts of
clutter that one accumulates from the task of living a life: boxes of old
family photos, cherished childhood toys, HO-scale trains for a model
railroad empire that he never got around to building, clothing that's still
in good condition but no longer fashionable, etc., etc.

   Pressing the combination on the lock on a door at the far end of the
room, he entered a smaller storage room with even more clutter filling the
shelves.

   Then, pressing the combination on another lock on another door at the
far end of this second storage room, he entered foyer-type room painted all
black.  Opening another door in a perpendicular wall, he stepped into his
dungeon and surveyed the scene.

   Over the past few months, he had watched the news carefully for reports
of missing people from the Cleveland area.  Of the keywords that he checked
for, the only minor news item that he came across was the city of Westlake
seeking a new Financial Director.

   Anne was standing with her head clamped into the end of a long metal arm
mounted on a pivot such that she could walk around in a large circle.  She
looked like she had lost about 100 pounds since becoming his slave.  After
another 100, she might start looking like an attractive woman.  Guy really
felt no ill will toward Anne, for she was Mangla's victim as much as Guy
was.  But each time Guy had gone to Westlake to capture Mangla, Anne was
with him.  Such was her misfortune, for Mangla had to face justice for
stealing his love of a lifetime.  Yet, Guy didn't feel all that bad for
Anne either; after all, she had been in league with Mangla.

   Guy clapped his hands.  "Wake up, Annie!"

   Anne gasped awake as Guy hit the switch to start the motor; the pivot
started to turn, forcing Anne to begin her daily exercise regimen of
jogging in a continuous circle.  If she faltered, the arm would just drag
her by the neck until she caught up again.

   Doctor Pawan Mangla was lying on the floor with Aaron Mizen.  The two
men were naked and harnessed together with the most bizarre looking
assembly of leather straps, rings, and buckles.  The two men were lying,
each with the other's penis in their mouths in 69 fashion.  Also, their
arms were each wrapped around the other's body and shackled together.

   At that moment, Paul began to spasm rhythmically while Aaron suddenly
began to struggle and try to pull away.  A moment later, cum began to ooze
from Aaron's mouth around Paul's cock.  "Enjoy your meal, skinny faggot,"
said Guy to Aaron.  While Paul enjoyed his orgasm, Guy walked over to the
utility closet and fetched his pooper-scooper, for every morning there was
a small pile of excrement on the floor behind each of the two men's asses.
Small puddles of urine also occupied the floor under each man's mouth.

   After mopping the floor around the two men, Guy got a cloth and a spray
can of ether.  Spraying the cloth with the ether, he held the cloth to both
Aaron and Paul until both were asleep.  Working quickly, he manhandled
Paul's limp body upon a stretcher and shackled and belted him down
securely.

   Walking over to the cell that housed Paul's friend, and Kathy's
subsequent boyfriend, Mohammed, Guy then knocked Mohammed out.  A short
while later, Mohammed and Aaron were harnessed together sucking each
other's cocks just as Paul and Aaron were earlier.

   Guy then prepared for surgery.  Wheeling Paul into an impromptu
operating room, he removed an assortment of scalpels, clamps, and other
medical paraphernalia from his autoclave.  But Guy wanted his patient to be
awake and alert during the surgery, so he then walked over to the
cellblock.

   Angela sat on her bunk in her cell.  Guy had no bitterness for Angela
either; she was to Aaron what Annie was to Paul: a semi-innocent
co-conspirator.  Angela looked up at Guy then looked away.

   In the next cell, Kathy was shackled spread-eagle to the wall of her
cell.  She was a very attractive woman, with a cute face and strawberry
blonde hair set in a ponytail.  Her only blemishes were a mangled tattoo
above and to the side of her muff, and a hysterectomy scar that ran up from
her crotch to her navel.

   Guy opened the autoclave and removed some darts.  "Hey slut!" he called
out.  "Wake up!"

   Kathy gasped as he let the dart fly.  It struck her in the belly, for 1
point, evoking a curdling scream from Kathy's mouth and sending a trickle
of blood flow down her belly, and down her leg.

   The next dart hit her in the right breast, evoking another scream,
though it missed her areola, scoring 10 points.

   The third dart scored a bulls-eye, right in her left nipple, scoring 100
points.  Instead of screaming this time, Kathy turned white and fainted.

   "Hmm," he mused.  "111 points.  Not bad." He jotted the score down in
his log and then returned to his patient awaiting his operation.

   "How are you feeling, Paul?" asked Guy.

   "Fuck you, you bastard!" coughed Mangla in a slight Indian accent.

   "Nope!  You're never going to drug up and fuck someone else's girlfriend
ever again, motherfucker!  But hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'm
not Board Certified either." Guy laughed and pulled on a pair of latex
gloves.  Guy then wheeled another autoclave up to Mangla and began the
operation.  A half-hour later, Paul's crotch was covered with gauze
bandages where his penis and testicles used to be.  Guy had inserted a
catheter into Paul's urethra so that the patient could urinate while he
healed.

   Guy then paused in thought and considered what to feed his slaves today.

   Although Guy sometimes fed his waste to Kathy, Mangla, Aaron, or even
Anne or Angela, he had to remember to use the toilets often enough so that
Mindy wouldn't die of malnutrition.  So today, he walked over to the stove
in the alcove and boiled a large quantity of soup.

   When the soup was ready, he added some salt and pepper for flavor (Guy
wasn't totally without compassion for his slaves) and poured some into
several IV looking devices with tubes hanging from underneath them.

   He took one and hung it from a hook in the ceiling above Kathy, and then
inserted the tube into her mouth.  She began sucking the soup as if
drinking from a straw.

   He did the same for Mangla, still lying on the operating table.

   Then he did the same for Aaron and Mohammed, sliding the tubes into each
man's mouth along with the other man's penis.

   Then he stopped the pivot from spinning and forcing Anne to walk in her
endless circles.  He attached her soup IP bag to a hook against the outer
wall of her walkway.

   He simply slid a bowl of soup through the door to Angela's cell.

   With the slaves fed, he tapped the combination on the door exiting the
dungeon into that black foyer room, then passed back through the storage
rooms, back into the basement hallway.

   He returned to the utility room and glanced at Mindy's stats once again:
OXYGEN 98%, PULSE 53.  She must be digesting that toilet flush from this
morning.  He flipped the EXO switch back on, and turned the gas back on,
letting the generators shut off automatically.

   He rode the elevator back up to the third floor and into his master
bedroom suite.  He was feeling horny by then, so he walked up to Fuschia's
cage.  "Feel like coming out to play, Fuschia?"

   "Yes, Master!  I'm so randy right now!"

   Guy laughed.  "You always are, sweet Fuschia!"

   Guy unlocked the cage and brought her into bed.  He tied one of each of
four lengths of rope to each of her wrists and ankles, then tied her
spread-eagle to his brass bed frame, stretching her arms and legs out
tightly.

   "Oh, Master!" she gasped as he mounted her once again with still one
more rope in his hand.  "What will you do with that one?"

   Guy wrapped the rope around her neck and pulled it tightly, cutting off
her air.  He tied it in a neat bow as he met Fuschia's panic-stricken gaze.
With a smile, he crawled down her body between her legs and ever so gently
licked along the seam between her labia without parting it with his tongue.

   Her body quivered slightly to his oral touch, though she remained in
choked silence.  Pressing his tongue against the seam with slightly more
pressure, he parted her labia with his tongue and licked slowly up over the
opening of her vagina to her clitoris and back down again.

   Normally, he would delight in lingering and teasing a woman in this way,
but knowing that he had to bring her off quickly before she suffocated, he
moved straight away to her clit and sucked the little nub into his mouth.

   Holding it deep in his mouth with the suction of his breath, he licked
and flicked the tiny top with his tongue, drinking tiny wisps of her juices
at the same time.

   Then, sucking on it like a lollipop, he drew it in and out, and in and
out, bringing her ever closer to climax.

   It seemed odd to Guy for a woman to be so utterly silent at such a time,
which only reminded him of the need to act quickly.

   He sucked in and out with greater vigor until, at last, she began
bucking with every twitch of his mouth.  What a rush to be in direct
control over a woman's orgasm this way!  To be able to play her clit like a
trumpet!

   Mindful of the time, he stopped and climbed up her body.  Her complexion
had a tinge of blue, and her eyes were glazed over and failed to focus
while she rolled her head from side to side.

   Guy quickly untied the rope.  Fuschia immediately began sputtering and
coughing, struggling to catch her breath.

   The danger over, Guy lay upon her and slid his hungry member into her
where he had just made her conveniently sopping wet for him to do so.

   The combined wetness of his saliva and her own feminine juices made for
an amply slippery entry, and he slid into her easily.  Sucking on her
genitals had already brought him close to his own climax, so he exploded
inside her with little effort.

   At that, the day's exhaustion took over, and he fell to sleep upon her.

   ************** * POSTSCRIPT * **************

   Here's a riddle for you:

   Q.  How do you know when Kathy is lying?

   A.  Her lips are moving.

   Here's another:

   Q.  How do you know when Kathy is cheating on you?

   A.  She's not with you at the moment.

   And here's another:

   Q.  How many boyfriends does Kathy have?

   A.  You can get that number from the US Census Bureau.  It

   increases by a few hundred every minute.
   * END *