Twelve months later, in the darkest depths of Eagleview Castle’s newly renovated dungeons.
Another high-pitched scream of agony escapes my lips as the Executioner tightens the rack, another unbelievably painful notch tighter. Since early Friday evening, I’ve been stretched taut on this rack, my tormentors using my body to satisfy all their perverted sexual desires. All the while, the rack’s unrelenting and steadily increasing pain is only heightening the masochistic pleasure of my multiple orgasms.
Picking up a painful-looking riding crop, Mark, one of Lady Christine’s tormentors, dressed as a medieval Lord, paused to admire her considerable beauty. A fresh high-pitched scream escaping her full luscious lips as his friend Steve, dressed as a medieval Executioner, tighten the rack another notch.
Waiting until Lady Christine’s screams trailed off to steady faint cries, his Lordship commented, “Executioner, if you tighten that rack any further, you’re going to cause her Ladyship some rather serious injury.”
Smiling beneath his black face-concealing hood, the Executioner paused for a moment, then smiling, “Perhaps you are correct, my Lord.” Then, he tightened the rack another notch to the delightful sounds of Lady Cristine’s renewed screams.
Over the past six months, Christine’s invited these two, both among London’s most sadistic professional masters, to stay at her castle almost every weekend, there to sate her darkest masochistic desires. They’ve enjoyed playing the role of the Lord and his faithful Executioner. However, this weekend was turning out to be significantly different. Usually, there are limits on what they could do to her and agreed upon safe words. This weekend, there were, at her request, neither.
In fact, just before they started down the steps to the dungeon, dressed in their costumes with Christine naked in chains, she’d turned to them, a faint smile on her face, “This weekend, I want to be yours to use in any way you desire, no safe words, no limits, and no expectations of mercy.”
Pausing, as he waited for Lady Christine’s desperate screaming to abate, his Lordship reflected on the implications of Christine’s final statement before they started down the stairs toward the dungeon. Suddenly smiling, “Executioner, since Lady Christine neglected to set any limits, perhaps it’s time for something a bit more extreme.”
Smiling at the look of eager anticipation visible in the Executioner’s eyes, he continued, “Now that I’ve had time to reflect upon what she said last evening, at the top of the steps. I believe Lady Christine is secretly harboring a darkly amusing masochistic death wish, one that, we as proper English gentlemen, have a sacred duty to honor.”
His voice hardened as he continued, “Executioner, release her Ladyship from the rack, then secure her wrists tightly behind her back. We’ll anally impale Lady Christine upon the dungeon’s wooden impalement post. By now, she should have more than enough semen inside her rectum to act as a lubricant.”
Laughing at the sudden look of terror on Lady Christine’s lovely face, the Executioner added, “I’m looking forward to watching your Ladyship struggling against the inevitable.”
“Yes Executioner, her impalement should provide considerable amusing entertainment. Her struggles, growing steadily more desperate with every inch of that impalement post, she feels slipping past the straining muscles of her anus. I suspect any masochistic pleasure she’s deriving from her torment will quickly be overwhelmed by the unbearable agony that she’s going to be enduring.”
No longer able to hide the sadistic excitement in his voice, the Executioner asked, “My Lord, how long will it take for her Ladyship’s impalement to be complete, and will she survive it?”
“I admit, this is the first time I’ve impaled a woman, but from what I’ve read, regardless of how much she struggles, Lady Christine should be fully impaled within thirty minutes and hopefully still be very much alive.”
With that, they lifted me over the impalement post, aligning my anus with its sharply pointed tip, and lowered me, screaming in terror, onto that intimidating wooden shaft.
The sickeningly painful sensation of that rough wooden shaft slipping, inch by inch, upward through my anus as it moved steadily deeper into my body was as delightfully horrifying as I’d often imagined it would be. Desperately I struggled, trying to halt my descent, but all my efforts turned out to be utterly futile. In less than thirty minutes, my impalement was complete, that post’s horrifying wooden tip protruding obscenely upward from my mouth.
Hours later, the Executioner, having just climaxed once again, deep inside Lady Christine’s vagina, paused to check her pulse as his now flaccid cock slipped from the tightness of her sex, “My Lord, her Ladyship’s pulse is still strong, perhaps another round of Viagra so that we may continue this evening’s festivities?”
Sadly, shaking his head, his Lordship replied, “Any more, and we’ll undoubtedly die before Lady Christine expires. Instead, let us retire to our bedchambers in the castle above, returning in the morning after a hearty breakfast to see if her Ladyship is still alive.”
Walking over, his Lordship pressed the palm of his hand firmly against Lady Christine’s abdomen, marveling at the ease with which his palm felt the obscene presence of the impalement post’s wooden shaft deep inside her. The pressure of his hand causing her body to convulse in fresh agony. Turning to the Executioner, he smiled, “In the morning, after a good night’s rest, we’ll continue her Ladyship’s sexual abuse, after all, she did say, ‘yours to use in any way you desire.’”
Confused, the Executioner asked, “But what if she’s already dead?”
Smiling darkly, his Lordship replied, “Does it really matter? We’ll use her for our pleasure regardless, then place her remains in that cryogenic container we’ve been keeping in the catacombs below. I understand that our reward for her corpse will be a handsome one and, at the same time, remove all worries about disposing of her Ladyship’s remains.”
Standing there, helplessly impaled, listening to their horrific plans, I felt consumed with masochistic lust.
To helplessly be stretched to within, literally an inch of my life, on that rack for long torturous hours. Simultaneously, suffering hours of brutal, agonizing, multi-orgasmic sex with every orifice of my body ravaged repeatably for their pleasure. Then, enduring an unspeakably slow and torturous death by impalement while again being used repeatably for their sexual enjoyment. All that followed in the morning, by the delightfully real possibility of necrophilia. And finally, not knowing what the people buying my corpse intended to do with it, although I can easily imagine some rather kinky cannibalistic possibilities.
Seriously, all this is a masochistic pain slut’s ultimate darkly amusing fantasy...