Here at the Resort we work diligently to preserve the legacy of torment and suffering once imagined by those who still inspire us. One
of the most diabolically imaginative of those who have over the years so profoundly inspired us all was Robert Bishop. Here at the Resort
we’ve faithfully recreated many of Bishop’s most diabolical creations, with one of the most popular with our guests being Bishop’s infamous
Spiked Impaler. Featured in Bishop’s Fanni Hall series of damsel in distress bondage comics the Spiked Impaler forces its victim to
stand spread eagle deeply impaled upon its massive phallic shaped tip, the ring of sharp spikes preventing her from bringing her legs close
enough together to escape its belly straining girth.
This lovely lady is Sandy. This evening Sandy, one of our Resort’s exclusive Vacation Club members, has eagerly accepted the opportunity to experience the torturous delights of Bishop’s diabolical Spiked Impaler first hand. One can clearly see the delightful mix of emotions is Sandy’s eyes, and while never having experienced Bishop’s Spiked Impaler she’s no stranger too many of the Bishop inspired instruments of torturous pleasure available to our exclusive Vacation Club members.
Staring in masochistic awe at the massive steel phallus that topped Bishop’s ominous Spiked Impaler Sandy tried to imagine what was going to feel like to ride that obscenely oversized steel cock, her arousal growing almost uncontrollably at the thought of her sex straining to accommodate that thick steel shaft’s impossible girth. She can feel her heartbeat quicken at the thought of the torturously painful sensation of its massive phallic shaped tip pressing brutally upward against her cervix forcing the tall six inch heels of her shoes to lift from the floor in an ultimately futile attempt to escape the cruel Impaler’s painful unrelenting torment.
Sandy could feel herself growing wet at the thought of being helplessly forced to stand impaled upon one of Bishop’s most diabolical creations, her arms bound behind her back, laced within an impossibly tight leather single glove, her desperate screams stifled by an oversized, jaw straining, ball gag strapped deep within her mouth. Her legs stretched obscenely wide, wantonly displaying all the intimate charms of her voluptuously sexy body before the cold eyes of that cruelly sadistic man watching her struggles from the chamber’s incredibly comfortable looking leather chair, casually holding a glass of wine in one hand and an ominously familiar whip in the other, her husband.
Pressing her hand firmly against her belly as she thought about the long torturous hours ahead, a faint smile of pure masochistic lust slowly appeared on Sandy’s face. She’d heard that the few Resort companions who’d experienced the Spiked Impaler, one of the latest additions to the Resort’s growing collection of Bishop inspired torments, as a moment of masochistic nirvana. It seems the massive phallic shaped shaft forces the victim’s pelvis to angle forward to align her vagina with its oversized shaft and in doing so forces her clitoris into firm contact with the front of the shaft. Each time the victim pushes up onto her toes to escape the painful pressure against her cervix and again when her burning calf muscles finally force her to relax her legs and slide back down onto her heels, the inescapable pressure brutally grinds her clitoris against the thick steel shaft. Most women quickly discover they can easily give themselves the best of both worlds, the exact mix of orgasms and agony, of pleasure and pain that they so masochistically crave. And, in Sandy’s case, add a coldly sadistic husband who knows just how much she loves to be whipped and this night has all the makings of her ultimate masochistic fantasy.
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