She Said, He Said: Part 1

This story is an email exchange between me, Crowley, and a fan by the name of Snuffbaby. It was her idea, and she did the opening post. This is quite an old way to tell the story, and I do not yet know when, or how, it will finish, or even if it will. I will post new instalments when I have enough to post.

The only changes to Snuffbaby’s words are to correct spelling mistakes.

She Said, He Said

SNUFFBABY

I made sure that I was in my sexiest outfit when I went out to the pub that night: my thigh-high leather booties, nice and so shiny I could almost see my face in them; my bright red latex micromini; my push-up leather bustier which gives my big tits (44DD see them and lust) a cleavage to die for; and my studded leather jacket, one which only comes down to the small of my back. I wear my really tight black latex panties, the ones which are so tight that they always give me a camel toe. They are uncomfortable to walk in – but I don’t intend to do any walking, not in the six inch heels of my leather boots.

Just getting dressed makes me horny. I reach down under the tight panties and feel my sopping pussy. It is already soaked, at the thought of teasing some big, stupid stud. My fingers are wet. I transfer some of this natural musk to behind my ears. There is no greater perfume than eau de horny pussy. The pheromones can turn on any male.

I use my sluttiest, reddest lipstick. I call it Inflamed Labia, although it has some other name. And then I am ready to go out and tease cocks. That is what I like to do: to go out to a pub and tease cocks with my super-sexy body, making them erect, trying to hide the bulge in their trousers. But none of them are ever going to get me. I am not going to have sex with any of them. The only thing they will get from me are blue balls. When I know I’ve turned on some studly I will leave him hanging, desperate for pussy he will never get. Then I will go home and give myself a wonderful orgasm, while I think of him being high and dry.

I call my favourite taxi firm – the one which has a female driver – and am taken to the pub. I go inside, knowing that all eyes are on me. The men all want to have sex with me. The girlfriends all want to kill me. I wiggle my ass as I go up to the bar.

CROWLEY

I am sitting in my favourite pub, enjoying a pint of lager, when I see the prettiest slut I’ve seen in a long time walk through the door. She totters over to the bar in her six inch-heeled thigh high leather boots. Her arse is barely contained by a red latex micromini, which perfectly holds her arse cheeks. Her large breasts are threatening to tumble out of a leather bustier. She exudes sexuality, and I know that I have to have her, come what may. I am going to plunge my ten inch cock between her cuntlips. I am going to ravage her tight arsehole. I am going to have her suck me. Then I am going to cum all over her whore face. And, finally, I will piss down her whore throat, before sending her on her way. She will really know that she has been fucked.

I watch her as she buys some cocktail. Then she comes and sits in a seat facing me – I am in a section of the pub where I can observe people, without having to interact with them unless I want to. Where she is sitting she has her back to the pub. She is facing me, and me only. I wonder how to introduce myself. Then she gets out her phone and pretends to phone somebody. But I can see the screen, and I can see that she isn’t actually talking to anybody. She is only pretending to, perhaps so that she doesn’t have to talk to me.

As she pretends to have a phone conversation, she raises one heel to place it on the seat next to her. It would be innocent enough, if not for the fact that she is in a red latex micromini. Her skirt is pulled up, revealing the tightest pair of black latex knickers I have ever seen. They are so tight that, in the position she is in, they cut between her cuntlips, giving her a camel toe. They are almost gynaecological in their detail. Her cuntlips bulge around the edge of the black latex. It looks like she is fully shaven. My cock gets harder.

SNUFFBABY

I get a strawberry daiquiri. I look around the pub, but most of the guys are no hopers, old guys with tiny cocks and smaller libidos. I don’t want to tease them. Then I spot one guy in a corner of the pub. I can’t tell how old he is, but he is not bad, in a kind of Gothic way. He is dressed all in black, and has dark hair and a goatee. Also, where he is sitting, I will be able to flash just him and nobody else. I am going to give him the sort of hard-on which will keep studly seated until closing time.

I sit opposite him. But I have no desire to be chatted up by Mr Goatee. So I get out my smartphone and pretend to ring my best friend, hoping that he is polite enough not to interrupt my “conversation.” Of course, like most men, he is stupid, and doesn’t realise that I am not really having a conversation.

Now it is time to tease him. I pull one foot up onto the seat. Of course that shows off my black latex panties, incredibly tight on my perfect pussy. With my peripheral vision I notice him looking at my pussy. I have him hooked. I see his cock begin to harden. I’m gushing, thinking of him with a hard-on all evening, and never going to have sex. But I am going to tease him even more. Just flashing my knickers is not enough. I want to leave him desperate. Oh, I am such a bad girl.

I shift on the seat a little, so that the latex pulls even more into my slit, if that is possible. My hard clit is stroked by the soft latex. My clit is large, and I reckon that it is so hard that a bump must be visible through the panties.

Through the next couple of hours I stay on the phone. But I shift around, thrusting my tits at him, absentmindedly scratching my crotch (which almost makes me cum), and doing everything I can to turn him on. It’s lucky that the panties aren’t cloth, otherwise the seat would be completely soaked by now.

Now and then I glance at the front of Goth studly’s black jeans. His cock is fully erect, and it is a big one. The perv is also making no attempt to hide the fact that he has got an erection. He is just sitting there, as though I will take sympathy on him, just because he has a big cock which he can’t control. I almost expect the pervert to cum in his jeans. But he doesn’t. Eventually I have had enough. Time to go.

I leave the pub, then realise that with pretending to be on the phone I haven’t been able to ring Janice the taxi driver to pick me up. I try the number, but there is no signal. I decide to walk a bit, until I can get a signal. I don’t hear him come up behind me. The next thing I know is some cloth over my mouth and nose – then oblivion.

CROWLEY

The bitch is a cock tease. She teases me all evening, doing everything but a strip act, not once deigning to talk to me. It is clear to me that she is a cock-teasing bitch – and she needs to pay for that. Nobody does that to me.

So, when she leaves the pub, I pull my big leather coat around me and follow her. I turn on my signal blocker – just in time, as I see the bitch try to make a genuine phone call. I reach into my pocket, and pull out a cloth laced a chemical not dissimilar to chloroform, but which does not have any side effects. Within a few seconds she is unconscious in my arms.

I drag the unconscious bitch to my black van, and throw her in the back. I take her phone and drop it down a sewer. I have her. Nobody saw me. It is as easy as that.

I take her home. I have a high hedge all around my house. I drag her out of my van, and into the house. I dump her on the floor of my hall, net to a large, wide, grandfather clock. I press the side of my grandfather clock, and it opens out, revealing a hidden staircase behind it. I have the CIA to thank for this. My house was modified as thanks for my former career, being an interrogator for them in black sites which exist on no official map. It was a job which was very good at. The house’s modifications are not all that they have done for me. I have all manner of little toys and medical equipment, some of which is not supposed to exist.

I drag her down into my dungeon. It is sealed by a steel door at the bottom of the long flight of stairs. My dungeon is deep enough that nobody will ever hear her screams. I can keep her down there for the rest of her life, however long that might be.

I drag her into the stone-floored dungeon. She is going to be out for hours, with what I have given her. So I will have a good night’s rest and play with her in the morning.

I strip the cock-teasing whore of her clothing. She will never need it again. I sniff her latex knickers. As I guessed they stink of cunt juice. I will destroy her clothing. It will go in the furnace, next time I stoke it up.

I leave on the lights in the dungeon so that, when she wakes up, she will be able to see my dungeon equipment. I chain her stretched out on my wooden rack. Then I leave her for the night.

SNUFFBABY

I wake up, to find that I am naked, and stretched out, lying on some slanting wooden table. It takes me a few seconds to realize that it is not some slanting table, but that I am on some sort of rack, and that I am in a dungeon. Bright lights illuminate the place, although I almost wish that I didn’t. I can see some sort of guillotine, although with two holes. Is it for executing two people at the same time? I shudder.

There is a wooden stocks. I think that is what it is called. I can see something which looks like a vaulting horse from a gym, except that it has been shaped to a sharp ridge. There is a standing wooden X. There is a brazier with coals in it. Thankfully they have not been lit. There are more pieces of equipment, but I don’t recognize them, or know what they are called. I do recognize the whips hanging from the walls.

I’m alone in the place. There is no sign of who abducted me. I have to get out of here before the maniac returns. I try pulling at my hands and feet. But the leather cuffs around them are too tight. I can’t pull free.

“Help! Help! Call the police!” I scream. But nothing happens. I realise that the maniac, whoever he is, would not have left my mouth uncovered if I could summon help by screaming. I decide not to waste my breath.

I can do nothing but wait, and see what happens. I resolve not to give in, no matter what happens. I am going to get out of this.

It is hours before the door to the dungeon opens, and my captor enters the dungeon. He is wearing leather boots and leather chaps. He is otherwise naked. His ten inch long cock is rock hard.

I recognise him at once. He is the creep from the pub, the one I teased.

CROWLEY

When I wake up the next morning I remember that I have a cock-tease in the dungeon, to which I intend to teach some manners. But I don’t go straight in there. I have a black coffee and fried breakfast first, letting the bitch stew. Let her fear what I am going to do with her. Maybe it will make her more malleable.

Eventually I can wait no more. My cock is rock hard, thinking of what I am going to do to her. I get changed into black biker boots and a pair of leather chaps. They show off my hard cock, so that she will be able to see what she was teasing last night.

I open the dungeon and go in. She is awake, still strapped to the rack where I left her. No getting away for her, not until I decide to let her go. But that won’t happen until I have broken her. That won’t happen until she is a willing slave.

I see utter hatred in her eyes, as she gazes at me and my hard cock. Good, I like the hatred, it will make it that much more satisfying when she finally breaks.

“You are nothing but a cock-teasing bitch.” I tell her (nothing she doesn’t already know). “You are going to be punished by me until that is out of your system, and you are a willing submissive, happy to offer your body up to any man, your natural master. You will beg for me to fuck you. And you will. I will torture you until you beg me to fuck you. And I must believe that you are sincere. Otherwise I will keep torturing you. But you will break. Everybody does.”

SNUFFBABY

The perv tells me that I am nothing but a cock-teasing bitch. He tells me that I going to be punished until it is out of my system, and until I beg him to fuck me. But I am NEVER going to do that. I would rather die than give him that pleasure.

“Go fuck yourself!” I shout at him. “You are nothing but a pervert. I will never, I repeat never, going to beg you to fuck me. I don’t care what you do to me, I am not going to break. And when I get free I am going to go to the police and you will go to prison for the rest of your life.”

He seems to be laughing at me. I hate him.

I watch him as he goes over to one of the walls. He selects a nasty looking whip, with lots of leather strands. He walks back to stand before me. There is an evil grin on his face. I steel myself for the pain to come.

CROWLEY

I walk over to where my whips and canes hang on a wall. I select one of my least damaging implements, a cat o’ nine tails with little leather knots at the end. It will sting without doing any permanent damage.

I walk back holding the cat. I give her a grim smile. She doesn’t say anything. I swish the whip through the air.

“Last chance to beg me to fuck you.” I tell her. She still doesn’t say anything. “You will break. It is just a matter of time. Why not save yourself some pain?”

I am glad that she hasn’t given in. I hope that she doesn’t give in too quickly. She has a very nice body, and I am looking forward to causing her a lot of pain. And, believe me, I know how to inflict pain on a defenceless female form. All women scream and beg when they fall into my hands. Safe words are uttered. But she has no safe word, other than to beg. That is the only thing which will stop the torture.

I swish the cat at her big breasts. I bet that she has never had anybody whip them before. So my first strokes are quite light, introducing her to pain. But she does not do anything, other than stare at me with undisguised hatred. So I slash down a bit harder. Yes, I see that I have got her attention, as the little leather knots sting the pale expanses of her flesh. They leave little red marks where they hit. I do not count the strokes. I have all the time in the world. She moves as much as she can in her position on the rack, causing her massive tits to wobble from side to side. They are magnificent – and they look even better, now that I have reddened them with the whip. I love to see a slave girl with well-whipped tits, with tears in her eyes, begging me to stop.

I pause, after her tits are red all over.

“Are you ready to beg?” I ask her.

SNUFFBABY

The bastard whips my tender breasts with the cruel whip. It stings my beautiful breasts. It feels like little bee stings when the knots on the whip hit my breasts. But I don’t scream. I won’t give him that pleasure.

The whipping goes on an on. He whips me all over my soft breasts. The little leather knots sting my aureola and my nipples. He whips the top of my breasts. He whips their sides. He even whips the undersides of my breasts. Where I am, lying on the rack, my arms stretched above my head, he can reach every square inch of flesh with his whip. How can he be so cruel as to whip a woman’s breasts? What is wrong with him? He must be sick in the head. Eventually the torture comes to an end. My poor breasts are now a shade of maroon. I am surprised to see that they are not bleeding.

“Are you ready to beg?” he asks. But I will never beg. I refuse to break.

“Go fuck yourself, you pervert!” I shout at him. Maybe it is not wise to say such words. But I cannot help myself.

He doesn’t speak. Instead he puts the whip back. Then he walks to the head of the rack, where the chains attached to my wrists are around some sort of wooden roller. I twist my head to watch him.

The bastard pulls on a lever. There is a click and the chains tighten even more. My body is painfully stretched out. Then he does what I cannot belie – he tightens the rack another two clicks. I have to bite my lip so that I don’t scream. I am not going to scream. He will not have that satisfaction. But another click or two and I know that my arms will come out of their sockets.

CROWLEY

“Go fuck yourself, you pervert.” the slut shouts at me. At least she has spirit. I like that in a slave – and a slave is what she is going to be. I am going to break her so much that she will beg to remain as my painslut for the rest of my life. But first I have to break her.

She has to realise that she can’t get free, and that if she does not give in that pain will be her only reward. Her only choice, other than to be tortured, is to beg.

I put the whip back. I consider my other implements of pain – the skewers, the pliers, the blowtorch – but I decide to save those for later. She is already on the rack. I understand, from other sluts I’ve stretched, that it is truly torturous. I have had one slut beg to have a red hot needle in her clit, rather than go back on the rack. Besides, there is shopping I need to do this Saturday.

I go over to the rack and slowly turn the roller, one, two, three clicks. Now her body is really stretched taut. I know that it will not take long to make her scream.

I leave it at the three clicks for now. I don’t want to pull her arms out of her sockets just yet. Instead I leave her to her agonies. I leave the dungeon.

I go shopping, taking my time, knowing that every minute that I am away that she is so much closer to breaking. I buy a few things which I think might be of use: more fuel for the blowtorch, some metal pincers with which I might threaten her nipples, sandpaper, stuff like that.

Two hours pass before I enter the dungeon again.

SNUFFBABY

The pervert leaves me stretched out on the rack! I want to kill him. If our positions were reversed I would keep turning the rack until his arms and legs are ripped from his body. I wait for the pain to lessen. But it doesn’t. If anything it gets worse.

It is hours before he returns. But I don’t break. I refuse to beg.

“Your breasts are very vulnerable.” he tells me. “I can do anything I want to them.”

“Fuck off!” I swear at him. Maybe it is not a good idea to make him angry. But I hate him. I’m not going to break, not even if he kills me.

I watch as he turns on a blowtorch. My eyes widen as I think that he is going to apply the flame to my large, beautiful breasts. That would ruin me for life. I almost break, just then. But I bite my tongue. I will not give in!

Instead of applying the flame directly to my flesh he heats up a long needle instead. It has to be at least four inches long, no counting the head by which he’s holding it. I think, at first, that he is only using the fire to burn off any germs on the metal. But he keeps holding the needle until the metal is glowing red. He is going to pierce my nipples with red hot needles! Yet, again, I am wrong.

He grasps my right breast. My nipple puckers up of its own accord. He puts the glowing point of the needle close to the centre of my nipple, but not pointing across, but down, towards the very centre of my breast.

“If you don’t beg me to fuck you then this is going down through your nipple into your milk ducts.” he says. “It will ruin them, cooking the inside of your tits. Beg!”

“Fuck you.” I scream. And I scream a lot more as he makes good on his threat, slowly forcing the glowing needle down into my breast. I scream my head off as I am pierced by agony. He keeps pressing down with the needle until the plastic head is touching my nipple. It is burning a line of torture through the heart of my breast. Then the bastard does the same to my other breast.

I scream my head off. But I don’t beg.

CROWLEY

I really thought that she would break when I thrust the red hot needles down through her nipples into her tits. But the silly cunt holds out. Doesn’t she understand that everybody breaks? Things will just keep on getting worse for her until she begs.

Anyway, I have ideas of using other pieces of equipment. But I will need to take her off the rack – and there is still far too much fight in her at the moment. I have to make it so that she can’t fight back.

I leave the needles in her breasts. I like how they look. I go to the rack again, and I carry on turning the lever. She screams in agony, but I know no mercy. I carry on turning until I pop her arms out of her sockets. She faints.

I release the unconscious slut from the rack, and drag her onto the floor. I fasten a large metal collar around her neck. The collar has several D rings on it. It does not have a lock. Once snapped shut around a slut’s neck it is almost impossible to get one without power tools. There is a tiny little hole at the base, one which can’t be seen by anybody wearing the collar. Insert a long needle in the hole and the collar will spring open. But this stupid slut will never find the hole.

I force her dislocated arms into a reverse prayer behind her back, binding her elbows and wrists together. She wakes up in agony as I bind her wrists to a D ring at the back of the collar. Her arms must be in agony. I’m not sure whether they will recover. But I don’t care. She doesn’t need arms to beg.

SNUFFBABY

I recover from fainting to find that this sadist has taken away the use of my dislocated arms. He has somehow bound them behind my back, in an unnatural position, my arms touching each other, my wrists forced up to be tied to some sort of metal collar around my neck.

But I am free from the rack. Despite being in agony, I somehow manage to get to my feet. I try to kick him in the balls. But the torturer grabs my ankle, defeating my pathetic attempt at escape.

“I’ll have to deal with your legs.” he says, at he tips me over. I land hard on my bound arms, bringing further agony to them and my shoulders. I scream, writhing on the floor.

The next thing that I know is that there are metal cuffs on my ankles, and chains are slowly dragging my legs apart. I look down to see that the chains go to metal rings set in the stone floor of this torture chamber. One of them has some sort of pulley arrangement attached to the chains. He keeps pulling my legs apart until I am doing the splits. My thighs ache with the strain. I am very much aware that my beautiful pussy is utterly defenceless. My legs are so wide apart that the pink petals of my sweet pussy have spread of their own accord. I wonder whether he has given up trying to get me to beg and he has decided to rape me with his big, hard cock. But that is not the case.

Instead he gets the nasty whip he used on my breasts. He uses it on my poor pussy, over and over, stinging my labia with the leather knots. He even manages to get a few of the knots to hit between my labia, right on the walls of my pussy. The pain is terrible, but I try to concentrate not on the brutalisation of my pussy, but on my tortured arms instead.

“You won’t kick me again.” he says, throwing the whip away. He returns to the pulley, and operates it, as my legs are stretched out further. I feel a pop as my legs are pulled out of their sockets, and I faint again.

CROWLEY

I hope that the bitch will soon give up, now that both her arms and legs have been pulled out of their sockets. I have never known any painslut able to put up with such agony. But she has to learn.

I unchain her ankles. I put hanging chains on the metal collar. I lift her up by the collar, suspending her from her neck. It must feel like she is being strangled. But with the collar being solid metal I know that she won’t be killed. It is just very uncomfortable.

She comes to as I swing her over a sharp-edged Spanish horse. The seat is some five feet above the floor of my dungeon. Seat? It is a sharp edge, which will burrow into her pussy. None of my willing painsluts have ever managed more than half an hour on this item before begging to be taken down.

She comes to sitting on the horse, a dislocated leg hanging either side. I have spread her cuntlips out so that the wooden edge is right between them. I make sure that she can’t get off by hanging heavy iron balls on each big toe. I can see that she is already in agony. But it is not enough for me. I put a plastic bag over her head. Then I wait, watching her, waiting for her to beg.

Waiting for reply.