Leanne Gives Up Her Safe Word

This is a story featuring my slave Leanne. The stories can be read and enjoyed separately, so I have not included them in part of a large novel. But if you want to read them in the order in which they occurred it is this order (when I have completed writing the stories):

Playing with Leanne I

Playing with Leanne II: Tweezers

Playing with Leanne III: Red Hot Needles

Leanne Gives Up Her Safe Word

The Crucifixion of Leanne

Leanne Sacrifices Her Clit

Leanne Moves In

Leanne Gives Up Her Safeword

Leanne had been coming to see me for some time when she said that she didn’t want a safe word any more. It was some time after our most intense session, the one which had involved red hot needles.

“I’m scared that, when it gets really intense, that I will say it accidentally.” she said.

“You have a safe word for a reason.” I reminded her. “If the pain gets to a state you cannot handle then you have an out.”

“Yes, but if I say Quitter then I stop being your slave.” she said. “I couldn’t bear that. I need the pain.”

Yes, I had said that if she ever said the word quitter that she would permanently cease to be my slave. I was almost beginning to regret that, as it was obvious that Leanne could take a great deal of pain, probably more than any submissive that I had played with before. But a master must be a man of his word. If he sets down a law it must be obeyed, even if it applies to himself. Having Leanne give up her safe word could be an out.

I had recently obtained a special TENS unit, and various attachments for it. I hadn’t yet used it with Leanne. But I had been looking forward to using it. I have always felt that there was something pure about the pain from electricity. It just goes on and on, without, if used properly, causing any permanent damage to the slave. And this one was not the sort you got in the shops. It was nothing like a violet wand, which I had used before. According to the guy I had got it from it was the most intense one which was safe to use, of a sort only slightly less powerful than ones used in places like Iran and China. It was a proper electrical torture device.

“Very well.” I said. “What we will do is this. We will have an endurance session the next time that you come to see me. I will torture you with electricity for up to twelve hours, so we will need a whole day for this. I will do all that I can to make you say your safe word. If you can get through twelve hours of torture without saying quitter then you can give up your safe word. Do you agree?”

I knew that the idea of electricity turned Leanne on. She had told me all about her fantasies of South American torture in the 1970s. By then I had already written the first Joanne story for her, and I had been planning the other two.

“Yes, Master. I will not fail you.”

I hoped not. I really hoped that she would not. But I intended to use the endurance session to take Leanne way beyond what she had suffered before, just in case it should prove to be the last time that I got to torture her.

The day came of her torture. It had to be a Saturday. We would have all day. I had purchased a new item of equipment for this session: an adjustable gynaecological chair, one which had cost me a hell of a lot of money. I hoped that I would get to use it more than once. The chair was all black leather and shiny metal.

Leanne looked nervous as she divested herself of her clothing. But she did not try to wriggle out of what I hoped would be a marathon torture session. She went and sat in the chair without me needing to tell her.

I buckled her in place, with padded buckled around her ankles, knees, thighs, stomach, and her chest (above her breasts). Further straps went around her wrists and elbows. I tightened the buckles as much as I could, knowing the fact that they were padded meant that I would not cut off her circulation and cause any necrosis.

“Try to escape.” I said. She could hardly move. That was good.

“No backing out now.” I said. I had a clock in there, where I could see it, the alarm set for a full twelve hours from now. “There are only two ways in which this can end: one, you say the word quitter, and you cease to be my slave; or two, the alarm goes off on the clock after a full twelve hours of torture, and you never get to have a safeword again.”

Leanne did not say anything. But she did look frightened. She was breathing rapidly. Her fear was a turn on for me.

I got out this conductive jelly, which would make sure that Leanne would really feel the electricity without me turning up the electricity to a point which might be dangerous for her. I had no desire to kill off the most extreme masochist I had yet encountered.

I put the jelly on my fingers, and forced my fingers up her arsehole, making sure that plenty of the jelly went up there. I did the same to her cunt, which was already wet. Yes, the idea of this endurance session was obviously a massive turn on for my little painslut. Then I got a cotton bud, soaked it in the conductive gel, and pushed it up her urethra. More conductive gel went around Leanne’s clit, and on her areolae.

Then I began to get Leanne hooked up. I had a long, thin metal dildo, which I introduced to her arsehole. With a little difficulty it went all the way up, to where the dildo thinned, just before the flange at the end, which would prevent it disappearing up inside Leanne. Her arsehole closed over the thin part of the intruder.

I didn’t put a metal dildo up her cunt, but a metal speculum. I opened it up, far enough so that it would be painful, and I could see deep inside Leanne’s cunt, to the pinkness within. I could see her cervix, for the first time.

I eased a small, pencil-like probe up Leanne’s urethra. I taped it into place so that it wouldn’t slide out.

I taped a pair of wires on Leanne’s left areola, either side of her nipple. Then I taped two more wires on her right areola, either side of her right nipple. In a story, of course, I might have written that I crushed her nipples in cruel alligator clamps. But this was real life, and you couldn’t wear alligator clamps for twelve hours, not unless you wished to risk necrosis (and I didn’t want Leanne’s nipples falling off, they were too much fun to play with). And I had to have the contacts either side of the nipple so that the electricity would run through the area between the wires, and not through Leanne’s chest. It avoided the electricity going anywhere near her heart.

Finally, there was her clit to be dealt with. I used more tape to hold her clitoral hood out of the way, as much as I could. Then I taped two bare wires in place, with the end of the wires touching her clit, one on the left, and one on the right. The electricity from those would go right through her big clit. I was glad that her clit was so big. It was something to play with, so big and so sensitive.

“We’re ready.” I said. All of the wires and devices were attached to a big metal box with dials.

I started slowly, on level one, asking Leanne how it felt. I ran the electricity just through her left nipple, to begin with.

“It’s a bit like the violet wand. But with a bit more bite.” Leanne said. I didn’t tell her that we were only on 1, and that the machine could go up to a hundred. And I was thinking about taking Leanne through the numbers, bit by torturous bit.

I played around with the settings for an hour and a half, taking the setting up to ten, then lowering it, so that Leanne never knew what was coming next. I’d send the volts to her arsehole and pussy, then to her nipples, then her clit and her urethra. I loved the sounds of pain she made, sometimes screaming, sometimes going yip, but never saying quitter. It was clear that she was in a lot of pain. But I couldn’t resist. I liked to see her body turn into a sold muscle, moving the little which she was allowed, when the electricity went through her.

After an hour and a half or so I got out a speculum, and replaced the metal dildo with it. I opened up Leanne as much as I could, so that I could see deep inside her. Leanne gasped, but did not say anything.

I got a little pencil torch and shone it inside her. I could see her cervix. It was time for an attachment I had never used before, on anybody, and might never get to use again. It was this flexible black tube like thing, but with electrodes on its head and along its sides. I greased up the end of the tubes, using electrical gel (of course). It was time to torture Leanne where she had never been tortured before.

I fed the tube into Leanne’s cunt, until the end of the tube touched Leanne’s closed cervix. I didn’t stop there, though. I pushed, gently, until it began to slither into her cervix, where nothing had ever been before.

“What are you doing?” Leanne asked.

“I am going to shock you deep inside.” I said. “There is only one way to stop it, and that is to say quitter. Otherwise, I will shock not only your cervix, but inside your uterus. I will only do this torture this once. If you can handle this then I suspect that you will be able to handle any torture, Leanne. Or you can break, say quitter and leave.”

I kept feeding the tube into Leanne. She was now saying prayers to herself. I could see her lips moving. And she was sweating like a stuck pig. Eventually the tube met resistance, and I knew that it had hit the back wall of her uterus. The uterus is only around three inches long, the cervix less than that.

I turned the setting down to one. Any electric shock inside Leanne’s uterus and cervix would be bad enough, and I didn’t want to do any real damage. But psychological damage was a different thing. Leanne would think that it was a lot more powerful than it was.

“I’m turning it up to ten.” I lied, as I turned it down to one. I set the machine up to give Leanne a one second burst, once a minute. Then I sat down and watched Leanne be shocked in her most secret place.

Just a second, but Leanne screamed and gave out imprecations to God. She begged and swore, but didn’t say quitter. So the torture continued, Leanne’s cervix convulsing tight around the tube with every shock.

I let it go on for an hour.

Finally, after a total of two and a half hours, I got bored, and wanted to torture other bits, at a higher setting. Being as gentle as I could, I pulled the tube out of Leanne. There was palpable relief from her.

I didn’t remove the speculum yet. No, why bother, as it was hooked up to the machine? I knew that if I sent out shocks through it her vagina would try to convulse around it. But, of course, it would not be allowed to close. For two hours I shocked her urethra and cunt in such a fashion. Leanne screamed the house down, but did not say quitter. After another two hours I got bored of that, and removed the speculum. Four and a half hours had passed, and Leanne already looked exhausted. But she still had seven and a half hours of the endurance session to go if she was to be allowed to give up her safe word.

I replaced the metal dildo. I turned the shock device back down to one. I had it on hand control, pressing a button to shock her not for one second, but several.

Every five minutes I turned up the setting by one. I kept shocking Leanne, making her scream, making her beg God for the strength to carry on. Somehow she did not faint. Nor did she quit. For the next four and a half hours I kept this up, really torturing my slave. This was no play BDSM. Any normal person would have broken hours ago. But Leanne still had a need to be a martyr. On some level she welcomed the pain, however intolerable it might be. But everybody has a breaking point.

I glanced at the readout on the machine. We were still only on level 50, and I could tell that Leanne was near braking point, but she still had another three hours to go. I had three options: wimp out and end the session there; have Leanne say quitter and end our sessions for good; or cheat. I decided to cheat. Of course I did,

“Leanne, I can see that you’re struggling.” I said. “Do you want the gag?”

The only other time we had used the gag had been when I had pierce her body with red hot needles.

“Yes, please, master.” Leanne said, in a faint voice. I buckled it into her mouth before she had an opportunity to change her mind. I made sure that it would not fall out.

Then I took off the wires by her nipples, just in case.

“Leanne, I am going to turn the machine up to 100. Then I am going to leave you until the time is up. There will be no way that you will be able to stop it.”

Her eyes pleaded at me not to go. I ignored their pleas.

I put the machine so that it would give her a one second shock every couple of seconds. But I did not set it to 100, only to 60. Leanne could not see the readout, but would still feel an increase in voltage. Even sadists like me know mercy, of a sort.

I activated it and left the room. I could hear the screams around the gag as I walked away.

I left Leanne for three hours, suffering an incredibly painful shock to her arsehole, cunt, clit and pisshole every two seconds, and there was nothing that anybody could do about it. I went downstairs and got a piece of paper, to work out just how many shocks Leanne would suffer in that three hour period. Thirty times three hours times sixty minutes. Five thousand four hundred shocks. I wondered whether I had overdone it. But I couldn’t change it now, without showing weakness. I waited out the three hours.

I went back into the play room. Leanne looked unconscious. But then a shock came, and her eyes flickered open. At least she wasn’t dead.

I turned off the machine. I undid Leanne from her bondage. She was utterly exhausted. She spent the next day resting in my bed. Her body would, in time, make a full recovery. But, at least to begin with, she claimed to have reached a state of grace, where she was closer to God, and he helped her through the pain. I hoped that I hadn’t broken her mind. But, by the time that she finally went home on the Sunday night, she seemed almost normal whatever that was for Leanne.

“I did it.” Leanne said, as she left. “I beat the torture. No more safe words. No limits. From now on I can be tortured as hard as you like, and I won’t be able to say anything about it.”

There was a strange light in her eyes, and I wondered whether I had done the right thing, as I watched the naked Leanne walk down to her car.