Rochelle Gets Her Wish Pt 03

Warning: This story contains very strong consensual non-consent. There is some mild violence, and scenes that appear very real. Please do not read if this is likely to offend or upset you.

This story was requested by a 19 year old, very pretty blonde. She is a role player, and she has had a lot of input to this story as we role played it. As ever my work is edited by the talented TRCIII

I'm not sure if I have fallen asleep and been woken, or if my mind has been wondering so much that I've lost track of time. It has been a few hours, at least, since you left me tied like this. I hear you coming back down the stairs, but I ache and moving to see hurts. The butt plug is still in place, which I am relieved about, and most of the discomfort has subsided. I lay tied as you move about; I hear a lot of different noises, and there are definitely some metallic objects moving.

"Now Rochelle, this will be unpleasant for you," he says, like everything up until now has been simply lovely. He walks up to where he is looking down on my face, and I can see he is holding a ball gag. "I have been looking forward to this bit; you are going to suffer, and you only mentioned it once in passing as we chatted, but I like the options."

"Please, no. I hurt so much, you can't," I say, tears forming in my eyes at the thought of more pain. The problem with that is, I can feel the butterflies in my pussy; it wants this. I am turned on by the complete lack of control I have. There is part of my brain egging me on, wanting me to ham up the pain and suffering, to help him get off on my helplessness, and want to do more, hurt more, make me suffer more.

He indicates the ball gag, then says, "You will need this. I don't want you biting your tongue or anything." I shake my head as best I can, but there is nowhere near enough movement to stop him from attaching it firmly.

He walks away again, and inside my head I start to go over how I got here. A foolish little kink that I started to talk to strange men about. The times I got off telling this man, Ggrabboy1973, to rape me mercilessly, to hurt me, to make me take it. I shudder as the fear of the previous night floods through me, those moments of being grabbed and abducted, when I was terrified because I had no idea what was happening, was being perpetrated by the man I had asked to do it. He had been so good at hiding it, I had thought that he was not prepared to do it, and even after, it was only this morning that I became convinced it was Grabboy1973 that had me.

"Oh, look. Your little pussy is leaking at the thought of your torture," he says, snapping me back into the here and now. I feel him fiddling with the butt plug; it is less comfortable now, and somehow feels heavier. He stands again, and walks about. Then I see something in his hand, a rod of some sort, with a wire snaking away from the far end. It does not look like a pleasant device.

"Can you guess what is about to happen?" he asks, as he moves closer to me. I shake my head as much as is possible without choking myself, as I genuinely have no clue what he is about to do.

Slowly, almost delicately, he moves the rod towards my left nipple. It feels like he is almost teasing me, making my mind race, trying to think what he was about to do, what this rod is for. Then suddenly I remember what I had said. "Torture me with electricity," I had said, when I was so close to cumming in one of our sessions.

I don't have time to think of more of your description of doing it. The rod touches my nipple, a jolt tears through my tit. I feel my muscles tense as my arse clenches around the plug that's now warming a little from the current flowing through it. I want to scream but I can't make the muscles move. You hold the rod on my nipple for about 2 seconds, then release it. I breathe heavily, my body sweating and shaking a little; it takes about 10 seconds for my arse to unclench from the plug, as my breathing slows.

"Oh, look. That's what I want to see in your eyes," he says. "That was a low setting, but you clearly hated that." The smile says he loved it. He moves around me, and as he does continues. "Tingling a little, are we?" I am, actually. There is an odd feeling, something like pins and needles in my whole left tit, and also in my arse cheeks. Tingling would be a good description, but around the ball gag I shout as best I can, "Fuck you!"

"Now, now, that is not nice," he says as the rod comes down faster this time, to touch my right nipple. This time I do scream into the ball gag, my body shaking as the jolt of electricity floods through me. He moves the rod around my nipple before removing it. Again I find myself breathing hard, and sweat is now dripping off me.

The look on his face is pure pleasure. My pussy wants attention after that, but he is clearly loving the torture that he is subjecting me to. I wonder if the fact I object and say no is fuelling his desire. If it is or isn't is not important, really. My body is so uncomfortable now; there is a stinging, tingling sensation in both my breasts now, and I think my nipples will be sore when I get to touch them. My arse is tensed, and I have to really think about it to make the muscles relax. But above all this, I want to cum; if I had a free hand, I would be rubbing my clit.

I shout around the gag in a muffled voice that is barely understandable, "Stop, no more," but I would be mortified if he stopped now. I want him to make it hurt, to make me cum, to show me that he is in total control, and that he will take it further than I asked, and push this as far towards consent as is possible.

Just as I am thinking this he plants the rod on my clit, pushing it in squashing my clit against my pelvic bone, the pain that fills my lower region is intense, I scream loudly around the gag, my clit on fire with pain as I feel my muscles in my pelvic area, and my legs tense really hard. I am shaking against the flow of pain that is running through me, lost for a moment in the buzz of vibrations that seem to be all that remains of my clit. I think I am about to cum as you remove the rod; I am left almost hyperventilating, my whole body shaking from the orgasm it didn't quite get.

There is laughter. I struggle to bring my mind back to awareness, but as I do, I see you laughing at me. As my thoughts become more coherent, and the pain of the electrocution fades, you say, "You tell me, 'No, stop,' but then I have to stop before you cum. You are a dirty slut that wants all of this. You feign a desire for it to stop, but you would cry if it did!"

There is a moment where I think you expect me to reply before you realise I am gagged. It is lucky I am, really; I have been biting into the ball quite hard as the electricity is applied, and I would probably have hurt myself without it. However, as you realise I can't reply, you move in close and whisper in my ear, "I better step it up; this is no good if you are enjoying it." You release the ball gag, but only to let it drop away from my mouth; I suspect it is going back in shortly.

"Bastard!" I almost spit at you. If I am honest, it is as much for denying the orgasm as anything else. But you seem to ignore it, and I continue, having gathered myself. "I suppose in this situation it must be impossible to win, unless there were things that I specifically told you not to do." I hope that the goad will produce something unexpected, although if I am honest the pain he has just subjected me to was close to unbearable. Only then did it hit me that this was the second time he had used electricity on me. The first had been short and sharp, a stabbing pain at the point the shocker had been applied. This was much deeper; I could feel the current flowing through me.

He is holding a big metal dildo. It is like a flat-ended cylinder, about 1.5 inches in diameter, and about 10 inches long. "Which hole do you want this in?" he inquires, seeming to ignore what I have said.

"Your arse!" I sarcastically say.

"About time that gag went back in, then," was all he said as he put down the dildo, and grabbed my head, forcing the ball gag back in and fastening it very tight.

Next, he roughly pulled the plug from my arse, which hurt, and then with what felt like no lube, starts to force the cylinder into my arse. I scream into the gag, but he continues to roughly force it into my arse. I feel tears run down my face; this is far too painful, beyond what I expected. It's perfect.

He keeps forcing it in, until most of it is inside me. I have screamed throughout that process, and now I am breathing heavily and shaking. He fiddles with it, and I am sure he is attaching the power. Then I see him pick up the rod. I brace myself for the pain, closing my eyes, but it does not come. I gingerly open one eye, and look at him smirking, before he climbs on the bed and in a swift movement forces his cock into my pussy. It slides in easily, I am so wet, and excited, but I can't help feeling extremely full. His cock is big and I can feel it pressing on the skin that is being stretched by the metal dildo. He pushes more, and I feel his balls touch me. Then he moves the rod to my tits, and again slaps it on my nipple. Pain seems to explode from my arse; the cylinder spreads the feelings so much wider. I feel my muscles all tense up, as I scream again. My pussy is clamped around his cock. I can feel the vibrations flowing around him, and he must be getting some sort of charge from this, but, if he is, he is enjoying it.

It feels like minutes that he holds me there, the electricity buzzing, and my muscles tight. I can see my nipple is rock hard, almost enjoying the pain. I cough and splutter as he releases me. it is a very short time before he slaps the rod on the other tit. Everything is repeated in my response. I can't take much more.

Moments pass, and I would give anything for the pain to stop, but I am very disappointed when it does. He puts the rod down and grabs a cable attached to a crocodile clip. I watch as he adjusts something using his phone, then pulls back my lips forcing my clit into the open. I watch in horror as he snaps the clip onto my clit and the current starts again, milder, but still painful.

He lets go and then starts to pound my poor pussy, clenched and tight. I can't move; I just lay there in pain, taking the pounding. He thrusts in so hard, almost hurting me with his length.

"That's it, Rochelle, take it like a slut. You know this is exactly what you want," his voice is strained as he pounds me. He isn't wrong; this is what I want. He is torturing me, and using me however he wants, and I asked for all of this.

Almost in a blur of pain and exhaustion, I feel him cum, pumping his seed deep into my pussy. A pussy that is clamped tight around him. I cum hard, too; it is a little lost in the feelings that are being caused by my electrical stimulation, but what washes over me can only be described as a climax.

With his cock still inside me, he powers off the electricity. I feel my pelvic muscles relax, as he quite forcefully pulls the dildo from my arse, then the clip from my clit.

I feel him move and there is a feeling of loss as his cock slips from me. He unties me, and leaves me laying on the bed, aching all over. I watch as he collects quite a few things and disappears up the stairs. After a minute I realise that the relaxing muscles in my body are going to cause an issue if I don't move, and as slowly as I can, I get up and walk to the bathroom. I sit down and the toll of the treatment I have been subject to floods almost uncontrollably from my body, and I fall asleep sitting there.

I come to, a short time later. I am sure I have not been there long. I clean myself, but then decide to hop in the shower. As the warm water flows over me, I wince as the water rolls across some very sore pieces of skin, but generally the warmth makes my joints feel better. My hand slips to my clit, and I gently rub as I think about what has happened, enjoying the memories--even the fear--since this all began. I slowly approach an orgasm as I imagine him tying me up and spanking me again. I hold myself close to cumming as I draw out the thoughts and enjoy the feeling, then I press hard and cum, my body shaking in the water.

A few minutes later I am sitting on the bed in some big fluffy towels, slowly drying. I put the TV on and watch the afternoon TV that is designed for bored housewives. It is as I am sitting there that I realise that he has not put the chain back on; I am free. Well, sort of. I think about trying to escape for a moment, thinking out how I could ambush you. It lasts for a few seconds at most, then another part of my brain takes over, and I snuggle down into the towels and relax, slowly drifting back to a snooze.

I am jolted to awareness. The programme has changed, so a little time has passed, and I hear the door open. It was the lock turning that woke me. I jump out of the towels and throw them back towards the bathroom. I quickly kneel on the floor, bending over the side of the bed, my arse in the air facing you, as you walk down the stairs.

"What this?" you enquire as you reach the bottom. I think you are carrying a tray but I can't see properly.

"You didn't chain me, and I thought about escaping, like a bad girl, so I have assumed the position so you can punish me." It feels odd asking for punishment after everything he has done, but the part of me that wanted this is currently dominating my thoughts.

"You want to be punished?" he says, mild confusion in his voice.

"No, Master, but I assume you will want to for my thinking about escape, and want to minimise it, by helping you out." The dynamic that is playing out is very strange; I can't even explain it to myself. I want him to do things that I don't want, and this might cause some turmoil.

"The fact you didn't try is the main thing. I won't put the shackle on again if you are a good girl. But you are pointing that thing at me, and it would be a shame to waste it, especially as there are a few things that you have done that need punishment." He pauses and walks over to the table to place the tray down. As he passes, I can smell the food, and I kind of now wish I was eating, not bent over.

"So, you have been rude on a couple of occasions, and you answered back, and you interrupted me," he says as he picks up a strap. "I think that should be 15 lashes; you can count them."

He positions himself behind me, and I hope he has not noticed the hand between my legs rubbing my clit, as the air fills with a 'swish' sound and then a 'whack' as the first stroke slaps down across my arse. I yelp loudly--it was hard--and I lift myself up off the bed. I take a moment to steady myself but as I lay back down I say, "One."

I barely close my lips from the word and the swish happens again, biting into my skin as it hits. It catches one of the older welts, and I scream loudly, and jump up, hopping about, stroking my arse with my hands.

Loudly and forcefully he says, "Get back in position and we will do two again. And if you can't stay still, I will tie you so you can't move."

It takes me a moment, but I kneel back down and bend over the bed, almost shaking. I wait for the sound and then the pain. He keeps me waiting, held in that torment, then *whack* it arrives. I can't not scream, but I force my legs to stay still, as through tears and uneven breathing I say, "two."

I sob and yelp through 3 to 9, once putting my hand in the way and getting that hit with the strap and having to repeat seven as a result. I can feel the glow from my red cheeks, but I have been rubbing again from seven.

He stops at ten, and says, "Keeping your head on the bed where it is, stand up and spread your legs." I have to move my hand, as it will become obvious I am rubbing in this position; my pussy and my clit are exposed.

I stand there waiting for the next one, but it does not come. I go to move to see what is happening, and even before my hands have left the bed, I am bellowed at. "Don't you dare move a muscle young lady!" I freeze, and hold still, he might not be slapping but he is watching. After a moment he returns, and strokes my arse; it seems almost caring. Then his hand goes down between my legs and strokes up and down my pussy. There is something in his hand that he is rubbing up and down my wet lips. Suddenly there is a burning on my lips, and it is like nothing I have felt before.

I scream out, "No! What is that? Make it stop!" but all I hear is laughter. I go to rub my pussy to remove whatever it is, and my hand is slapped very hard; it stings and a red mark appears immediately. He says nothing, and I start to cry. "God no, please, I can't take that!" Tears are rolling down my face; I can barely see as he stands in front of me and presents a chili cut in half down its length. It must be what he rubbed on my pussy. "That's going to sting for quite a long time," he says, before he pauses and walks behind me. "Now, don't move, and take the rest of your punishment. If you move or fail to count, that chili is going up your arse."

With that he swings the strap and I feel the breeze as it moves between my legs and slaps my pussy lips. I scream out as the burning intensifies with the addition of a slap. It is nearly 30 seconds, I guess, before I realise I should be counting it. "Eleven," I sob out, the pain evident in my shaky voice.

There is a noise that sounds like satisfaction behind me before the swish of the strap fills my ears again, and another slap lands squarely across my lips, the tip smacking my clit hard. The yelp, almost scream, is less than before, but the sobbing that I can't stop is probably more than enough to tell him how much I hate this. It takes me a few seconds to say, "Twelve." I barely recognise the word; my voice has lost any composure.

When thirteen lands, it is the hardest he has slapped me yet, I scream and I can't stop my hand going up and covering my pussy, and it is all I can do not to collapse onto the bed. As he shouts at me, "Remove that hand, and place it back on the bed." I can't help think how much this is beyond what I asked for, but how I would not stop it, if I could. It takes a force of will to move my hand back to the bed and, if I am honest, if somebody was holding a naked flame to my pussy lips they would probably feel better than they did right then. I try to calm my breathing and sobbing a little, then say, "Thirteen."

As I wait for the next one, I have an almost overwhelming feeling that I want to rub my clit, to cum, I feel very aroused. I must be insane, but I want the next one, and I want it to be hard. I want it to make the burning worse. I am holding that thought as fourteen lands. Again, it is hard, and it has moved up a little; my clit is crushed by the strap as it lands. This causes a host of conflicting feelings. Even as I scream again at the pain, I am shuddering as little rivulets of pleasure bust out across my body from my clit. I say, "Fourteen," quickly, hoping that he follows up fast with the last one, although I don't want it to be the last.

The swish starts a moment after I have finished saying the word. The slap lands very hard, again crushing my clit. The pleasure sensations are more intense and wash across my body. The yelp is more carnal this time. I did not mean it to be. It take a moment for me to gather myself enough to speak and I say, "Twelve."

The sound behind me is almost a laugh, but not quite, but he does not disappoint, the strap swings and for the third time lands hit across my lips and clit. The pain is gruelling, but I moan out loud, shaking as my body moves so close to the orgasm I want. "Thirteen," I say for the second time tonight.

Again, harder than I ever believed I could withstand, the strap smashes into my lips and clit. It is perfect, and through the excruciating pain, I orgasm, shaking and tensing. I can't stop my knees bending a little and I get very close to collapsing on the bed. Slowly the pleasure seeps away, and the pain returns, my 'paingasm' subsiding.