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From: worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com (e. wolf)
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Subject: {ASSM} Jazz's Toys Part Six - Megan's Training Continues (M/f nc rape torture strong)
Date: Fri,  7 Dec 2001 10:10:02 -0500
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All standard disclaimers apply and then some. This kind of behaviour
should never be emulated in real life, and the author absolutely does
not condone any of the things contained in this story ever actually
happening. Do not read this if you're under 18 or are easily offended.

Jazz's Toys Part Six - Megan's Training Continues
by e. wolf

Megan thrashed in her bonds and shrieked through the thick penis gag
stuffed deep in her mouth. Her Uncle Jazz had been stuffing handfuls
of crushed ice into her cunt for the past twenty minutes, and her
innards burned with the cold. Her belly was swollen and distended with
the stuff, but it was impossible to tell through the thick layer of
gauze that enshrouded her entire body except for a small slit between
her legs.
She'd been encased in the gauze for five days now, although it could
have been months for all she knew. She was unable to see or hear
anything, and Jazz had kept her so tightly bound she was unable to
move her limbs at all. He'd shifted her position a few times, tying
her up on her knees for a while, on her stomach for a few hours, on
her back for a day or so, just so she didn't wind up with bed sores.
Despite her helplessness and the lack of sensation available to her,
Megan had been far from bored. True, Jazz had left her alone for hours
at a time to fester in her own terror and helplessness, but he'd paid
her frequent visits, and the horror of those and of not knowing when
the next would happen kept her constantly on edge. When she had
allowed herself to drift off to sleep, more often than not she'd
awakened to Jazz jamming his entire fist up her asshole, or dripping
hot wax on her clitoris, or poking needles into her labia.
Occasionally he would actually fuck her, tying her calves to her
thighs and ramming his cock into her so hard it felt like it was
coming up through her stomach.
The thick rubber gag in her mouth made her tongue and lips dry.
Occasionally Jazz would drip water through the breathing hole in the
gag so she wouldn't dehydrate too badly, but the gag was so big the
water went straight down her throat without touching her dried-out
mouth at all.

Jazz finished stuffing what was left in the bucket of ice into Megan's
cunt, which was much looser now  than it had been when he'd taken her
into his home a few days ago. He'd let the ice melt, he decided, then
untie the girl and clean her off. He suspected it was hot under all
that cotton batting, and she probably wouldn't smell too nice when he
cut it all off.
As the ice melted and leaked out of her cunt with a squelching noise,
a huge puddle of water collected under her on the bed. Finally Jazz
had enough of watching the ice melt - it was like watching paint dry,
he thought to himself bemusedly - and cut her loose from the bed. She
moaned in surprise as he lifted her easily and carried her downstairs
- it was the first time she'd been off the bed in five days, although
her internal clock was completely messed up, so it probably seemed
like much, much longer to her. Jazz had made it a point to make use of
her at all hours of the day and night so she wouldn't be able to get
any sense of routine.
He set her down on the concrete floor of his basement, up against a
wall where there was a drainage hole in the floor, then fastened a
chain loosely around her gauze-encased neck and set to work with a
pair of sharp scissors cutting off the thick fabric.
Megan began to hyperventilate as she felt the cold steel of the
scissors scraping against her skin - the first thing she'd really felt
in days besides pain. She thrashed her newly-freed arms and legs
around, trying to use her hands, which were enclosed in thick, tight
leather mittens, to feel her own body, but it was no use. He hacked
and sliced at the gauze, letting it fall free in chunks to the floor.
When it came to Megan's head, he was careful around her face - he
didn't want to poke out an eye or anything - but he wasn't
particularly careful about the back of her head, and wound up cutting
off large chunks of her hair. He cut the straps on the dildo gag, too,
and yanked it roughly out of her mouth, then took off her leather
mittens and booties.
Finally she lay naked on the floor in a pile of gauze, the bright
spotlight over her head blinding her. She squeezed her eyes tightly
shut but the light still seeped in, hurting her head.
"It's time for a bath," Jazz said loudly. Megan cringed at the sound
of his voice, whimpering with terror and shock at the light and the
feeling of air touching her skin. She had a trace of heat rash, Jazz
noticed, from sweating for so long in the thick fabric, but nothing a
little hydrocortisone cream wouldn't fix. And she wouldn't be
overheating again anytime soon, he thought with a grin. He pulled a
hose off the wall, hooked it up to the faucet of his laundry sink and
turned the water on `cold.' The spray felt like thousands of tiny
needles tearing through Megan's newly-exposed flesh, and she rolled
and writhed on the floor, curling into a fetal position as Jazz aimed
the spray at her face, her torso, under her arms, between her legs.
When he was satisfied he'd rinsed most of the sweat and stink off her,
Jazz approached her and lifted her by the collar to her feet. She
wobbled unsteadily, her legs unused to holding her weight after being
bound up for so long. Jazz gripped her head in his hands and stared
into her face, his cold grey eyes boring into her.
"Look at me," he commanded. His voice was soft, dangerous. "Look at
me, slave. Who am I?"
"Ah-unka Jazz," she managed, her mouth dry and stiff.
"No, Megan. I am `Master' to you. Understand? Say it."
"Astah," she managed, not able to completely control her jaw and
tongue.
"Very good, bitch. That's what you are, my little doggy bitch." He
took a step back from her, still holding her heavy chain collar in his
hand. "Now, I'm sure you're thirsty after your little training
session, there, so I'm going to let you have a drink. But you're going
to be a good little bitch doggy and drink it properly." And he shoved
her to her knees, where she landed with a whimper on the hard
concrete. He tugged on the collar, led her to a stainless steel bowl
on the floor full of murky water.
"There you go, doggy bitch, lap it up."
The Megan of five days ago would have thrown a temper tantrum and
refused the drink, no matter how thirsty she was. But it didn't even
occur to this new Megan to be repulsed or insulted. She lowered her
head and began to gulp noisily at the dirty water in the dish,
slurping it down and swishing it around her long-dry mouth. In no time
at all she had drained the bowl while Jazz stood over her and laughed.
"Did you like that, bitch?" he said when she'd done.
"Yes Master."
"Good girl. Now, for answering correctly, Megan, I'm going to give you
a treat." He crossed to a chair, a big overstuffed one, and pulled off
his boots. "Come here, bitch. Crawl to me," he ordered. Terrified,
Megan obeyed him. Her arms and legs were stiff and her skin felt raw
from the cold water, but it didn't even occur to her to argue or
disobey. As she approached Jazz's chair he put his bare feet on either
side of her head and roughly pulled her closer.
"This is your treat," he said, rubbing his toes over her face. "My
feet are pretty sore - I thought I'd let you lick them for a while."
"Yes, Master," Megan said, a hint of reluctance in her voice. She did
it, though, took one foot in her stiff, sore hands and began to kiss
it and run her tongue over it almost lovingly. It tasted terrible,
sweaty and musty, but there was no thought of disobedience in her
mind, only of survival. Jazz wanted her to do this - she didn't know
the specific consequence of disobeying, only that it would be far, far
worse than the task itself.
He smiled as the girl sucked each of his thickly callused toes into
her mouth, slurping and moaning as he felt her breath against the sole
of his foot. He let her go on like that for a while, ten or fifteen
minutes, before he pulled that foot away and shoved the other one in
her face. When she'd thoroughly laved that one with her tongue as
well, he gripped her by the collar again and pulled her up into his
lap.
Megan began to tremble. The last time he'd held her in his lap she'd
received a terrible spanking.
"Please," she whispered. "Please don't."
"Don't what?" Jazz said, genuinely surprised. "I haven't even told you
what's coming next."
"Don't hit me," she said.
Jazz laughed and kissed her on the lips, gently.
"Why would I hit you, Megan? You're being a good girl. As long as
you're good I won't have to hurt you."
Strange words, he thought. Usually he just hurt women because he liked
to, not because of any consequence of their behaviour. But the rules
he planned to set for Megan were so arbitrary and complex that it was
only a matter of time before she broke one of them and needed to be
punished. If you looked at it that way, he thought, he'd spoken the
truth.
Now he ran his hand over her face.
"Lick my hand now, Megan. Suck it good."
Relieved, she began to suckle at his fingers, taking his huge hand in
her small ones and running her tongue across it, kissing and sucking
and moaning as he probed his fingers over her tongue and teeth, prying
her jaw open further.
He paused and pulled his fingers from her mouth to kiss her deeply,
probing his tongue into her mouth, feeling his teeth pressing against
her dry lips. She sucked eagerly on his tongue as he began to run his
hands over her naked body.
"Good girl," he whispered huskily, pulling away from her. "Now I have
something else for you to lick." He opened his legs and let her fall
through them to the floor at his feet. Megan looked up at him with
wide eyes, not sure what to do next.
"A good slut always asks permission before she touches Master's cock,"
he told her. "So come on, bitch. Ask if you can suck my cock."
Megan considered the words for a second, then stammered them back to
Jazz.
"Please, Master, can I suck your cock?" she whispered.
"I don't know if you CAN or not, but I suppose you MAY," he said with
a grin. He slid forward in the chair and tilted his hips to offer her
better access to his cock. He was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts,
a deliberate choice to make things easier for this, his new slave's
first blow job. After a few seconds' consideration Megan gingerly
lifted the elastic waistband of Jazz's boxers and pulled it down over
his cock and balls.  She stared at his massive organ for a moment -
she'd never seen an uncut cock before, and even soft, it was the
largest one she'd ever seen. She'd only fucked two boys before, and
both their organs had been fairly small. There was no way Jazz's would
ever fit in her mouth.
"Start by licking my balls," he instructed. "You can work your way up
to my cock."
Megan began to lick Jazz's pendulous nutsack, grimacing at the feel on
her tongue, warm and hairy, but still so grateful to have been
unwrapped and allowed to move freely that she didn't even hesitate.
Jazz moaned and shifted his weight in his chair, feeling his cock
begin to twitch.
"Now lick the shaft," he said. "Use your hands, bitch."

Megan felt the large organ begin to swell and harden beneath her
tongue as she slurped away at it.
"Mmm, yeah, take the head in your mouth." Jazz's voice sounded raspy,
like he was having trouble breathing all of a sudden. The girl was a
natural cocksucker, he thought as she wrapped her lips around the
plum-sized head of his now fully-erect organ. He let her do most of
the work for the first few minutes, sucking progressively more and
more of his shaft into her mouth.
Finally, though, he couldn't take any more of her making love to his
cock - he needed to fuck the girl's throat, and now.
"Lie down on the floor, Megan," he said huskily. He knelt over her and
straddled her face, his taut, hard balls brushing against her nose as
he leaned her head back and lined his cock up with her throat. Without
warning he shoved his huge erection into her mouth, making her gag and
sputter as he fucked her face hard. She began to cough as his precum
squirted into her throat, then to choke as he sprayed the inside of
her mouth with his hot sticky cum.
Jazz finished cumming and pulled his cock out of Megan's mouth,
letting her writhe on the floor for a few minutes, gasping for air. He
let her recover for a minute or two before pulling her to her knees by
the chain still around her neck.
"When you've finished sucking me off, Megan, I want you to thank me
for giving you my cum. Understand?"
Megan coughed and hacked up beads of Jazz's sticky jizz, then managed
a whispered "Thank you, Master."
"Good cunt," he said, and hauled her to her knees again. "I bet you're
hungry after five days without food, aren't you, cunt?"
Five days? Megan's mind reeled. Had it only been that long? That meant
she still had twenty-five days of this to go. That might as well be
the rest of her life.
"Yes Master," she said.
"Well, as tempting as it is to feed you nothing but cum for a month, I
thought it might be better to keep your energy up a little."
He placed a second bowl on the floor, this one full of dry dog food.
Megan frowned as she looked at it; she was ravenous, but dog kibble?
Surely she couldn't eat that.
Jazz cuffed her across the side of the head.
"I'm offering you food, you little slut, I expect you to be grateful."
"I'm sorry, Master," she muttered, and set to eating as fast as she
could. She gobbled at the dog food as Jazz stood over her and stroked
her raggedly-cut hair.
"You'll be punished for that little hesitation," he said as she
finished eating. "But first, I want to show you something."
Jazz pulled Megan to her feet and led her over to what appeared to be
a framed picture on the wall which was hidden by a black cloth. He
pulled the cloth aside to reveal a full-length mirror, and Megan
gasped when she saw her reflection in it.
There were dark circles under her eyes from her long days wrapped in
gauze, and her hair was a jagged mess. Her skin was red and raw all
over from sweating into the hot fabric, but the thing that most caught
her attention were the eight thick steel rings hanging from her cunt
lips.
"You like those, do you?" Jazz said with a smile. "I do, too. They're
a little lonely, though. We need to give them some company. Get down
on your knees, Megan, and clasp your hands behind your head."
Megan just gaped into the mirror.
"You ... you made me a freak," she whispered.
"Now, now, Megan. I'm only halfway there, my dear cunt. Now, you're
already going to be punished for hesitating before you ate your lunch,
and we're going to add that little hesitation onto your punishment.
How much worse would you like it to get?"
Megan began to tremble and sunk to her knees. This wasn't punishment?
Seeing herself like that?
Jazz stood to one side as he began to stroke the nipple of her left
breast, making sure she could see her reflection in the mirror. She'd
been blindfolded while he put in her first piercings - he'd stuck
dozens, no, hundreds of needles into her exposed cunt lips during her
sensory deprivation - she probably hadn't noticed the difference when
he'd added the rings. But he wanted her to see the rest of these
little additions, and to know their purpose.
"I think you'll look good with a nose ring, to begin with," he said.
Megan stopped shaking for a second. A nose ring ... well, a lot of
cool kids had those, she reasoned. Maybe with a clever hairstylist and
a few hours at a tanning salon she wouldn't look like such a complete
ghoul when she returned to school in a few weeks after all ... that
is, providing Uncle Jazz didn't prove to be a psychopathic killer as
well as a sexual sadist.
But when Jazz grabbed a pair of forceps and used them to pull down on
her septum, the thin membrane between her nostrils, she let out a
squeal and tried to pull away.
"I wouldn't recommend wiggling around a lot, baby," he said. "I'd hate
to hurt you more than I need to. At least, not right now. I'd rather
save it for your punishment later on."
She tried to hold herself as still as possible as Jazz jammed what
seemed an impossibly thick needle through her septum, then filled the
hole with a heavy iron ring that felt like it was going to tear the
skin.
"I'm going to play with those nice heavy udders of yours next," Jazz
announced, going back to stroking her left nipple. "I thought it would
be fitting if you had a big ring in your nose like a real little cow."
He teased her nipple until it hardened, then took out another needle,
just as thick as the one he'd used on her septum but more than three
times as long, and prodded it against the skin at the base of her
aureola. Megan let out a whimper but tried to hold still as he poked
the long, heavy needle through her titflesh. He added a heavy ring to
this hole, then walked around behind her to repeat the procedure on
her left.
"Very nice," he told her. "Now we're going to move onto your
punishment. Since you disobeyed me twice, you will be punished for an
hour for each infraction. I'll give you half an hour between each
punishment to rest up. Understood?"
Megan began to cry as she nodded.
"Yes Master," she sobbed.
Jazz made her crawl back to the centre of the room and laid her down
on the floor. For a second she thought he was going to rape her, as he
grabbed her right ankle and pulled it sharply into the air. Oh well,
she thought, nothing he hadn't done at least a dozen times over the
past five days, and steeled herself for his weight.
But it never came. Instead Jazz fastened her ankle into an iron
shackle and moved over to the wall, where he began to turn a handle
that activated a pulley in the ceiling. Megan heard a chain clanking
as it pulled her ankle even higher, until it was raised at a
ninety-degree angle to her body, leaving her spread wide and
vulnerable.
"First I'm going to whip your cunt for half an hour," he said. "Then
we'll test the piercings in those cunt lips of yours, make sure
they're nice and secure."
"Y-yes Master," Megan bawled. 
She tried to brace herself as Jazz wandered off into the shadows and
returned with a heavy, many-tailed leather flogger. He had to kneel on
the floor to have full access to her cunt, which cut down slightly on
the usual velocity of his swing, but he suspected the girl wouldn't be
able to tell the difference at this early stage of her training.
Indeed, she began to shriek as he brought down the whip on her
spread-open sex, thrashing about, trying in vain to free her leg from
the shackle holding it suspended. The chain made a lovely rattling
sound as he let the flogger fall again and again, enjoying the `splat'
it made against her spread, moist skin. Occasionally he would move
around her a little, changing his angle to get better access to her
clit or asshole, depending on which he'd been neglecting over the past
few minutes.
Megan squalled and begged until she was hoarse: "Please stop! Let me
go, please, I'll be good, Master, I promise ..."
After what seemed like forever the blows stopped coming, and Jazz
stood and hung the whip back on the wall.
"All right," he said, uncuffing her ankle. "Let's see about those
piercings, now."
He led her to the wall, where there was a large X-shaped wooden frame
mounted securely. She barely struggled as he cuffed her into it, her
resistance more a matter of her trying to bend double and nurse her
aching cunt than of any actual attempt to escape. Soon she was
stretched wide and ready for him. He had a series of weights attached
to tiny hooks - they looked like small lead Christmas tree ornaments -
and he began to hang them from the rings in Megan's cunt lips.
"We won't put too many on there today," he said. "We wouldn't want to
rip those rings out right away - we'll wait until the skin's healed up
a little before we start carrying buckets of water with them."
Megan just moaned in pain and horror as he added a pound, then two
pounds, then seven, ten, twelve pounds from her tender lips. He
stopped at fifteen pounds and stood back.
"Very nice," he said. "Now, we still have twenty minutes left in this
half-hour. Let's see if we can really make those weights sway."
He picked up a long, thin bamboo cane and swished it through the air
to test it as Megan gaped in horror. He scarcely hesitated before he
brought it up and back down again, this time squarely across Megan's
belly. She squealed and tugged at her bonds as he lashed at her again,
the cane THWACK-ing against her breasts this time, leaving an angry
red welt. He turned to get a better angle. THWACK. He just hit the
underside of one tit that time. THWACK. The top of her other tit.
SPLAT. Right across both nipples, wringing an especially loud squawk
from her this time. He decided to give her a few surprises now, and
brought the cane smashing up against the soft exposed flesh of her
underarm. Then he lashed across the tops of her thighs, setting the
weights to clanging together and tugging fiercely at her cunt lips.
"No! Stop! NNN oww! You're tearing them out! OH, STOP! Please! Uncle
Jazz, please, I'll do whatever you want, please don't hurt me anymore,
please!"
Her voice was ragged from screeching by the end of the twenty minutes,
and Jazz left her to hang for a few minutes.
"We've still got an hour of your punishment to go," he told her. "But
I guess we'll give you a little rest in between. You can take those
weights off yourself." He released Megan from the frame and let her
drop to the ground, where she began to frantically pull at the weights
that still tugged at the rings in her cunt. Some of them were harder
to get off then others, and she wound up hurting herself even more
than just the swinging of them during her caning.
When all the weights were unhooked Jazz pulled his cock out of his
shorts and aimed it at her mouth. Instinctively she opened wide and
wrapped her lips around it. She nearly choked with surprise and
disgust as he let loose a stream of hot piss into her throat, grunting
with relief.
"Swallow it," he said, wiping the last drops of urine from his cock
onto her lips. Then he seized her collar and led her back to the
mirror.
"Now, let's do something about that hair of yours, cunt," he told her.
He pulled out a set of clippers and turned them on. Tears of
humiliation streamed down Megan's cheeks as she felt the blades
whirring at the back of her neck. What was left of her beautiful
ginger curls fell over her naked shoulders, some of them bouncing off
her breasts, one catching in her right nipple ring on its way to the
floor. Jazz grinned and stepped away from the nearly-bald girl,
enjoying her sobs as he stroked his cock through the thin fabric of
his shorts.
"Y-you ..." Megan sputtered, wiping her hands across her face. "You're
a ... monster!"
"Maybe so," Jazz said. "But by the time I'm finished with you, you're
going to want nothing more than to please me. Of course, I'm not going
to keep you, but when I give you back to my brother, you'll want to
please him, too. He and your mother have already agreed that if you
have any lapses you'll be sent back to me for more training. Do you
understand what I'm saying to you, cunt?"
"Yes, Master," the girl bawled.
"Good. Now let's work on the next phase of your punishment," he said.
"I believe we still have an hour to go."
 
To be continued ...

Any questions/comments/suggestions are welcome. Please let me know
what you think of this series so far. worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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