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Subject: {ASSM} New Desire 02/02 {Althea} (FF ws rape oral anal torture)
Date: Fri,  3 Oct 2003 05:10:05 -0400
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"New Desire" - Part 2
   by Althea


I was somewhat more subdued the next morning. My breasts were
excruciatingly painful and when I examined them in the bathroom
mirror, their appearance was shocking. Ugly blue, purple and
yellow bruises virtually covered their entire surface, with a
random pattern of scratches and cuts. I couldn't bear to wear a
bra. Despite selecting my loosest fitting blouse it still hurt
every time I moved. My injuries as well as doubts about my safety
dissuaded me from ringing the number on Melanie's card straight
away. As I slowly recovered though, my new sexual needs made
calling her inevitable. I now pissed almost every time I
masturbated. Sometimes I would piss into the thermos flask and
then drink my piss while I climaxed. I even did it in the toilets
of the library where I worked. Something that disturbed me more
than my appetite for urine or the possibility of a lesbian
relationship with Melanie, was that I was starting to fantasize
about her hurting me. When I masturbated I would imagine her
raping me violently. With all these considerations added to my
normal extreme shyness it took me two weeks to work up the
courage to phone her.

When I had finally breached the barriers of receptionist and
private secretary, Melanie brushed aside my apologies for delay.
"You have every reason for procrastination Althea. Any reluctance
to submit yourself to even worse treatment than you have
experienced hitherto, is quite understandable." "E-even worse!" I
stuttered. "Of course it will be worse, you silly girl," Melanie
laughed. "If I get you where no one can interfere, you will
really suffer!" I couldn't speak. A few moments of silence
passed. "Well my dear, I have a client to attend to shortly. So
if you can't make up your mind what you want - I think I've made
my position quite clear. You had better find some other way of
amusing yourself." "No! Please, I'm sorry! I didn't mean... What
do you want me to do?" I asked humbly. "That's much better," she
replied. "What I want is for you to come to my apartment this
weekend. After you have finished work on Saturday that is. Two PM
the library closes I believe? And you are finished perhaps,
fifteen minutes later?" "Yes Melanie," I agreed. I was hardly
surprised that she knew where and when I worked. She was
obviously a woman who found out everything she wanted to know.
"Hmmmm... I know that I introduced myself as Melanie, but now I
think it would be more appropriate if you were to address me as
Ms. Wakefield." "Yes Ms. Wakefield." "You will find a taxi
waiting for you when you finish work." Without waiting for a
reply Ms Wakefield hung up.

Part of me hoped that the taxi would not be there when I left my
work, but of course it was. Surprisingly the driver took me
towards the center of town and stopped outside the entrance of an
old office block. 'Is this it?" I asked the young man. "This is
where I was told to drop you off," he confirmed. I got out of the
taxi and stood bemused before the doors. The only nameplates were
of companies I had never heard of. "Push the door when you hear
the buzz and take the lift to the top floor," the intercom
crackled. When the dilapidated lift finally arrived at the
fourteenth floor, the view that emerged through the opening doors
was quite unexpected. Walls of rough stucco surrounded a small
tiled floor lobby. The ceiling was constructed wooden slates set
in a simple pattern. A bronze statue of a rather menacing
abstract design guarded a heavy wooden door. The effect was
vaguely Japanese.

This impression was reinforced when Ms. Wakefield opened the door
to reveal a hall way lined with rice paper panels. She was
dressed casually in faded jeans, a white T-shirt and brown
leather sandals. "Good afternoon Althea," Ms. Wakefield greeted
me, motioning me inside. I heard a loud clunk as the door locked
behind me. She took me by the hand and led me down the hall way.
"We'll sit outside I think. Well it's not really outside, but you
will see what I mean." The room we came to was large, maybe fifty
feet to a side. The ceiling was higher than in the hall way and
illuminated by skylights. The plants, rocks and timber decking
did indeed give the impression of outdoors. There was even a
small pond containing water lilies and golden carp. Various
doorways gave access to the rest of the apartment. Ms. Wakefield
guided me to a seat made of rough cut wood and natural stone. She
sat with me, still holding my hand.

I gazed around at the seemingly uncontrived beauty of the indoor
garden, occasionally glancing furtively at the beauty of Ms
Wakefield too. Except for the sound of water flowing from a
bamboo pipe set amongst some rocks in the middle of the pond, the
garden was entirely silent. It was almost impossible to imagine
that a bustling city was just outside. "Your apartment is
wonderful!" Ms. Wakefield smiled, "I am rather fortunate to have
this level of peace and solitude without the bother of commuting
for an hour. Especially the solitude." I was very conscious of
how close she was. I could smell her. I wanted to taste her. Her
very large breasts were so much more prominent in her tight thin
T- shirt than her previous attire.

I tried to calm myself. "M-Ms. Wakefield, can I ask you a
question?" "Certainly Althea. As long as I don't regard it as
impertinent I may even answer." With her free hand she stroked
the hand she held reassuringly. "The first day, on the train; was
that the first time you saw me?" "No. The first time I saw you,
you were leaving a cafe on your way back to work." "That must
have been..." "Your birthday. Yes, as I subsequently discovered,
if I hadn't seen you then I may never have met you. You normally
don't leave your work at lunchtime." "Is there anything you don't
know about me?" I asked. "Quite possibly. I only know: your full
name, birth date, birth place, blood mother, father unknown,
foster parents, academic history, work history, lovers none,
friends one, acquaintances three, current address, past addresses
and a pet cat by the name of Henry. Besides that, there is
probably much I am ignorant of; but all I do know, I knew before
you first saw me." I was speechless!

After waiting patiently for some minutes Ms. Wakefield explained,
"If my interest in you seems obsessive that's simply because, I'm
obsessed. From the first time I saw your... incredible beauty; I
needed to have, to possess, to own you." "I'm not so beautiful,"
I protested, turning my head away self-consciously. "Your lack of
vanity, indeed self-knowledge, is a good part of your appeal,"
she retorted. "In any case, your opinion does not hold sway here.
Have you taken note of the elegant whipping posts?" She indicated
a structure close to where we were seated. I had noticed the two
thick timber uprights standing unsupported and a few yards apart,
but it had not occurred to me that their purpose anything other
than aesthetic. Now I noticed the iron rings set the wood. Also,
a trunk of dark carved wood beside one of the columns. Ms.
Wakefield took hold of my chin and made me look at her. "There is
nothing more beautiful than a young woman screaming!" She told me
this with such immovable conviction that I could only whisper
"Yes," by way of an answer. "We need to prepare. Come with me."
She stood up and walked away. I followed.

In a white tile clad bathroom room lit dazzlingly bright with
halogen lights, she cleaned me, inside and out. A large enema bag
was filled three times with hot soapy water and once with plain
warm water. All this liquid entered and evacuated my rectum. It
was very embarrassing, especially the evacuation, which Ms.
Wakefield watched intently. She admonished me not to piss while I
expelled the water. This was difficult as I deliberately hadn't
emptied my bladder all day. Ms. Wakefield then shaved my vagina.
She used the same cutthroat she had threatened me with at the
station. I found the shaving both frightening and incredibly
sexual. The blade against my cunt brought me close to orgasm. We
showered together, she scrubbing us both roughly with a stiff
brush and soap. She shampooed my hair and rubbed some sort of
scented oil into my skin. I experienced a strange feeling of
comfort in the way she attended to me. After drying me with a
warm fluffy towel she combed my hair and even clipped my nails.
As I waited for Ms. Wakefield to finish her own ablutions, I
examined my reflection in a large heated mirror. I looked and
felt more cleansed than I had ever felt before. All was fresh and
tingling with renewal. My perfectly hairless vagina only added to
this feeling of rebirth.

"This is going to hurt Althea. It's going to hurt a lot. It is my
hope that as well as the pain, you will experience some of the
pleasure I feel when I abuse you. That is my hope; but regardless
of your needs, I will have my desire fulfilled. Willing or no,
you will be my bitch!" We were naked by the whipping posts. Ms.
Wakefield held me close while she caressed my back. A strange
contrast of feeling safe and warm in her arms, with the fear of
the violence about to happen. Had I come to Ms. Wakefield for
sex, possibly love, despite the pain I knew I would experience,
or did I actually want to be tortured as well? I hoped I was not
so perverse as to desire the latter, but to my shame my doubt
continued. "Stand in the center of the posts with your back to
me," Ms. Wakefield commanded. "Look only ahead." I obeyed,
feeling frightened and excited. I heard her open the trunk.
Rummaging around. The squeak of leather. Then a sound of metal.
The sound of chains.

My wrists and ankles were fastened to the chains by plastic ties
such as mechanics use. Only after I was secured; my arms
stretched high and my legs forced wide apart, did she allow me to
turn my head so she could show me the whip. A riding crop,
perhaps a foot longer than the ones I'd seen the jockeys use.
Made of a dark red leather, it appeared not only well used, but
from an earlier time. The whip went well with the boots she was
now wearing. The same boots she had worn on the train. She
supported her large round breasts with a leather half cup bra,
but what really completed her outfit, was a moulded leather mask.
It only covered from her forehead down to the top of her
cheekbones. It was just enough to add a hint of evil. She was now
a sex bitch dressed in leather.

"No... please! No!" I begged. With only the balls of my feet in
touch with the ground, there was nothing else I could do. I felt
stupid to protest at this late stage, but I couldn't help myself.
Ms. Wakefield said nothing. She only smiled cruelly, and drew
back her arm. "AAAAAAGH!" I screamed at the top of my voice as
she brought the whip down across the middle of my back. The pain
was shocking. It was as if I was being beaten with a length of
barbed wire. Although I had feared the pain, I hadn't imagined it
would be quite as terrible. A great tearful sob escaped me.
"Please, not so hard!" I pleaded, dreading the next stroke.
Nothing happened. After a while I dared to look over my shoulder.
She hadn't stopped, she was just waiting with her eyes closed.
Her stance wide as she ever so slowly drew the whip up and down,
between the lips of her hairy vagina. Suddenly she snapped her
eyes open and raised the whip again. "OOOOOWWWRRRGH!" I shrieked
as she whipped me again, tearing the flesh on my shoulders. Again
she paused, then quickly beat me twice across my buttocks.
Another wait, longer than the first. Then she let me have it on
the top of my thighs, lower back and bum again in quick
succession.

Each time she whipped me my body jerked in an uncontrollable
spasm. I was howling for mercy constantly, only screaming louder
when the riding crop bit deep. Vainly I struggled against the
chains. I don't know how many times she beat me before she
stopped and walked around to face me. Many, many times. I could
feel warm blood oozing from the ragged welts in my skin. "Did you
enjoy that?" she asked. "It was horrible!" I complained bitterly
through my tears. "Really? If that's the case," she put a hand on
my vagina and roughly inserted a finger, "how come you're so
wet?" I couldn't answer. "See!" she sneered as she held her now
dripping finger under my nose. "You beg me not to hurt you, but
you deserve everything you get. You deserve it because you want
it!"

"No!" I bawled sorrowfully, but I knew I was lying, both to Ms.
Wakefield and to myself. Although the pain was horrific, my
vagina would not let me conceal my deepest need. My cunt was
telling me a fundamental truth; I was a worthless lesbian slut
who wanted to be dominated and abused viciously. Ms. Wakefield
pushed her finger into my mouth. "So what are you tasting,
whore?" I felt so humiliated. I was even enjoying the flavour of
my own lubrication! I was also bursting with the need to piss.
She grabbed hold of both my ears and held my face nose to nose.
"Tell me bitch! Tell me what you know to be true!" she whispered
huskily. And suddenly despite all my fear and shame I found
myself confessing, "Yes I want it! I'm a dyke bitch! I want to be
your bitch! Hurt me as much as you like! Please whip me some
more!" Ms. Wakefield grinned broadly. "Very good! That's just
what I want to hear. Anywhere in particular you would like me to
whip you?" I froze as an image of me screaming under her whip
blazed across my mind. "I... I want you to whip my tits!
Please... please whip my tits and... and my cunt! Whip my tits
and cunt as hard as you can!"

I thought I had screamed as loud as was humanly possible. When
the whip struck my little pointy breasts, slashing right across
one of my erect nipples, I howled my lungs out!
"AAAAAAAAAAAGGHHH!!! This was pain on another level. Its
intensity beyond anything I could have imagined, and I wanted it!
I wanted more! The leather clad sex goddess in front of me
enthusiastically fulfilled my desire. Her face exhibited such joy
as she beat me. She was perspiring with the effort, her big round
breasts jiggling up and down despite the tight support of her
bra. Five hard strokes to my breasts then a vicious uppercut
directly on my naked wet vagina. I lost control of my bladder and
began to orgasm! My piss sprayed everywhere as Ms. Wakefield
madly whipped my cunt again and again. Much of my urine sprayed
on my tormentor, but she ignored it in her passion to thrash me.
I was screaming and pissing and cumming like a demented slut. I
was having multiple orgasms. Each time my climax began to
subside, the whip hitting my clitoris started a new spasm in my
cunt, which spread throughout my body. Ms. Wakefield only stopped
whipping me when I ran out of piss.

Hanging exhausted in the chains it took some time for my heart
beat and breathing to reach something like a normal pace. "Well
Althea, you've made a pretty mess." I was a mess. Blood, sweat
and tears were certainly prevalent. "I don't normally tolerate
being pissed on, but considering the... provocation, I'll let it
pass for now." She opened her razor and cut me free of the
straps. My hands had lost almost all feeling. "You had better
clean up though." Ms. Wakefield indicated her urine splattered
skin. "I'm very sorry Ms. Wakefield," I apologized and
immediately set to licking my piss from her whip arm. When I had
finished sucking up every last drop from her gorgeous body she
pointed to the floor. Great puddles of my warm yellow piss
covered the bare wooden planks. I sank to my knees and began
sucking my urine up from the floor. I felt like such a dirty
whore! When I had completed this task I looked up to see Ms.
Wakefield holding a bizarre assemblage of rubber cocks, leather
belts and brass buckles.

"Help me into this," she commanded. It was a strap-on dildo, but
far more complicated than the only one I had seen at picture of.
This one must have been custom made. One of the black rubber
penises was huge, at least ten inches long and very fat. It was
mounted on a thick triangle of brown leather. The other two
dildos were a few inches shorter and not quite as thick. One was
attached on the reverse side of the bottom of the triangle. The
other just below it, to the lower strap. What puzzled me was a
clear plastic tube only slightly above the topmost double dildo.
I was unclear as to how to assist her.

"Steady it for me," Ms. Wakefield instructed as she fingered her
vagina before smearing her anus with her cunt juice. I took hold
of the big front cock with both hands. My thumbs and forefingers
could not meet, such was the girth of the rubber member. She
positioned the two inner dildos; the top one at the entrance to
her cunt and the bottom one to her arse hole. "Aaaaaaaaah!" she
sighed as she slowly pushed them up herself. When she had them
halfway up, she stopped and took hold of the end of the plastic
tube. After applying more vaginal lubrication to the tube' s
rounded end, she held her labia open and inserted it carefully
into her urethra. I then understood that the piss hole at the end
of the artificial penis was not just for show. With a little
maneuvering, the triangle was flush with her genital mound. All
three of her lower orifices were penetrated. "Buckle the straps
around my waist and then attach the one between my legs to the
waist straps." Ms. Wakefield held the harness in place while I
carried out her instructions. "Do it tighter," she insisted. "The
little bumps that press against my clitoris must be held firmly
in place."

When I had tightened the harness as much as I could, Ms.
Wakefield walked around experimentally. The big black cock had
become part of her. It was as if it was her cock, bobbing up and
down with the rhythm of her step. She looked so obscene, her
ultra femininity contrasting rudely with her huge penis. She
stopped and stroked it lovingly; wanking herself. I just stood
there adoring her, too mesmerized to experience the fear I should
have. "Come here!" she suddenly barked at me. The fear returned
and I obeyed. "Down on your knees!" she snarled, standing with
her hands on her hips. From my position of subservience she
towered above me, the eye of her penis staring at me, inches from
my face.

"Keep your hands behind your back. Now, suck my cock!" I licked
around the glans of her rubber penis. Then opening my mouth as
wide as I could, I just managed to enclose the head of her cock.
My mouth was literally stuffed with rubber cock. "Deeper you
bitch! Suck me properly." I was endeavouring to take more,
achieving just a little, when she grabbed me impatiently by my
hair and rammed her strap-on right to the back of my throat. I
started to gag and tried to pull away, but Ms. Wakefield screwed
my head even harder on to her cock. I was choking on it! Now I
tried frantically to escape her, disobeying her order to keep my
hands behind me. I couldn't free myself. I couldn't breathe
either, but she was still trying to jam her cock into my throat!
Dots started to swim in front of my eyes and I was fading before
she gave up. My throat simply wasn't big enough.

Ms. Wakefield pushed me angrily onto my back. The results of her
whip stung fiercely as I hit the floor. "Spread your legs slut,
I'm going to fuck you!" "Oh God!" I whimpered, edging backwards
like a crippled spider. With one stride she threw herself on top
of me, levering my thighs apart with her knees. "Oh no! Please
don't!" She held me down while lining her black penis up with my
poor whipped vagina. While I knew that I really wanted to be
fucked, I feared her enormous dildo would rupture my tight little
cunt. "AAAUUURGHHHH, IT HURTS!" I shrieked as she pushed her huge
cock up me. Ms. Wakefield grunted in satisfaction, shoving her
strap-on dildo as hard as she could into my tender slit. My
little fuck tunnel was stretched open near to bursting point!
With each thrust she increased the depth of her stroke until she
was ramming the head of her cock against my cervix. I was amazed
that I could take it. I cried with the pain, but it felt good
too. I especially enjoyed having her on top of me, her big tits
bouncing in front of my face while she fucked me.

"You like this, don't you bitch?" she demanded. "Y.yes Ms
Wakefield. It hurts, but I love it!" I moaned. "Tell me how you
like it?" she insisted, lust in her eyes. "I like... I like it
hard! I like your big cock hard up my cunt! Please fuck me
senseless!" Ms. Wakefield was ecstatic at my words and began
fucking me faster. She was breathing hard and looking very
excited. "You really like it to hurt? Would you like me to hurt
you more?" she asked. "Oh yes! Please hurt me more! I want you to
rape me!" I pleaded. I could feel myself close to cumming again.
"Very well. Get on your knees!" Ms. Wakefield had pulled herself
out and was rolling me over before I could react to her words.
"No! Oh no!" I yelled, as I realised what was about to happen.
"You did say rape... and raped you shall be!" she hissed
venomously.

Despite all my terrified attempts to break free, Ms. Wakefield's
grip on my waist was immovable. As I felt the head of her hard
rubber penis against my virgin anus, I knew true horror.
"OOOWWWW! HELP! PLEASE HELP ME!" I begged, calling piteously for
assistance that didn't exist. Ms. Wakefield pushed slowly but
irresistibly against my little pink brown hole, opening it wider
and wider. "UUUUURRRRHH! DON'T! PLEASE DON'T!" My tight anal ring
stretched until it was as taut as a drum skin, yet still the head
of her penis could not fully enter. My anus just couldn't expand
any further. Ms. Wakefield growled in frustration, "I - will -
fuck - your - arse!" She gripped my pelvis with her cruelly
strong fingers and thrust with all her might.
"HHHUUUUUUUAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!" my throat burned with my
ragged animal scream. I felt my anus tear as she forced her
enormous cock to burst through and penetrate deep into my rectum!
"Ah yes, you little whore," Ms. Wakefield cried with triumph,
"take my cock!" I screamed myself hoarse as she sodomized me
violently. Her hips banged hard against my buttocks each time her
cock went right up my poor violated bum. Her penis felt like a
red hot knife; a knife she was stabbing my rectum with.

"OH Ms. WAKEFIELD, PLEASE STOP! PLEASE TAKE IT OUT!" I howled for
mercy as she raped me. I could hardly see for the tears in my
eyes. "When I've finished... you little cunt!" She pounded into
me faster and faster. I could hear her breathing like an
accelerating steam engine. "When... I've... cum! Ah fuck... I'm
doing it bitch! I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING UP YOUR ARSE!!!" And she
was! As well as the blinding pain I could feel a torrent of her
hot piss, flood into my rectum. Ms. Wakefield was pissing up my
bum! This was enough to tip me over the edge. Even though the
pain of anal rape was unbearable, I started to orgasm! Powerful
spasms of unbelievable pleasure surged through my tits and cunt!
"OH FUCK ME TO DEATH!!!" I blurted out uncontrollably as my body
shook in pain and lust. Ms. Wakefield continued to bugger me,
pissing all the time as she climaxed. I slowly slipped into
unconsciousness.

"Althea? Wake up my dear." I came to, lying on my side, to find
Ms. Wakefield bending over me. She had removed her strap-on
dildo, and the rest of her sex uniform. "What...? What happened
Ms Wakefield?" I was rather confused. "You passed out my poor
darling girl. I was so cruel to you, but I did enjoy it! Do you
forgive me?" she asked me quietly. She was holding me gently, a
look of deep concern on her face. I considered briefly the abuse
she had put me through before answering, "There is nothing to
forgive. I... I think I love you!" A broad grin broke out on Ms.
Wakefield's face. "Oh my darling!" she cried joyfully, cradling
me in her arms. We kissed, tears running down both our faces.
"Let's go to bed. We'll have a little rest before dinner." She
helped me to my feet, then supported me as I hobbled to her
bedroom.

"Ms. Wakefield, my bottom...?" "Aah, I had forgotten. Just wait
right here. I'll be back in a minute." I lent against a dressing
table, straining to hold the vast quantity of urine in my bowels.
Ms. Wakefield returned promptly with a large glass jug and two
wine glasses. She placed the jug on the carpet and helped me
squat over it. Her piss flowed from my arse like a waterfall. I
gasped at the pain of its passage through my lacerated anus, but
the relief was considerable when I had finished. "My poor little
baby, you're bleeding from your arse hole!" After putting the jug
and glasses on the night stand, she pulled back the covers and
helped me into her bed. Carefully parting my bum cheeks, Ms
Wakefield examined my anus. "It's not too bad. Perhaps if I kiss
it, I can make it better." Ever so tenderly she kissed my arse
hole. So delicately did she kiss and lick my anus, that it hardly
hurt at all. I felt so very much loved. "There, all better.
Hardly bleeding at all now," she assured me, patting me gently on
my rear. She poured two glasses of piss and handed one to me.
"Here's to us Althea," she toasted, raising her glass and
clinking it with mine. "To us," I agreed, and we drained our
glasses. After drinking another glass of piss each, Ms. Wakefield
hugged me to her breast. I fell asleep suckling on her nipple.


                         -- The End --


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