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From: "H. Jekyll" <h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Corinne's World   (M+F, bdsm, mdom, oral, anal, torture, damsel in distress)
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Date: Sun, 17 Jul 2005 17:10:03 -0400
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"Corinne's World"

By H. Jekyll

Story codes: Noir, M+F, bdsm, mdom, oral, anal, torture, damsel in
distress


*  *  *  *  *
Copyright 2005 by H. Jekyll. Permission is granted to post 
on any site that does not charge for entrance, as long as 
full attribution is given to the author. The story should 
not be read by anyone under the legal age to read sexually 
explicit stories, or by anyone in a location where it is 
illegal to read such stories.

"Corinne's World" previously appeared at "Ruthie's Club." 
An illustrated and formatted version can be found there. 
See: http://www.ruthiesclub.com/.

I love to correspond with fellow netizens: h_jekyll2000
@yahoo.com

Find H. Jekyll's stories in the Alt Sex Stories Text 
Repository (http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/h_jekyll/), 
and at "Ruthie's Club."
*  *  *  *  *


"Corinne's World"


In the beginning, Corinne is dying of thirst inches from the toilet's
water.

Her arms are crisscrossed behind her and each wrist is handcuffed to an
ankle. There's a large dog collar on her neck, with a chain that goes
to the toilet's water-intake pipe. There's just enough play so she can
work her head over the rim and smell the water inside.

How did she come here? She sometimes forgets to suffer, forgets to
remember, but she can't remember to forget long enough. It has been
three days. Or two. Or four. Corinne can't follow the time. After
smelling the water she licks the porcelain and slumps back to the floor
to forget everything until the sizzle in her nipples rouses her again.

The last time she blacked out Corinne felt her mother tuck her into bed
and kiss her forehead, like she did so many years ago, and whisper I
love you, Corrie-Glory. Was she saying goodbye? I miss you so much,
Mom.

Two men are talking. One of them is X, her master.

Look what I got here, says X.

The other man whistles and says, She's a fucking mess!

X makes a chortling sound. That's the way I like her.

Corinne moves her mouth a little to beg for drink. There is no saliva.
She can open her eyes but can't focus. The man's voice is familiar. She
can't place him, and she tries to swallow while they discuss her. 

Look here. The other's voice is close to her ear. She feels something,
a pinch on the skin of a breast. See? It stays up. She's dehydrated.
You could kill her if you're not careful.

Oh we'll have plenty of fun with her. 

She can't do anything for us like that.

Going soft?

She's damaged goods!

Corinne slips into a vision, one in which she is drinking the coldest
water imaginable. And drinking. And drinking. The voices wake her.

You want her? You can have her for a thousand. Fix her up and play with
her all you want.

Yeah. Right. Like I want to spend my money to get something I'd
probably have to dump right away.

X laughs.

Corinne recognizes the voice. He is one from the party X threw, one of
the men who came over to play with her that night, just before X
chained her to the toilet. Wasn't he the one who used the lighter on
her? She tries to think but loses her thread and is dreaming of water.

Nothing has happened since the party except that she's been dying. X
had warned her about the party. He said he charged the men a bundle and
she'd better be sweet. It's not easy to get into the society, so don't
disappoint me. Some of them give parties too. I don't charge those
guys.

For the first hour or so she served them, going back and forth to the
kitchen hobbled by ankle chains, serving drinks and snacks while they
watched sadistic pornography. They touched her and pinched her and
stared at her. She was going to be the main entertainment.

The man is talking. Tell you what, though. I'll give you three-fifty,
cash. I might be wasting my money, but I'm willing to take the chance.
But I need a signed statement that says she was pretty much done for
when I got her. 

Make it five and you got a deal.

At some point during the party the men had been making Corinne into a
sandwich, fucking her ass and vagina at the same time. Another one
stuck his erection into her mouth. The others were laughing and
cheering. They were having a great time. One of them asked, You want to
feel something incredible? He had two other men hold her tight. Then he
took a butane lighter, lit it, and moved the flame across her right
nipple. Corinne went crazy. She screamed around the dick in her mouth
and twisted her body every way she could, so hard the men could hardly
hold her. The man moved the flame to her left breast and the man in her
mouth squirted into her.

Damn! said the man in her ass. Don't stop! Man that was great! Corinne
was moaning. Noo, noo, please, noo. Another man pulled her mouth open
and stuck his dick in. 

This time when the flame came Corinne bit the penis. The man cursed and
slapped her. He stepped back and hit her on the side of the head and in
the stomach, before X pulled him off. The party was ruined. X let a few
men fuck her while she whimpered over her blistered nipples, but two of
them threatened him until he refunded their money. It was then he
decided to chain her in the bathroom and see how long she could last.

Corinne is lifted and carried. A glass is put to her mouth. Water! She
coughs and spills much of it. Slowly, says the man's voice. Another
glass comes and she is given sips.

She ain't mine anymore, so hurry up and get her out of here!

Corinne is placed on something. Picked up. There's movement, a car, a
trunk closes, the feel of driving. At some point she is awake and aware
the car has stopped and that she can make out a line of rhythmic blue
light on the roof of the trunk. She stares. Is it God? The man is
talking to someone. There's laughter. She's here. The trunk opens. I'll
take care of her. The flashing blue lights are blinding to her with the
trunk open, but Corinne can see him make quotation mark signs with his
fingers when he says Take care. After the trunk closes again there are
two or maybe three voices, and then a sound like a car backfiring.

She passes in and out, dreaming not of God but of glasses of water,
drinking and drinking again but never quenching her thirst, until she
becomes aware that she's drinking real water. She's reclining against
the man, who is holding a glass to her again. Time passes, time of
cool, sweet water such as she's never known, before she understands
she's unbound, and they're in some strange house, and on a bed. He
brings her another glass and murmurs to her while she drinks.

When Corinne is conscious again, and opens her eyes, the man is sitting
beside the bed reading. He has a plate with an apple that has been
sliced into a continuous spiral, that he feeds to her a little at a
time, followed by apple juice so cold it makes her teeth ache. She is
still unbound. 

He places another sliver of apple to her lips.

Corinne awakens to find he is leading her somewhere, to the bath. It is
full. Get in, he says. She knows he will push her under and hold her
there until her lungs are full of water and her struggles almost stop.
Then he will pull her out so she can get some breath and do it again.
Rinse and repeat, X used to say. But he doesn't do it. He washes her
hair and scrubs her tenderly all over, especially tender over her
nipples. It is so gentle she forgets to stay awake, so that he has to
speak to her to keep her from sliding under on her own.

She can't keep from swaying while he dries her. Easy does it. Sit here.
He puts a thick towel on the toilet. Much better, he says, while
combing her hair and using the blow dryer. She nods off again.

Corinne is wearing a plaid, cotton dress. She does not remember
dressing. The man is asking if she wants more of something. He gives
her juice and a small, turkey-cheese sandwich with lettuce and tomato
and pickles. Halfway through eating she finds she has to urinate. When
had she last done that? Does she dare ask him? She can hardly get the
words out: Please, sir. I need to go to the bathroom. 

He smiles at her and says, You can call me Daryl.

Yes sir.

He leads her back to the bathroom. Her urine is dark and burns a
little.

They return to the bedroom. Look over here, he tells her. That's for
you. She sees a walk-in closet with a mattress. You'll have to stay
here awhile. Too many people know about you, and I don't know how much
I can trust you yet.

She looks at it, and at him. It has a comforter. He speaks again. You
look confused. Ask me some questions.

Corinne is tongue tied, but then it comes out. Do I have to go back to
X after you play with me, sir?

It's Daryl.

Yes sir. Will I have to go back to X?

X? Right about now, he's

Daryl looks at a clock. 

he's dead.

Later Corinne rests beside Daryl on the bed, only half awake, while he
reads through some manila folders. They hold typed pages and photos of
men, some of them from the party. Three photos are crossed out in red
marker. One of those is X.

On her mattress, Corinne gathers the comforter around herself. She
still isn't bound. She curls herself so that she can see the narrow
line of light at the bottom of the door. She listens to Daryl move
around the room. She tries to remember every aspect of his face, and
his voice, and how he smelled, and how his hands felt on her. After the
light goes off she falls asleep again, but this time she doesn't dream
of water.

End.


Find H. Jekyll's stories at --http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/h_jekyll/
and 
"Ruthie's Club" -- http://www.ruthiesclub.com/

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