Chapter 3
This isn't a progressive prison. Quite the opposite. They aren't interested in rehabilitation, only punishment. As a result the guards carry a number of different weapons. Non-lethal but still damn effective. And they need to practice with them regularly. Your prescence offers them a unique opportunity to train using a person, rather than manniquins.
You're walked, naked, through the prison and out into the yard. During the walk your slutty fag body is seen by almost everyone. The prisoners taunt you and mock your tiny fucking clit. They promise that if they ever get their hands on you they'll rape you unconscious and cover you in the cum of real men.
Once in the yard you're hand cuffed to the chain link fence. Both wrists and ankles. Spread eagled. You're completely vulnerable. The warm sun offers a small amount of comfort.
The guards explain that they are going to practice their riot suppression techniques on your sissy body, beginning with nightsticks. They already know they can shove them up your boipussy whenever they want so instead they're going to beat you with them. They focus their attention on your titties. They're dying to know if the nice big implants Daddy bought you are as sensitive as real titties. It turns out they are. Repeated blows to your tits rain down. The pain is incredible. Your crying and begging for mercy has no effect on them. The bruising starts to set in immediately. Just when you think you'll pass out from the pain it stops.
The beating only stops because they're moving on to the next weapon, not because they give a damn about your suffering. The guards unholster their tasers and you realize what's in store for you next.
They each take turns shooting the electrified darts into your soft, girly, body and running the electricity through you. You dance and writhe in place. The pain is excruciating and yet your clit is growing. It has a mind of it's own and it's enjoying the humiliation, torture and pain. It knows this is what you crave. What you deserve.
The guards grow bored simply shooting the tasers at you and decide they should hook them directly up to your useless balls and run the electricity into you. The darts are stabbed into your sack and the trigger pulled. Hundreds of volts run through your pathetic balls and throughout your body. Over and over. Your cries only make them laugh. Your begging for mercy only makes them do it more and more. Eventually you lose control and piss yourself prompting howls of laughter. The humiliation makes you blush from head to toe. It also makes your cock start to grow again.
The next weapon to be unleashed is the bean bag shot gun. Bonus points are going to be awarded for anyone who hits your tits and even more points for hitting you in the clit and balls. There's a very brief conversation among the guards about the risk of doing permanent damage but it's quickly decided no one gives a damn. The first two shots hit your tits knocking the wind out of you. The third shot hits your throat making it almost impossible for you to scream anymore. After that each and every shot is aimed at your clit. Round after round smashes into your crotch. Each one feels like being kicked in the balls. Your legs go limp and you're left hanging by your wrists from the fence like a depraved piece of meat.
A bucket of ice cold water splashes over you, snapping you out of your stupor. You can barely feel your clit anymore. Your balls are swollen to the size of oranges.
The next weapon to be used is rubber bullets. They aren't utilized very often on the prisoners because of the damage they can do. No one cares about the damage they'll do to you.
Again, bonus points are available for hitting you in the tits and crotch. This time around the discussion about damage is a bit more serious. It's agreed a direct hit could destroy your balls. The consensus is that if that happens they'll take you to the prison doctor and have him remove your balls completely. They'll turn you into a total fucking eunuch.
The first couple of shots hit your thighs and stomach. the pain rips through you instantly. The swelling and bruising is also instant. As is the perverse enjoyment you're feeling. Your depraved mind has decided you both deserve and enjoy this treatment. As before, your clit starts to grow at the thought.
Inevitably two shots, in quick succession, hit your balls. Your screams can be heard throughout the entire prison before you fall unconscious.
It takes two buckets of ice cold water splashed over your limp body to revive you this time.
The guards examine your almost ruined clit and balls and decide the doctor can, probably, save them.
That being decided they go get the guards that ride horseback and oversee the prisoners working the farm.
Those guards need practice with their whips. They don't get to use them as often as they'd like so practice is always welcome and you're perfect for their needs.
You're unshackled from the fence and turned around, facing it, and reshackled. The two horseback guards flip a coin to see who goes first. The winner uncoils his 8 ft whip and begins swirling it in the air. With a quick flip of his wrist the whip leaps out and bites your ass. Your screams echo across the yard. Another swoosh and the whip crosses your back. Bright red welts form immediately. The burning sensation radiates out across your back. They start coming faster now. Most of them hit your thicc ass, making you dance and quiver and shake and scream. Eventually it becomes so intense you go numb. Your ass is on fire but now you simply accept that this is what you deserve because you're a sissy slut, pain whore.
After what seems like an eternity you're unshackled and turned around again. The bite of the cuffs into your wrists and ankles is inconsequential compared to the pain rushing through your ass and back.
The second guard begins his turn focused on your titties. Your plump, sensitive, titties feel the sting of the tip of the whip. He's incredibly accurate. Hitting your nipples over and over. They all laugh as you cry and beg him to stop. Instead they encourage him. They want to know if he can make you scream even louder.
He's confident he can. He says he doesn't want.to hit your ball because they're really close to being completely destroyed but he's sure can hit your clit.
Turns out he's right
The whip bites into your useless cock over and over.
Your screams carry for miles. As does their laughter. The worst part though, is that throughout the entire whipping, you cock has been seeping cum. And now that they are done they notice it for the first time.
It's then that they realize what they have on their hands.
Chapter 4
The fact that the prison is also a working farm results in some unique opportunities, and challenges, for the men working it.
The farm provides vegetables and meat for the prison.
It also provides sadistic guards with some creative ways to torture sissy sluts.
For example, the guards know your boipussy can take it deep, because they shoved a whole nightstick up your slutty ass, but they got to wondering how fat a zucchini they could stuff in your gaping hole before you passed out or ripped. Turns out the answer is 10 inches before you screamed so loud it could be heard miles away, and then you passed out. What confused them was that you seemed to be enjoying it up to that point.
They also discovered that your useless faggy body could be used to solve practical problems.
The prisoners were running into issues with fire ants in the soil they were working. The guards realized that you could be used as bait.
You were stripped naked, yet again, (At this point it was rare for you to have clothes on at all. Much quicker to rape you if you're already naked) and taken to the farm field. The walk past the prison yard was both humiliating and thrilling for you. So many men wanting to fuck your sweet little holes. Potentially so much cum for you to swallow or be covered by. So many hard cocks for you to suck. All you could ever want. And you wanted them all.
Just before the guards lead you outside the fence they tie your hands behind your back and put a collar around your neck. A rope is passed through the ring on the collar and handed to a guard on horseback. You can feel the hot sun making your big, fat, titties redder and redder.
The horse starts walking forward and you follow along behind. The rider picks up the pace and you have to start running a little to keep up. The heat and the running has you sweating and gasping.
The rider speeds up a bit more and you have to run hard to keep up. The guards in the truck following you, and rider are laughing at the way your clit is bouncing around as you run. They're also laughing at the way your titties are slamming up and down.
Again the rider speeds up. This time you can't keep up, you stumble and fall. They don't stop. You're being dragged through the dirt into the field. The rocks, gravel and dirt are scraping your titties and, especially, your clit. It hurts so good. You feel like an animal and deep down, much to your shame, you're enjoying it.
Just when you think you can't take anymore it stops.
You're in the middle of the field. The fire ant hill is mere feet away.
They flip you over and cut the rope around your wrists. The guards in the truck get out and rummage around in the back of the truck. They pull out four stakes, a length of rope and a hammer.
You lay, gasping, in the hot southern heat. The scrapes all over your body are on fire. Your clit is throbbing, both from the pain, and the shameful pleasure your feeling. Being exposed and used by these strong, cruel men is making you feel more and more like a sissy fucktoy. Completely empty of masculinity.
The guards have pounded the four stakes into the ground around you. Ropes are wrapped around your wrists and ankles and your stretched, spread eagled, as they tie them to the stakes. You're unable to move, except to wiggle a little. Your pathetic attempts at struggle make your clit flop around uselessly which elicits more laughter. They put a burlap bag over your head and tie a rope tightly around your neck to hold it in place.
The guards have been working quickly. They don't want to be swarmed by the ants, that's your role.
One of the guards grabs a long stick and, just for laughs, hits your clit with it, just ot hear you cry out, before heading toward the ant hill.
He begins poking the hill with the stick. The ants come swarming out and all the guards run for the truck. The guard on horseback takes off at a gallop.
The ants don't take long to find you. Crawling over your arms and legs they begin heading toward your scraped clit. Within seconds they've completely cover your useless clit and begin burrowing down into the shaft.
The guards are about a hundred yards away and yet they can hear you screaming, crying, pleading and begging for release. There's no help coming. You're at the mercy of the insects who are beginning to bite your useless cock and push their way into your sissy ass. It's so easy for them to crawl up your boipussy. It's been fucked so often lately it gapes. They march right up you effortlessly.
The intensity of the pain in your clit and ass has distracted you from the dozens of ants devouring your fat, soft titties.
They're everywhere. On you, in you. Using your useless fucking sissy fag body for their needs. As it should be. Your thicc, feminine, slut body exists only for the pleasure of others, and that includes insects.
Because you're a depraved pain slut your clit starts to grow, making it easier for the ants to enter you.
The guards can't believe you're getting hard. They're glad they decided to record the whole spectacle because otherwise no one would believe it. They can't wait to show it to everyone down at the bar.
Right about the time you start to pass out, from the pain and the exhaustion of screaming and crying non stop for almost an hour relief comes.
They need you alive. Damaged is fine but alive. A 2" hose sprays you with a deluge of cold water sending the ants flying. The hose is shoved into your pussy to flush them out. The Icy cold water shoots into your guts with incredible force.
A stick is pushed into the end of your still hard clit to kill the ants inside. The pain of the stick being jammed into your useless cock makes you finally pass out but not before you hear the guards say they can't wait to do this again with different insects.
Chapter 5
The sunlight through the infirmary window wakes you. You're not sure how long you've been there. You feel good though. There's no signs of the ant bites so you figure you've probably been there a few days.
When the nurse comes in you ask her a few questions. Turns out you've been there three days. They kept you sedated and medicated. That didn't stop the guards from occasionally coming in and sodomizing you anyway. Apparently you moaned like a little bitch even though you were almost completely unconscious.
The knowledge that they used your ass for their amusement and pleasure while you slept, without giving a damn if you enjoyed it, filled you with both shame and arousal. You were a human flashlight for three days, for god only knows how many cocks.
You notice that your skin seems softer and smoother. At first you thought it was because of the treatment for the ant bites. You ask the nurse about it. She says, no, they have, in fact, been pumping you full of hormones. She says she's never seen doses that large before. You lift the sheet and look at your cock. To your shock, surprise and shame it's even smaller than before. So are your balls.
You drift off back to sleep feeling more like a girl than ever before.
Chapter 6
Your recovery is progressing nicely after the ant torture. You've been given a break for a week.
The break consisted of only having to suck every cock put in front of you (dozens and dozens) and being fucked repeatedly, all day and night. Usually one at time but occasionally being gang banged. 6 or 8 cocks filling your boipussy with their hot cum. So much cum it would still be leaking out of you hours later.
It's pointless for you to put clothes on most of the time. When you are allowed clothes they are femmy as possible. Short skirts, crop tops that don't really contain your fat titties, garters and stocking and nothing else. Essentially, they dress you like a sissy slut whore.
At this point you're not even sure you remember your own name. You've been called everything but. Fucktoy, cumdump, meat puppet, whore, slut, faggot, sissy, girl, fuckface, useless, pain pig, ant girl, and a bunch more.
It's reached the point where you don't feel right if you're not sticky from cum or your boipussy is empty. It's come to feel completely natural to be impaled on a real man's cock.
Chapter 7
There's a problem down in the barns. One of the stallions is in heat and there's no mare to breed him to. It will be at least two weeks before they can get a mare in to breed with him. He's become damn near unrideable.
The guards have been discussing it and you're the solution. It's even decided that you are going to suck the stallion off. Some of the guards wanted to let it fuck you but.others were concerned it might destroy you. Not that they give a damn about you. They don't. They just want to keep you alive so they can continue to torture and use you. You're a slutty, depraved, amusement for them.
You're marched down to the barn. Almost every guard on staff has come along to watch and record the perverted spectacle. This is filling you with mixed emotions. It's completely humiliating to be forced to serve the sexual needs of an animal in front of a large crowd of people. On the other hand it's a dream come true to serve the sexual needs of an animal in front of a large crowd of people.
The stallion is walked out into the corral so that the guards will have a good view of your depraved cock sucking. They weren't kidding when they said he was horny. His cock is already getting hard and you haven't even touched it yet.
You drop to your knees beside the stallion and tentatively reach out for his growing cock. It's already 18 inches long and it's only half hard. Stroking it makes it grow quickly to its full 3 foot length. It's beautiful.
The guards are growing impatient. They're yelling for you to quit screwing around and start sucking.
You pull the massive cock to your lips and kiss it. Swirling your tongue around the tip produces pre-cum and the horse starts to settle. You stretch your mouth wide to take as much of the massive head as you can into your slutty mouth. To the surprise of the crowd you can get it in your mouth. Sucking as much as you can, tasting the musk, feeling the heat, hearing the guards calling you filthy names is all combining to turn you on. To your shame, and the amusement and disgust of the guards, your clit starts to grow.
A few more minutes of worshipping the big animals cock and you can start to feel it throb. No one has told you if you're supposed to swallow the cum. You decide that if you're going to be the best, most depraved piece of fuck meat you can possibly be, you should swallow.
With a loud grunt the horse begins to cum. So much hot cum gushes into your mouth. Too much to swallow. It shoots out of your mouth, out your nose an all over your tits. Sputtering, coughing and gagging, on your knees, in the dirt, covered in horse cum, in front of a crowd, you lose control and begin to cum too.
The guards howl with laughter and heap verbal abuse on you.
All you can do is hang your head in shame. And pure, perverted, satisfaction.
Chapter 8
You awaken the next morning, still flush with excitement and shame from yesterday's bestiality show.
The memory of your depravity, and the unbridled lust and perversion, makes your cock start to grow again.
You sucked off a horse in front of a large crowd. You savored its cum in your mouth. Your tits were coated in his hot, sticky jism.
Rather than being repulsed you realize you want more.
Unfortunately for you, today's plans don't include the animals.
There's a section of farm land that isn't draining properly and has become swampy. The prisoners don't want to go in and drain the water because it's full of leeches. That's where you come in.
The guards could bait the leeches with fresh pork but why waste good meat when they can use you.
Once again you're marched, naked through the prison and out to the road to the farm. The name calling and abuse as you pass the prisoners is as vile as ever. Rape threats, humiliating comments about your pathetic little cock, reminders that you are definitely not a man anymore. You're a faggy little sex slave for an entire prison and the people who run it.
As you walk through the fields with the guards, toward the swamp the hot sun beats down on your naked body. It occurs to you, and makes you blush, that you don't have to worry about tan lines.
As you approach the swamp you realize it's bigger than you imagined. There's got to be hundreds of leeches in it.
The guards tie your hands behind your back and order you to start walking into the water. You hesitate momentarily. The slash of a whip across your back gets you moving quickly.
Too quickly. You lose your footing in the thick mud, stumble and fall face first into the water.
Your struggles to turn over roil the water and stir up the mud, releasing the leeches and other bugs living there.
The guards yell at you to get further into the water and to get on your back with your legs spread. This time when you hesitate a rubber bullet is shot at you, hitting you square in the ass. The pain is excruciating and the swelling starts immediately. But you move.
You wade into the water and find a spot where you can submerge your body and still keep your head above water.
It only takes a couple of minutes for the leeches to find you.
At first it tickles as they begin to crawl over your naked, slutty, body.
Then they start to latch on. Initially it's on your thighs and stomach. Then it's your arms and tits.
Eventually they find your cock and your boipussy.
As the first one starts slithering up your cunt you realize they're not just going to use you externally. With your hands tied behind.your back there's no way for you to protect yourself.
There are a least a dozen on your titties. Biting and sucking on your nipples, areola, and soft tit meat.
You've lost track of how many have slipped inside your cunt. You can feel them working their way deep inside you. There's so many it feels like a cock. A live wriggling, biting, cock working deeper and deeper into you.
The assault on your cock distracts you from the damage being done to your boipussy.
At least three of them have worked their way into your urethra and have latched on. The pain is unbelievable and your screams and pleas for mercy echo across the swamp. All it gets is laughter and mocking from the guards. They remind you that you're nothing but meat and this is what meat gets used for.
For three long hours you lay in the water, a fucking plaything for insects. The heat and the loss of blood start to take a toll. Your head is getting light. It's about then that you realize that this is your destiny. A sex slave for vicious perverts. Rape meat for horny prisoners. A fucktoy for an entire barnyard full of animals. A piece of meat, so depraved and filthy that being sexually abused by insects, letting them destroy your ass and pathetic sissy cock, feels right.

Eve’s Cell
Eve woke up after a short time of sleep, for her existed no differences anymore between day or night. The room was lighted by a twilight, the source of the light invisible above her. She was laying on her side on a bed made of concrete, only covered by a plastic mattress, it was dirty, even when she entered the cell long ago, and she could smell the odor of the last prisoner who had rested here. Now her body excretions had covered it even more. Carefully positioning her body upright, she seated slowly up. She was a little cold, because she was completely nude, exposed to humid and mild-temperatured environment of the dungeon. When she was imprisoned long ago, she was forced to strip and never received any sort of clothes anymore.
But she was not completely bare: Shackles, chains and rings were fixed on her body. First there was a steel belt on her waist, containing various rings and eyebolts around it's circumference. Her slender wrists were also shackled, the hands were joined in front of her body, each wrist circled by a bright metal cuff, pressing firmly in the skin, the cuffs were joined by a metal bar, with a short chain which was fixed at the belt. So her hands were hold in the same position the whole time. She had no chance to move them up or down. Also her thumbs had been fixed together by cuffs, covering half of each finger, the cuffs were welded together, so she has not possibility to move them. She moves her hands and fingers a little bit, they are swollen, cold and numb, and the pain begins to pass trough them. She feels the constant pressure of the hard metal into her tortured skin. Looking down on her legs, she notices her ankles, which were locked in the same way, lying side by side, a bride shackle running around each ankle. From between her feet, a longer chain is running down to the floor, connecting to an eyebolt in the center of it. She moved her feet up and down, it was difficult, because also her big toes were joined, like her thumbs, swollen and numb.
When she moved her upper body, she noticed the weight of the small chain which connected her nipple rings. When she was brought in the dungeon, they pierced her nipples, with really huge needles and then fixed the rings there, each one shining clearly and with a reasonable weight. After attaching the chain between them, every movement of her body is transmitted directly to her nipples, which were erect and hard most of the time. They had grown up, meanwhile her breast had got smaller because of the weight loss.
After sitting up she moved her hands and feet more and more. They are cold and numb in her so-called morning, she has to reanimate them. When they had closed the small and very tight shackles around her wrists and ankles them, by welding, it had been necessary to press the metal firmly together. After a while, the skin was bruised by the constant pressure, and circular wounds developed. Her hands and feet began to swell on, the shackles were cutting even more in the skin, and she lived very painful days. But after a while, the situation got better, now the intense swelling had gone, and the pain was bearable. At the borders of the cuffs, the bruised skin is covered with crusts and old blood.
Then she stood up upon her feet and the pain at her ankles got worse and she moaned. She looked down at her slim legs, her once slender and now swollen ankles, and her slightly swollen and blueish feet. She moves up and down on her toes, cautiously, feeling the throbbing of the hard metal on the bones and tendons of her ankles. What a feeling! She wore these shackles since a long time, it must be years, and will do it for the rest of her life. She imagined that there must be more cells und other prisoners, shackled the same way like her. This idea excited her a little bit. Sliding slowly on her soles, straining against the weight of her chains and against the pain, Amber moved to the other wall of her cell. She did not know how long she has been imprisoned in this dungeon, but it mattered little. She was not sentenced, and was not counting her days. She would spend the rest of her life in this cell. Her shackles and the waist belt had no locks, they had been welded on to her body long ago. She has not seen her jailors since she was locked into her cell long ago- food and water is dropped from a chute into a basin in the side of her cell. She had to eat and drink like an animal, bending her body forward.Dragging her ankle chain, connected to the center of her prison, she does her daily, slow lap around and around the cell. It was the only exercise she got, and the only way to fend off the decease of her body.
After a number of laps, finally squatted down against the back, stone, moist wall of the cell. Extending her legs, she stared down at her feet. She always has been proud of them, slender and elegant feet with long toes. Now, they have changed their aspect, her ankles swollen and covered with the scaring crusts. What a torture! She slowly raised her bare feet, higher and higher, until the sudden jerk of the chain restricted any further freedom. Tears started falling from her eyes. She furiously pulled on her wrists, before jerking them up against the chains repeatedly. She sobbed and cried in frustration, her struggle was in vain, there were no chance to get free. Still crying, she returned to her bed of straw in the corner of the cell. Her wrists and ankles are on fire now, hurting like hell. Blood is running down from crusts which have been broken. From now on she avoided any movement of her body. The cold was coming back slowly, also the numbness, beginning in her fingers and toes. Later her hands and feet would feel like being frozen. If she started to move them, the pain will come backYears and years from now, she would still be locked in this dungeon forever chained and shackled, never to see freedom.

Maggie's imprisonment Part II

The went down many stairs to an area that was lit by electric lights. Then they went through a doorway and went down another set of stairs to an area that no electric lights at all. The only light came from a torch in the hand of one of the men.     They went down a long flight of stairs and ended up in a long hall way with doors lining both sides. They took her to one of the doors and threw the door open. "Welcome to your cell, Maggie," one of the men said.    Although Maggie's cell was completely devoid of light, she had gotten a very good look at it when she had first been chained up. The room was about 3 meters deep and about 2 meters wide. The ceiling was about 3 meters high. There were no windows at all and the only door to the cell was made of solid iron. The walls were made of large stone blocks, held together with old mortar. There were no modern conveniences in the cell. No electric lights, no running water, no toilet. There were no creature comforts either. No bed, no chair, not even a pile of straw to lay on.
The one thing the cell did possess was shackles. Four heavy and shining shackles to be exact. Two shackles hung from the upper part of the wall opposite the cell door, they were passed through huge metal rings, which were fixed in it. The shackles were separated in this way for app. 60 cm. Two other shackles were attached at the lower part of the wall, their chain passed only through one ring. The shackles were opened, with a joint at the side of the connection to the chain. They positioned Maggie directly beneath the shackles, her back to the wall.    
Then they uncuffed her wrists, they were hurting after being mistreated the whole time. The skin was bruised and swollen. Maggie's right arm was raised to the dangling shackle pulling it down, until the other shackle hit the metal ring with out loud clanking sound. They wrapped the metal shackle around her wrist, and pressed it firmly together. It closed with a clicking sound and fitted tightly around her narrow wrists, pressing firmly in the bruised skin there.     Maggie looked at her slightly upraised arm. She saw the shackle locked around her wrist. As the men walked to her left side, she gently shook her raised arm.     The iron chain rattled gently in response.     Suddenly the movement of her left arm brought her attention to her left. It was raised over her head to the other shackle which was pulled down. The rings were fixed very high und the shackle’s chain was short, show she was lifted up to stand on her forefeet. She watched with sick fascination as the shackle was locked down around the left wrist. It was just as tight as the right shackle was. The sounding of its closing mechanism was clearly audible for everyone.     Maggie was standing on her forefeet like the letter Y with her arms chained in the air. She looked at her upraised arms one last time and she became aware of the captors kneeling in front of her. She heard the shackles at her feet moving and she looked down. They uncuffed her ankles, then took one shackle, wrapped it around her right ankle and locked it the same way like the others. This ankle shackle was even tighter than the wrist shackles, pressing ugly in the damaged skin. It hurt like hell, and she began to tremble. She noted that there was an obvious distance between the last open shackle and her left ankle that still was free. When they pulled this shackle down, the locked shackle started to torture her right ankle severely and she had to lift herself upon her toes. Only now the men were able to lock also the last shackle.
They had finished their work, they lifted up and went back. They seemed to be satisfied with the results. Maggie was moaning intensely, because her body stretched and the tight shackles biting in her wrists and ankles.
One of the men said: “These shackles are really tight, aren’t they? Well, that’s the way all the prisoners here are treated. You will get used of them after a while. The locks are closed permanently, so you won’t never get free again.Maggie understood now what has happened: These strangers have fixed her body at this wall in this nasty cell in a painful way, she never won’t be able to get free by herself and no one will find her here down in this hidden dungeon. This was insane! She started to scream until one of the men hit her in her face. Then she felt in silence. In her head a strange mood emerged, it seemed that she separated her mind from her body.
    Maggie closed her eyes, expecting to feel something. Anything. Maybe he was about to place a blindfold over her eyes. Maybe he was about to inflict some type of painful stimulus. But there was nothing but the sound of the door closing behind her. Maggie opened her eyes to look, but with the torch gone from the room, she truly realized how totally dark the cell was. Undeterred, Maggie tried to look behind her best she could, but with absolutely no light in the room, she saw nothing.     Although she could see nothing, she could still hear. She heard the sound of the iron door closing behind her. She heard the sound of a deadbolt lock being thrown closed. Then she heard the sound of a large sliding lock being engaged. Finally, she heard was could only the sound of a large iron bar being lowered over the door.    Three locks made certain that the door would never open from the inside.    Then there was nothing but silence in the cell.    And that was it. Maggie was chained up. A 21st century woman chained in a 13th century dungeon cell. These huge shackles around Maggie's wrists and ankles held onto Maggie just as tightly today as they had done for years. Times and technology may have changed, but the shackles were just as effective on Maggie as they had been on girls in days gone by. He whole body was stretched by standing on her toes.
    Maggie would experience three phases of captivity during these first twenty hours.  The first phase began only a few seconds after the door was closed. Once Maggie realized she was alone, naked, and chained in a room that there was no way she could leave, pure terror overcame her and she began screaming.     She screamed at the top of her lungs. She screamed for help. She screamed obscenities. She screamed out all manners of words. She screamed out noises. She shook the chains that kept her arms stretched up. She shook the chains that kept her legs shackled to the floor. She shook them with all the strength that she had. She screamed out pleas for help. She screamed out curses and threats. She literally screamed until she totally lost her voice. Every inch of her naked body became covered in sweat as she exerted all of her strength in an attempt to break her bonds. Her mussels began to cramp, especially in the calves.    That was the first hour of her captivity. A panic attack. A mental breakdown.    Absolute. Terror.    Her voice now silenced, the second phase began: crying. Silent tears fell as she first thought about her three children and her husband. She thought of friends and family members and coworkers. She thought of the Disney vacation the family had taken last year and how they had plans to save up enough money to go in another 3 years. She thought of her pet cat. She wondered if her family knew she was missing. She wondered if the police were searching for her. She wondered again where she was.    Tears flowed unobstructed, as her shackled hands made it impossible for her to wipe them away. Mucus began flowing from her nose. Salty tears didn't stop for three hours. That was the second phase.    The third phase was silence. She had no strength to shake her bonds. She had no voice to make noise. She had no more tears to weep. She stood there and thought about her predicament. She had no idea what the future had in store for her, but she figured it was bleak.     After 20 hours standing in chains, Maggie was exhausted, sore, aching. Maggie was defeated.     There was no way she could ever escape the cell, even if she could somehow remove the shackles that secured her hands high over her head and her bare feet to the wall. Her shoulders ached intensely, her hands and feet feel cold and numb now, there must be swollen. Her struggling against the shackles have damaged the skin at her wrists and ankles, because every movement of her hands and feet, including of her fingers and toes, is really painful. How long can she stand this? And what will happen if she remains shackled like this for the rest of her life.
There was absolute silence in the cell as Maggie held her breath and listened. She couldn't hear anything outside of her cell. For all she knew there was no world outside of the dungeon. There was just her, waiting, chained in Maggie's cell.

I need this play as clip so badly or someone can roleplay with me this story. Anyone?

Play: The Knife-to-the-Heart execution
Alternating Perspectives: Me and Her
Scene 0: Conversation in the Cell Before Execution
A small cell is illuminated by the cold, flickering white neon light on the ceiling. The chilly concrete walls are covered with scratches from previous prisoners. She sits on an old wooden bench with tattered edges, her thin, worn green prisoner’s uniform clinging to her body, damp with sweat. I stand in front of the iron door, my fists clenched so tightly my knuckles turn white, my eyes filled with pain and longing I try to hide.

Me:
(In my mind)
I look at her. Her fragile frame brims with life. I lean down slowly, pressing my ear to her chest. Her heartbeat echoes "thump-thump... thump-thump..." clearly in the silence, steady yet tense at around 90 beats per minute. It’s so strong, the contractions firm as if it could keep beating for years. I want to tell her she shouldn’t have to end like this, but the truth is too cruel.
(Speaking aloud, voice trembling)
"In a few minutes, they’ll take you away. I want to spend as much time with you as I can, but I have to tell you what’s about to happen first. Your heartbeat... it’s so strong, you know? The contractions are firm and steady. It could beat for so much longer..."

Her:
(In her mind)
I sit on the cold, old wooden bench. My heart beats "thump-thump... thump-thump..." in my chest as you lean closer. I feel your warm breath against my skin, warming me amidst the fear. But I know... the heart you call strong is about to stop soon.
(Speaking aloud, voice shaky)
"It’s really time, isn’t it? Tell me. I want to know... I want to hear it from you. Even if my heart is strong... it won’t last much longer. Soon it’ll stop, and I’ll finally rest."
I take a deep breath, placing a small wooden box containing clothes and a white cloth on the bench beside her. My hands tremble slightly as I pick up a white undergarment, my fingers brushing the fabric lightly.

Me:
(In my mind)
I don’t want to say it at all, but I have to. I want her to have some control before it all ends.
(Speaking aloud)
"The execution method... They told me to explain it to you and let you choose. There are two options. The first is an injection. You’ll lie on a bed, I’ll inject the lethal injection into your veins, and you’ll fall asleep quietly, without pain. Your body will gradually shut down, like a nightmare ending. The second is strangulation with a cloth... It’s slower. You’ll feel it, feel me, until the very last moment. As for clothes... you need to change out of this prisoner’s uniform. I have a simple white undergarment, soft and thin, or a thin black robe that covers more of your body. I want you to choose... at least so you feel you have something in your hands before it’s all over."

Her:
(In her mind)
I stare at the box with empty eyes. My heart beats "thump-thump..." a little slower as I think. The injection would let me go quietly, but I don’t want to leave you without feeling anything. I want to stay with you longer, even if it hurts. I want to feel you.
(Speaking aloud, taking a deep breath)
"If it’s the injection, I won’t feel anything, right? It’ll be quick... but I won’t really get to say goodbye to you. But with the cloth... I’ll stay with you longer... I’ll feel you until the last second, won’t I?"

Me:
(In my mind)
Her question pierces my heart. I nod, tears welling up. She’s accepted her death, but I can’t come to terms with it.
(Speaking aloud)
"Yes... If it’s the cloth, you’ll stay conscious for a while. I’ll be with you every second. I’ll make you feel me... even though it has to end."

Her:
(In her mind)
I give a faint smile, tears streaming down my cheeks. I’ve decided. I want to feel you, even if it’s the last time.
(Speaking aloud)
"Then I choose the cloth strangulation... I want to feel you until the very end. I don’t want to leave without feeling anything. As for the clothes... I’ll take the white undergarment. I want it to be simple... and if you have to see me for the last time, I want it to be like this—plain, but me."

Me:
(In my mind)
My tears drip onto the floor. She’s made her choice... I take the white undergarment from the box, my hands brushing the fabric lightly. I long to stop time right here.
(Speaking aloud, voice trembling)
"Are you sure? It won’t be easy—for you or for me. But I’ll make it as gentle as I can. I’ll be with you... and I’ll make you happy before it all ends."

Her:
(In her mind)
I gently take your hand. My heart beats "thump-thump-thump-thump..." faster, reaching 100 beats per minute. The warmth from your palm seeps into me. I want to hug you tightly, but I know we have to move forward.
(Speaking aloud)
"Thank you for letting me choose. I trust you. Do it for me, please. I want it to be you... not anyone else."

I help her change, my hands touching her skin tenderly. I slowly remove her old prisoner’s uniform and slip the white undergarment onto her. My fingers tremble as I adjust the edges.
Scene 1: Leading to the Execution and the Start of Pleasure
Me:
(In my mind)
I hold her hand gently, leading her from the cell to the execution chamber. My hand wraps around her wrist as if afraid she’ll vanish. The narrow hallway is frigid, our footsteps echoing in the silence. The execution room is dim, lit only by a faint overhead lamp casting light onto an old wooden chair. I guide her to sit slowly. Her white undergarment bears faint sweat stains. I lean down, pressing my ear to her chest. Her heartbeat rings out "thump-thump... thump-thump..." clearly, strong and steady at about 100 beats per minute. It’s still so alive... if only it weren’t today.
(Speaking aloud)
"I don’t want you to go... but if you must, I’ll make you happy until the last moment. I’ll do it as gently as I can."

Her:
(In my mind)
I feel your hand around my wrist, warm and steady amidst the cold. My heart beats "thump-thump... thump-thump..." at around 100 beats per minute. Fear creeps in, but having you beside me calms me somewhat. You sit me down, the cold wood against my skin. I feel your breath on my chest again, my heart pounding louder in my chest.
(Speaking aloud, breathing quickly)
"You... I’m scared... but I want to feel you. Do it... I’m ready."
I pick up a long white cloth from the table beside us, draping it around her neck lightly. My fingers brush the skin at the nape of her neck slowly.

Me:
(In my mind)
I loop the cloth around her neck. Her heart speeds up to "thump-thump-thump-thump..." at 120 beats per minute, rapid and forceful. I gently pull her undergarment halfway down, exposing her trembling skin under the dim light. She moans "Ah..." as my fingers touch her sensitive spot. Her heartbeat rings clear in my ear.
(Speaking aloud)
"Do you feel good... I want you to feel me. I’ll make you happy."

Her:
(In her mind)
I feel the cloth around my neck, but your gentleness keeps me from being afraid. My heart beats "thump-thump-thump-thump..." at 120 beats per minute. You pull my undergarment down, my skin quivering in the cold air. I moan "Ah..." as you touch me. You enter in me gently, and my heart surges to "thump-thump-thump-thump..." at 140 beats per minute. Pleasure floods my body, washing away the fear.
(Speaking aloud)
"I feel you... Ah... It’s good..."
Scene 2: Heightened Pleasure with Strangulation

Me:
(In my mind)
I gradually quicken my movements, every touch filled with longing. I tighten the cloth slightly, my hands trembling. I lean down, pressing my ear to her chest. Her heartbeat pounds "thump-thump-thump-thump..." fast and heavy at 160 beats per minute, barely pausing. She moans "Ah... You!" Her body trembles and tenses. She reaches climax with an "Ah!" I feel the heat peak, and I release inside her. My warmth flows into her. Her heart still beats "thump-thump-thump-thump..." at 150 beats per minute.
(Speaking aloud)
"Are you happy... I want you to feel me to the fullest. I long for you so much..."

Her:
(In her mind)
You quicken your pace, and I feel your love in every movement. My heart beats "thump-thump-thump-thump..." at 160 beats per minute, loud enough to burst. I moan "Ah... You!" Pleasure surges to its peak, and I climax with an "Ah!" Then I feel your heat—your warmth flowing into me. My heart slows to "thump-thump-thump-thump..." at 150 beats per minute, still brimming with life.
(Speaking aloud, struggling to breathe)
"I feel your love flowing into me... Ah... It’s warm and full of you. Today’s my fertile day... I’d surely conceive from this, I can feel it from what you’ve given me. But... it’s a shame I won’t get to see it..."
I tighten the cloth a bit more, my hand brushing her shoulder gently. Her heart slows to "thump... thump... thump... thump..." at 130 beats per minute.
Scene 3: Farewell Amidst Pleasure

Her:
(In her mind)
You slow your movements, but I still feel your warmth. My heart beats "thump... thump... thump... thump..." at 110 beats per minute. It’s slowing but still trying to keep going. I look at you, tears welling up, my vision starting to blur.
(Speaking aloud, whispering with difficulty)
"If I didn’t have to die, I’d surely be pregnant from this... But... there’s no chance now..."

Me:
(In my mind)
I slow down. Her heart beats "thump... thump... thump... thump..." at 110 beats per minute, the rhythm slowing but determined. My tears fall. She speaks of a child we’ll never see. I long to stop everything. I place my left hand on her left chest, fingers brushing her warm, sweat-damp skin. I press lightly to find the spot where her heart beats strongest. Beneath my palm, I feel the firm contraction "thump... thump..." so clear. I pick up a short knife from the table beside us, gripping the handle tightly with my right hand. The sharp tip glints in the dim light. I position it at that spot, just below her third rib on the left, barely touching her skin, not pressing yet. Her heart still beats "thump... thump..." with resolve.
(Speaking aloud, whispering)
"If it were real, I’d love it as much as I love you. I long for the life we could’ve had together. But now... I’m sorry it has to end like this. Do you feel the knife... I’ll set you free. I promise."

Her:
(In her mind)
I give a faint smile, tears rolling down my cheeks. I feel your love in those words. My heart beats "thump... thump..." at 90 beats per minute. It’s tired, but I still want to tell you. I feel the cold tip of the knife against my skin. Fear flashes through me, but I’m glad... you’ll free me from this torment. My heart slows but keeps fighting.
(Speaking aloud)
"I love you... Find the truth for me... Remember me... I feel it now. You’ll set me free, won’t you..."

Me:
(In my mind)
I lean down and kiss her forehead. Her heart beats "thump... thump..." at 90 beats per minute, the rhythm weakening. I want her to know I’ll never forget her. The knife’s tip remains poised, my hand trembling slightly, but I’m resolute.
(Speaking aloud)
"I love you... I’ll find the truth. You’ll always be in my heart. I’ll never forget you. I’ll give you one last moment of happiness, then set you free."
Scene 4: Ultimate Pleasure Before Departure

Me:
(In my mind)
I quicken my movements again to give her maximum pleasure. My left hand presses against her chest, the knife’s tip steady at the same spot below her third rib on the left. Her heart surges momentarily to "thump-thump-thump-thump..." at 120 beats per minute, contracting powerfully as if unleashing its final burst of energy. She moans "Ah... You!" Her body tenses, her arms wrapping around my neck, gripping me tightly until I feel the pressure of her fingers digging into my skin. Pleasure overwhelms her, almost spilling over. At the peak of her final climax, I release the cloth from her neck instantly, letting her breathe deeply. I thrust the knife down with full strength. The blade slices through her skin and muscle, plunging deep into her chest, piercing her heart directly between its two chambers. Bright red blood spurts out immediately, streaming over her white undergarment and staining my hands. I feel the resistance of her beating heart as the knife cuts through—it still contracts "thump-thump..." at 100 beats per minute, fueled by excitement and pleasure. Her heart fights the wound, blood seeping out with every beat. I feel her intense response, her body trembling. Her heart slows to "thump... thump..." at 80 beats per minute, the contractions heavy and sluggish. Her grip begins to loosen, her fingers easing from my skin. The sound becomes "thump...... thump..." at 60 beats per minute, the rhythm faltering. Her consciousness fades, but she smiles broadly as if in a pleasant dream. Her heart drops to "thump......... thump......" at 40 beats per minute, the contractions visibly weakening. Her arms fall from my neck, resting on my shoulders as if reluctant to let go. I quicken my pace to climax with her. Her heart beats faintly "thump......" one last time, a heavy, prolonged contraction as if fighting its final battle but succumbing. I release inside her again, my warmth mingling with the blood flowing out. Her body clenches tightly around me in a fierce, involuntary reaction despite her unconsciousness. Her heart stops completely at 0 beats per minute.
(Speaking aloud, breathing heavily)

"Your final 'thump' was full of happiness and effort. I felt that strong, weary contraction. Your heart fought until the end. I’ve set you free... and I felt you fully in this moment."

Her:
(In her mind)
You quicken your pace, and my heart surges to "thump-thump-thump-thump..." at 120 beats per minute, contracting powerfully as if releasing its last energy. I moan "Ah... You!" My body tenses, my arms wrapping around your neck, fingers digging into your skin as pleasure overwhelms me. You release the cloth, and I breathe deeply, savoring the thrill. Then I feel the knife plunge in—a sudden pain mixed with fear, but I’m glad... you’re freeing me. Warm blood flows from my chest. My heart beats "thump-thump..." at 100 beats per minute, struggling against the wound, still alive with happiness and excitement. It slows to "thump... thump..." at 80 beats per minute, heavy and slow. My grip weakens, fingers relaxing. The sound fades to "thump...... thump..." at 60 beats per minute, the rhythm breaking. My consciousness blurs, but I smile widely. My heart drops to "thump......... thump......" at 40 beats per minute, beating so faintly it’s nearly gone. My arms fall, and you quicken again. I feel your heat as you release inside me. My heart gives one last "thump......" a firm, lingering contraction as if leaving everything behind. I lose consciousness, but my body clenches around you fiercely. My spirit senses this happiness even as my heart stops.
(Speaking aloud, whispering with difficulty)
"I felt the knife... and the happiness... Thank you for setting me free..."
Scene 5: Departure and Beyond-Life Reaction

Me:
(In my mind)
Her heart is silent. I pull the knife out, blood trickling from the wound in her chest in thin streams. I move inside her slowly, her body twitching faintly from nerve reflexes. Her muscles clench around me in a beyond-life reaction. Her warmth fades gradually. I withdraw, setting the knife aside. Tears stream down my face as I lean down to embrace her body. I place my hand on her left chest again—the wound still oozes blood. I press lightly, searching for a heartbeat, but there’s nothing... no "thump-thump" anymore. I press my ear to her chest, the silence tearing at my heart. I stroke her arm, hoping for a breath. I check her wrist for a pulse, but there’s no sign of life. Her body is utterly still. I long for her to come back.
(Speaking aloud, whispering through tears)
"You... Your heart’s stopped. That final 'thump' still echoes in my ears. It was strong and full of life before I set you free. Your body held me for a moment, muscles clenching around me, then slowly relaxing... Your warmth is fading. I know you’re gone, but I hoped you’d still be here. Time of death: 18:45... I checked everything—no signs of life. I long for you so much it breaks me... I’ll never forget you, not for a second."

Her:
(In her mind)
I feel lighter and lighter. My body twitches faintly. I sense you still inside me briefly, your warmth lingering as I grow cold. My spirit drifts from my body. I look down and see you holding me, your face buried in my chest, tears flowing endlessly. I watch you check my body—pressing my chest, stroking my arm, feeling my wrist. You hope I’m still alive. I want to tell you I’m okay now. I float closer, trying to touch your shoulder, but I have no form. I say, "You... You did your best. I was truly happy. You freed me from torment. I felt love and joy until the last moment. My body responded to you even after I left. I’m not in pain or afraid anymore. I’ll always be in your heart. Don’t blame yourself..." But you can’t hear me. A light pulls me away. I smile at you one last time, whispering, "Thank you... and goodbye..." Then I’m gone.

So, Motherless weirdos, I made my girlfriend drink my piss tonight. And I don't mean I pressured her into it.

I've always had a piss fetish. I know I'm fucked up, but until this point in my life, it's always just been porn on my computer, tucked away in hidden folders that no one's ever found. I've also got a thing for abusive and degrading porn. Frankly, the hottest porn to me is when the girl clearly doesn't want to be doing it, but goes through with it anyway.

Well me and my girlfriend have been fighting all week. Absolutely no reason, she's just being a raging bitch about every tiny little thing. Everything's a big drama storm for no reason. Today was the same way. Just bitching constantly for no reason, and this night it turned into a screaming match. And then she started slapping me, and I wound up slapping her back. we were just shoving at each other for a minute, but I absolutely lost it, and I saw nothing but red. I wanted to fucking hurt and humiliate her.
So I slapped her again, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her into the bathroom, and shoved her into the tub until she was laying flat on her back. I got in and pinned her under me, kneeling over her chest with her arms at her side, and pulled out my dick and started pissing in her face. She reacted about how you'd expect, with a 'wtf' cringing and struggling. So I slapped her again, hard. And again. and told her to open her mouth, and when she didn't, I slapped her again, even harder, and she did. I started pissing into her mouth again, and she closed it and cringed away, so I slapped her AGAIN, just about as hard as I could, and told her to open her fucking mouth. I told her to swallow when I started pissing again, and reared up like I was going to slap her again while I pissed. She swallowed it all until I was done.

At this point, I figure, I'm allready going to prison right? I lost my temper, and that was that, I was done. But since I'm about as turned on as I'd ever been, I figure I might as well enjoy this scene while I'm there, her hair and face wet with piss, slapped beat red, and crying.

So I jerked off onto her face. It took me a minute too, and she just stared at me, crying, until i came all over her. Then I pushed the cum into her mouth, and she swallowed without me having to tell her too.

And then I left. Went out, changed my pants, sat on the couch, and just sat quietly, waiting for her to get up the courage to get out of that tub and go call the cops. I wouldn't have stopped her.

Instead, I heard the bathroom door shut, and the shower start up. I thought she was killing herself. It crossed my mind to intervene, but self-preservation made me let it take its course.

She didn't kill herself though. The shower stopped, and she came out in her bath robe, hot pink (the shower must have been very hot) and her face still puffy from crying/eyes red and swollen. This is where it gets surreal, to me at least. She comes over in her robe, and curls up at my side quietly, laying across the couch, like I DIDN'T just beat the shit out of her and use her as a toilet. She starts stroking her fingers across my back, and says really quietly "I'm sorry I was such a bitch today...you know I love you" I honestly had no idea how to react. I just reached down and stroked her arm while she stroked my back. After a few minutes of quiet, she climbed over and started kissing my dick, sucked me for a minute, and then climbed on top of me. We had sex three times, good sex too. She's in bed right now like nothing happened.

Where the fuck do I go from here? This is like some fucked up dream where nothing makes sense.