The screens showed forty-six centimetres – over eighteen inches! Kate was maximally sodomised by the pole. The wire was now just used to stretch her breast up for pain, so the main part of her body weight was held by the friction between the pole and her intestines. The post’s rounded tip pressed through the distorted entrails against her diaphragm, making the breathing even harder. Through a red fog of agony she realised how deeply she was impaled and this shock unleashed an inhuman, insane howl. The crowed cheered like mad and Grand Mistress Gillian had to wait long moments until She could begin to speak again. “That was nice, wasn’t it?
” The asking of this question was a mistake. Almost a minute of new, exuberant cheers passed. “Shut up, You perverts!” the Grand Mistress mocked. Boisterous laughter. “If You have liked that, then wait for our little ‘Fuck The Pole’- contest.” The public was highly pleased as the pulley tightened up the wire and lifted the frantic slave.
Kate rose some inches, then the wire got slack and she sank down again. This entertaining horror show was repeated a few times. In fact Kate wasn’t yet gliding up and down the pole and the pole wasn’t yet sliding in and out of her. Her “outer” body moved, but great parts of her intestines were clung to the post. Her anal ring was so tight around the wood that it first seemed to stay and be ripped away from the flesh. But then it rolled over the wooden shaft so the first centimetres of her rectal tract were turned inside out. At the reversed motion the bloody-pink lining seemed to be stuffed and sucked in again.
While bouncing on the disgraceful shaft, Kate had started anew to struggle. Her useless legs were thrashing and throbbing against the pole, then clutching it in vain. But barbed wire and gravity were vile enemies, the metal breast-bondage was now working almost an inch in the woman’s firm meat. By now, the blood lost took its toll and the effort of the tormented slave weakened rapidly. Soon no stimulant in the world would make her scream again. Grand Mistress Gillian enjoyed Kate’s performance, watching her sexy little dance of pain. She thought about increasing the amplitude, but there was no doubt at all that this would disembowel the slave and tear away Kate’s guts from and out of her body.
Even the removal of the pole after the event would become a real task. She let the pulley stop. Kate was left impaled, drowned in unbelievable pain. “Slave Kate featuring The Old-Style Pole!” The audience, being in high spirits, applauded wildly. Vanessa’s stomach had knotted into a tight, aching ball from the moment the pole had been revealed. She had screamed, shouted for her lover, but her cries had been swept away by the crowd’s cheers.
She had begged, but the Inferior Mistress twisted and tightened her collar to choke her. She had tried getting to her feet but the young sadist put the cattle prod to her beaten flesh. At least Kate was still alive. Vanessa hoped that this was something to be glad about. Now it was her turn…
The Grand Mistress presented the tool She was going to use on Her next victim, Her sinister smile curdled Vanessa’s blood. “I like to call this ‘The Winder’, at least till I’ve found a better name for it.” The screens showed a close-up. The whole device had a phallic shape and a length of half a metre. It consisted of a dozen of single segments, each one a metallic cylinder of four centimetres in diameter. They were loosely connected to each other by a steel wire running axially through them. The cable was fixed only inside the first segment but secured in the last one with some kind of mechanism Vanessa soon would learn about.
This characteristics made the device quite flexible. The enslaved Italian had to lie onto a waist high torture table that had been brought in during Grand Mistress Gillian’s last speak. She winced when her scourged back touched the cold hardness of the surface. “Bind her.” The Inferior Mistress followed the order by securing Vanessa’s grazed wrists at the table’s far end, stretching the arms. Leather straps bound the slave’s long legs at knees and ankles. Vanessa then was forced to pull her knees to her chin and felt the knee strap connected to the front ring of her collar.
Her naked and abused body was now bend double, her bum hanging freely with the near edge of the table painfully digging into the small of her back. Her lower legs were the only parts which were allowed a little mobility. Grand Mistress Gillian had thought about letting chain the blonde’s knees to her nipples and her feet to the clitoris’ ring. But pain and cramps would surely rip this valuable flesh during the forthcoming session. Tears had formed in Vanessa’s bloodshot eyes. She felt sick with fear. Her body hurt beyond believe, and this red-haired sadist was already about to inflict new atrocities on her.
The strain in her neck let her croak hoarsely. It was hard to breath in this obscene position, with legs pressing and neck being pulled, and it would get even harder… The Grand Mistress had noticed her sound. “Something to say to your fan club?” But the blonde preferred not to speak.
No word her burned mouth could form was able to change her fate. And soon she would make her comments anyway, with loud and hard screams. Grand Mistress Gillian stood in front of the table, the audience to Her left and both entrances to Vanessa’s Inner Sanctum in front of Her. Unprotected and swollen, the opening that was originally made for one-way business only was again chosen as target. Not a smooth wooden shaft, but the metallic coldness of the Winder would arrange the next phase of the evening. The Grand Mistress was the last who granted a slave any alleviation, but the sharpness of the cylinders’ edges and the way Her new toy worked made lubrication indispensable – unless She didn’t want to have fun with Vanessa’s -living- body again. So the sadistic woman poured cool gel over Vanessa’s mistreated rosette, then slipped a coated finger up the slavegirl’s arse.
The beautiful blonde sucked in air with a hissing sound and involuntary clenched her anus. Adrenaline flooded the inner core of her being and in former times she maybe had got sexually aroused. But certainly not yet. The Grand Mistress bend and twisted Her gloved finger inside the hot tightness to make the preparation as invasive and unpleasant as possible. Finally the finger left with a vulgar “Plop”. She didn’t use two or more fingers because She didn’t want Her victim to loosen up. The Grand Mistress lubricated the heavy instrument thoroughly and wiped Her hands with a towel.
“Make sure you have a good angle,” She told the camera slave next to Her, then She put the Winder’s tip to Vanessa’s forbidden hole. The first segment of the cold gadget wasn’t cylindrical but cone-shaped for “easy entry”, and indeed the secret tunnel opened up quite nicely. Nevertheless Vanessa uttered a sound of pain as her waste chute was quickly stretched to a width of four centimetres. Segment after segment found its way into her body, and soon the Winder bottomed out in her rectum, causing very severe cramping. But the Grand Mistress continued to press with cruel zeal and the intruder inevitably entered the loop of the colon sigmoideum. Unlike during Kate’s ordeal, this time the invading object followed more or less the organ’s natural form, but the cylinders worked like a rasp, even lubricated. Their edges scratched the sensitive tissue raw while stomping heavily through the tender entrails.