310 Selling Jean free porn video

310 Selling Jean
His name is Rob, and he was down on his luck, as he said, “if I didn’t have bad luck I wouldn’t have no luck, an it had been going on all lousy year!”
Sadly, that was a major understatement, first he lost his job, then as if that was not enough there was the car accident, and that was because his mind was on his lack of job, the insurance laughed, so no car or at least he had a car but no dollars to sort the damage, the roof leaked at home, and they had long run out of available cash, and in desperation he lad gone to a ‘friend’.
That Friend had turned out to be loan shark, and not a friend at all six, months had past and with the interest, the loan had become a giant monster and there was no way that he could now pay it off, worse he hadn’t told Jean his beloved wife.
Things were now getting desperate the shark had given him three options and he liked none of them and had just a month to either come up with the goods or suffer the consequences!
Option one was to pay it all by the months end, that was looking impossible.
Option two was not too and to enjoy swimming in the local river with a concrete overcoat... after tenderising! And that didn’t sound so good an option to him either, that left the third option, sell up, pay up and bugger off or just bugger off and leave every mortal thing that they owned to the shark.
He was now waiting his beloved wife`s decision, he had today explained the position, and she being a thinker, had said she “wanted time to think out her options” and had shut herself away in the bath, her only remaining luxury. So, for the last hour or more he had sat in his dads old rocker, surrounded by the family air-looms, knowing in his heart of hearts he had bogged it all up!
When she did return to him, she was dressed in slippers and a dressing gown, under which he knew would be a nightgown. Silently she took the proffered coffee then took a seat opposite him across the table, she drank and regarded him with cool eyes then said quietly, “well we have a few options as I see it!” she paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, then she went on, “we can simply lose all we have worked for over the years, walk away, start again somewhere else,” another pause, “I`m not keen on that idea as the thought of a life`s work going to that bastard, repulses me, and I don’t want to live anywhere else anyway!“
Another pause, he went as if to speak, she held up her hand, for silence, then in a more serious voice said,” we could both split up, go our separate ways, but that amounts to the same thing in reality, we are a married couple and we`ve come this far together, I belive we should go on together!” he nodded, “that leaves two options, suicide together or pay the shit!”
This time his mouth fell open, “SUICIDE, that’s a cowards way out, though its better than being butchered by his thugs, I don’t fancy that and there would be no way I want to lose you he would have won anyway but PAY HIM, how the hell can we pay him?”
She said that “if they sold their vintage car for spares, and the trailer, [caravan to us English types,] and sold the tiny fishing cabin up by the lake that uncle Silas left them, and which they couldn’t get too with no car anyway, they could raise the biggest chunk of the money, quickly and without losing too much!” he nodded his agreement, saying that, “ that would still leave them still a fair bit short!”
She nodded saying she knew “but she had had an idea about that” it was an idea that astounded him.
Her idea was to sell her body, prostitute herself, she explained that according to local gossip the girls in the trade, down century highway, the local red light district, were all making a fortune, so why shouldn’t she, it would mean his sharing her but as he had always had the “I want to watch you screw someone else fetish” it was not the most huge leap of faith for her to get screwed and he not be there, and they needed the money, she only had to do it for a month and at the rates these girls got, well, they could be rich! She laughed, “it would also serve your fantasy, just that you would have to enjoy the tryst second hand by me describing it all..” Reluctantly he slowly came to see that it was a solution, he wasn’t happy about it, the English call it living on immoral earnings, but he, Rob, her husband, had to bring himself to let her sell herself.
They slept on it, Jean by now having decided it was the only way, and secretly fancied getting more sex than she had from Rob for this last few months and a variety at that!
At breakfast next day, they sat, neither wishing to raise the subject, but both knowing they must. Finally, she simply asked “well am I going on the game or are you throwing yourself to the shark?”
Reluctantly he said “Well, my love, I have had a troubled night worrying about that” (lying basket he slept like a baby knowing now there was a way out of the hole, he had dug, and he was not going to have to work for it himself!) “And reluctantly I have come to the same conclusion as you and it’s the only sensible way out as I see it!”
A rush of adrenaline surged through her vein’s and she found herself struggling not to look eager.
The meal soon over they decided that they needed some incite into the chosen trade she was so keen to enter. Together off they went to the century highway area, the downtown bus dropping them outside the coffee stall at the south end of the main highway!
The girls that were about were dressed like hookers, tarty, skimpy dresses, brazen, she quickly realised that Rob was a liability, he had been offered sex, a dozen times before the coffee had been slopped into the mugs, and this was a fast food joint! It was a dog eat dog world that Jean realised was not going to be as easy as she had thought. She sent him off homeward, realising, that choosing a couple of the older tarts, and plying them with coffee, had more chance, which is just what she did. Janice and Julia were the two chosen and what they after a while told her, when she had explained she was not an undercover cop, (which they already instinctively knew, having an inbuilt radar for the laws presence!)
Julia especially was a hard-faced baggage, she was a typical hooker, out to make a buck, but no-ones fool. She looked Jean up and down then said she should forget it, it was not the vocation for her, she asked what Jean thought she earned a day, both women laughing at the price estimated (a couple of hundred dollars a punter) and explaining that to turn a trick at Jeans age may have fetched in 25 or 50 dollars a time, and less for a hand or blow job, It was not what Jean wanted to hear.
Half an hour later, it was a disillusioned woman that left the coffee stall, Janice walking with her, the still smirking Julia, watching them go and shaking her head., unable to grasp why a regular, clean, tidy housewife wanted to break into this ghastly trade that she herself had been forced into by circumstances... Janice, a little less hardened, and glad of the chance to chat with someone outside the sex trade, some one who wanted to know, pointed out that the girls on offer during the morning, were all younger, and it was hard to compete with the younger more-shapely women a lot of which were just turning tricks to pay for a habit and were desperately doing what amounted to overtime.

Jean had by now few places to go as they sat together at the tiny park garden, under the memorial clock (the local councils answer to brightening the local environment.) she explained to her new friend her desperate need for cash, asking what Janice would do when she got to her age, explained that “She would do anything, literally anything…”
Janice shrugged, said that for older women, there was only the pain route to satisfy real perve`s, either that or leave the trade and live like a drudge, go on the road as a hobo or marry, (at that she laughed hollowly) not that many men want worn out whores!
Jean swallowed hard, then asked about “the pain route”, then sat her eyes closed while Janice explained about the much higher money to be made, hiring your body to one of the more sadistic punters, she did not pull her punches, and added information about the time it would take to recover after the punters had finished hurting her, and the degrading side of the job.
Jean knew in her heart of hearts, that she had few choices, and also instinctively that her new friend Janice had walked this path already at some point.
It was an enlightening half hour, it appeared that some sadists liked older, more fleshy women, and would hire a lady, usually at auction if they were serious, but sometimes by private hire arrangement for lesser games! They would then tie the women up known as bondage and use them painfully for a specified period, revelling in the screams of their victims! It was known as B for (bondage) D (for discipline) S (for sado) & M (for Masochism the girls knew it as pain!) Naively Jean asked, “wherever this happened would not the police be called to the screams?” which was greeted by a wry smile and the dry comment that “the local police are not that interested anyway and there were places, dungeons, that were sound-proofed, kitted out and for hire if a perve knew who to approach, a” She looked pained at some distant memory, then quietly added that; “some go too far, and the woman becomes another victim of this awful trade, becomes a body, disposing of which is expensive, but can be arranged, just like all things! It’s a risk some take, it depends how desperate you or they, are for the money!”
There was a long silence then Jean asked the sort of prices involved, and was told that “six to ten thousand dollars was not unknown, but for that expect no mercy, though you could hire out bits for less, your bust or your butt, for whipping or needle play, that’s safer but less well paid of course, and the bastard will screw you too!” she looked up the main road, then said “Look I`ve got to go,, it`s been nice chatting but my pimp…” she left that bit unsaid, “Ring me if your still desperate and when you’ve given it some thought, with that she shoved Jean a card such as you would find in a phone box, it read Janice needs a spanking ring..{and the mobile number!} “Ring me and I will put you in touch, but please, ring me anyway and if I can help I will, as you haven’t judged me or my job” with that Janice stood and set off back to towards the coffee stall.
Jean wandered home, walking to clear her head, cutting through the park, normality, k**s feeding ducks, folk sprawling on the grass enjoying the sunshine, she shook her head, she had just spent time with a friendly tom, a lady of the night, a prostitute discussing having her body whipped, or defiled in some strange way for money, for the joy of some unknown sadistic man she had never met. Homely life as she knew it was now a wreck, and here were folks feeding ducks, it was unreal.
After a while she arrived home, Rob was eagerly waiting her, coffee brewed, and a casserole on the cheapest meal he could have arranged, another unwitting prod that their plight was desperate. He said he had “found a job, a night job taking the money at a fuel station, it didn’t pay near as well as his last job, but it would feed them, and it would help, if they could once get free of that blessed shark. Happy that her husband was again employed, knowing he was doing his best, she smiled at him, a drawn tired smile, then she sat and explained the problems and the solutions on offer, telling him gently about Janice, and leaving out the bit about the fatal risks involved.
They spent the next day or two selling the car, as spares or repairs, luckily a rare model, it broke his heart to part with it. They sold the trailer, now hardly worth keeping with nothing to move it, and then the cabin, luckily to the same business man that had the next cabin and had made them an offer when they had been to see their inheritance a month back!
They calculated the sales and found they were short of the total sum by about $14000, her heart sank, she knew what it meant.
Rob had begun his new job, stating at ten at night and sleeping from his arrival home in time for breakfast each morning, till early afternoon, the meagre cash paid on Fridays would see them through the day to day expenses, but she knew she needed to call Janice.
It was on the following Monday that she managed to buck up the courage, the number rang three or four times before it was answered.
The voice that answered said to hold on and after a few moments Janice came on explaining it was a shared line. Jean suggested they meet, Janice saying that “even she had some time off, and that the park was perhaps as good as anywhere, down by the pond!” It was arranged for the next day Janice having, what she referred to as “bookings” for the rest of the day!
It was ten am when they met in the park next day, Janice looking tired, dressed in a matronly summer frock, her blonde hair, swept back in a pony-tail, would have passed for any other housewife, taking a walk in the park. After greeting one another as friends do, they sat watching the ducks for a while, then began the conversation both knew was inevitable.
Janice started, by saying, “you still short of money then?” Jean replied, “about $14000 short and I need it by the first of next month!”
That was greeted by a silence only broken by a noisy duck attempting to screw his mate in a flurry of wings and furious quacking. Janice looked deep into her friends eyes and said, “are you sure you want to do this, really sure?”
Jean assured her it was the only way, and the younger woman said that she suggested she should “test the water, by offering her bust for a session, with a chap she knew of, busts being best to heal, and his speciality, she would know and understand then if she wanted or could bear to go for more!”
This received a tentative nod, Janice saying to “leave the details to her” and the subject was soon changed to more mundane things.
After a while they walked to a café, and over dognuts and coffee, Jean asked how her new friend had come to plying this trade. And again, it seemed a case of money playing a big part, in this case gambling debts by her lover, she had been “a bit free with her favours” to pay them off, and before she knew it she had been taken over by a pimp, one `big al` and during which she had lost touch with her gambling friend, she had been moved here by this pimp, who had been `shifted on` from their New-York home by a rival gang. and now could not get from the clutches of `big al` who she was terrified of!
Would she leave and live a normal life? you bet she would, but how to escape from the clutches of `big al` would be the problem!
They determined to help one another if they could, after the snack, Jean inviting the younger woman back to meet Rob, they walking together to the house and waiting for the luckless sleeper to rise which he did about two pm.
They spent the afternoon chatting, sex was not on the agenda, though Jean suspected that Rob wished it was, as she caught him eyeing her new- found friend wistfully.
After an evening meal together Janice said she had to go `big al` had a couple of clients for her, she no longer having to solicit in the street, her work was mostly late evening`s, hence she was free most days unless `big al` had her a “special booking”, she didn’t explain but with that, she wandered off back to her flat on century highway, promising to “sort out something” and that she “would call tomorrow.”
Rob soon had to leave for his work, and Jean to her bed, feeling somewhat frightened of what she had agreed too, butterfly`s churning to her imagination`s images, as she slept fitfully.
It was soon breakfast again, Rob, a tired man having had a long night, sat chomping on his meal, his wife opposite coffee cup in hand, as the phone rang, it was Janice, saying could she come over this morning, as she felt that her flat held too many memories of last night, and she had some news as well. That arranged Rob trundled away to bed, to unfeelingly sleep like a baby.
Janice arrived about an hour later, over coffee and the fresh donuts she had brought along, the sat enjoying one another`s company, Jean asked about last night,” had it gone well?” and her friend laughed, saying, “ the first one was a black with a tool like a baby`s arm, and the second used his belt on her backside then screwed her anally for a good hour, so walking and sitting today was hard!” Jean, with a grin offered her a cushion, which she gratefully accepted, asking if Jean would mind if she had a bath, her flat only having a shower. This was no problem and after being shown the way and running the bath, Julia suggesting Jean sat and talked, the working girl stripping without any hint of shyness, facing her friend as Jean took her seat on the toilet.
She turned to ease herself into the balmy water, it was then Jean saw her marks, a network of fresh red and livid welts across the young woman`s creamy backside, she had earned her keep last night, that was obvious!
She asked how often this happened and was told perhaps every third week, Janice, explaining that she “had grown used to that sort of treatment now, and even found it stimulating in a funny sort of way!” Jean reached forward and gently touching the welts, amazed at the level of spanking her friend had taken and still been up and walking so soon after the event. Janice turned regarded her opposite number and placing a hand on either shoulder drew them together, kissing her friend gently and thanking her for her compassion and concern, something she said, “her workmates never did, they mostly being hardened whores!” blushing Jean at first drew back a little, regarded the woman steadily for a second or two then as if making up her mind drew her to her body, kissing her passionately a long tender kiss that was reciprocated automatically, though after a second or two reality struck and they separated. Confused a little, Janice lowering herself into the bathwater, while Jean returned to her throne.
An hour passed again every subject on earth was discussed bar sex, until Janice raised herself from the suds and Jean began patting her dry with a big fluffy towel taken from the airing cupboard. Gently patting her friends backside, then applying antiseptic cream, and talcum powder, in a way that was both friendly and caring. Leaving the younger woman to dress, she set off to the kitchen to make a snack, and brew coffee, perhaps still more confused at her feelings.
With the snack they sat in the living room, Janice on the sofa, Jean in the armchair, both knowing that the problem of money and sexual pain was the elephant in the room. It was the streetwise -Janice that broached the subject, saying if Jean was serious still, now she had had a night to contemplate the situation, and had seen her backside and the welts? She had “spoken to a character called spike for her.” Jean sat for a second then said, “where and when?” adding that her choices were limited, “either I lose the home Rob and I have built up over the years, or I lose Rob, or I can suffer a little, and who knows I may even get to enjoy it!”
Her friend drew in her lips, “Spike has offered to use your breasts, he`s an artist with a needle or two, he will pay $2,000 to torture each breast overnight, but he wants me to come and watch, hold your hand, that sort of thing!”
Jean went pale, “will it be brutal?” She asked. Her friend nodded, “Yes I`m afraid he`s no slouch when it comes to pain, he wont spare you, but he will stop once he`s creamed, I know spike, he`s a one-shot wonder, though for god sake don’t tell him I said so, he gets off on a woman`s screams!”
“when?” there was a tremble in her voice.
“Tomorrow night, `big al` is away till the weekend, I` have no bookings, he never gets me any for a few days when I`ve had a spanking.”
There was a long silence, then in a more determined voice Jean asked what to wear?
Practical as always the whore swung into working mode, “Spike is old fashioned, he likes to see a strip, have you a business suit, flat shoes, pretty undies? And let me have a track suit it will be more comfortable to come home in he will pay me in cash before he starts, and he will supply a taxi home for you afterwards.”
Her legs felt like jelly, but she heard herself say, “ok, where shall we meet and what time?”
The arrangements made, they changed the subject, Jean saying that she thought her Rob fancied Janice, she was surprised when her grinning friend replied, “Yes he does, and so does his wife I am pretty sure,” which caused her to blush, and just as Janice began to speak once more Rob appeared, having just awakened. Jean flustered set off for the kitchen to bring him coffee and he took her place in the armchair yawning and stretching.
Jean returned coffee in hand and after introduction`s once more he asked what they were discussing, she looked down and said that she had a booking for the next evening, he went pale, reality striking home, as he realised what the implications were. He stuttered that he was working, and who would be there for her? to which Janice said she “was to be her escort and would come home with her afterwards, then she would phone him to say how things where, and stay the night, till he was home next morning at least!” he looked genuinely glad, and thanked her, saying “your advice will be important, as we are new to all this and we are more than a little desperate!”
Janice said, “she would do whatever she could,” explaining “she had the contacts and had the knowledge, knowing how it felt for her that first time, and knowing how to deal with the damage.”
Jeans blood ran cold at the mention of damage, and realising her friend was getting some worries Janice changed the subject, saying that she “thought Rob had some questions about her job, most men had!” they then spent an hour discussing whoreing, sex, straight sex , blow jobs, hand jobs, past punters, laughs she had experienced, games for more than one woman, gang bangs, and the attributes of toys, she was careful not to mention pain or bondage, and the hour passed rapidly, their minds on the chatter and not tomorrow night. It was soon time for Janice to return to her flat, she kissed each of them goodbye and the couple each noted the others close reaction to their departing guest.
Once she had left they ate, then had an eager bout of sex, Jean explain that the `booking` was for her breasts, and that he had best make the most of them, as they might be out of action for a day or two. They spent the next hour at the oldest of games, he chewing on her nipples like a baby in need, and the realisation that he was nearly late for work had them scrambling together his sandwiches, and his bag, he catching his bus by the skin of his teeth, and Jean finding herself suddenly alone. She changed for bed, straightened the sheets and after locking up and making cocoa, she took to her bed. It was then the next day`s “booking” hit home. it was to be a fitful night, dreams, moments of nightmare, restlessness, self-fondling, both of breast and clitoris, and periods of exhausted sleep, all peppered her night so that dawn was a long time coming.
The day too passed slowly, Rob sleeping with her, after breakfast, snoring heavily after the climax, she too dozing mostly from exhaustion, they dozed till mid-afternoon, she cooked for him but had no appetite herself, he bathing her, then choosing and dressing her in the clothes he picked, saying he felt like a cuckold, getting her ready for another mans hand. She said little, placing the track suit in a bag, then at seven he walked with her as far as the park, kissing her goodbye beside the pond, telling each other they loved each other and walking away from each other briskly so as neither could see the other`s tears.
At eight she was sat on the garden bench where she had first talked to Janice, waiting nervously.
As the memorial clock struck eight Janice appeared, she wore trousers and a tea-shirt and she looked tired, Jean stood and arm in arm they silently walked down the walkway, passing numerous working girls, some talking, some smoking, odd ones chatting to punters in cars, negotiating a price no doubt. One or two greeting Janice as they walked along, eyeing Jean as if she was a lesbian punter. They turned into a side alley, entering a side door, then descending, on dark steps, down, down, down into what to Jean seemed to be the very bowels of the earth. by now the butterfly`s in her stomach, had become birds, her nerves causing her hands to tremble as they entered a room that was surprisingly well lit. Janice hanging up the bag with the tracksuit, Jean taking in the tiniest of details, in this bare bland room of clothes pegs and benches, like a team changing room for some bizarre game, her wide eyes asking was this the dungeon. To which Janice quietly reassured her that this was just a changing room, and that ‘he’ would soon be here to meet her, explaining too her not to even smile at him, to be subservient and to only speak when spoken too.
The door behind them opened, and a short man appeared, near bald, dressed in black head to toe, neat, slick, and smiling cruelly when he saw her. He had a sizeable bag over his shoulder from which he passed a package to Janice, who counted the content, then nodded, before introducing him to Jean as her ‘lover!’
They rather formally shook hands, he passed to Janice, the bag, before he took Jean by the now sweating hand, and silently led her through a second door, followed by Janice.
A short corridor with doors either side led to a thick door, the bolt clattered, and they entered the dungeon, where a low light ensured it took a moment for their eyes to adjust. He let her look about, on one wall a St Andrews crucifix, behind the door a tall closed cupboard, to the left a chair, heavy solid, wooden, and bloodstained, straps hanging from the arms and legs, a thick wooden tray, again stained, leaning casually against the left side. In the other corner a couch, a doctors examination couch complete with leg rests and in the centre a rope lift under the single light, complete with floor rings. She shuddered, a look of shear panic rushing through her, as he let go of her hand, glancing at Janice who quietly nodded and told her to “to take off her clothes”, The little man sat himself on the examination couch, silently watching his eyes, missing nothing and full of menace. Panic settled for a moment, then the activity giving her something to mentally grasp at, she began to undo the buttons on her jacket. She slipped from it, Janice taking it and hanging it on a hook behind the big solid door. The skirt fell away, again Janice collected it, clipping it to a skirt hanger, that she had fetched with her from the changing room, his eyes bored into her, as she removed each stockings, Janice her aid placing the flimsy things into the jacket pockets and collecting the shoes, now discarded. Her feet now on the cold concrete floor, she could feel the drainage channels, coldly radiating from a central drain under the lift, they had thought of everything, her mind telling her it was for the blood, but her hopes saying they were for urine.
She knew she needed to pee, but decided now was not the time and anyway she had gone before coming out, so it must be just nerves
She shuddered, shaking fingers undid the white frilly blouse, then the cuffs, Janice, helping her off with the flouncy thing, adding it to the hanger, her eyes never meeting his, fixed on Janice and what she was doing, as her friend busied herself placing the jacket over the clothing and buttoning up the thing to hold it all together as a bundle in a most practical and mundane fashion it all seemed so final.
Jean stood in the white underclothing bright in the low light, stark against the darker skin, lacy but functional holding her mature breasts and covering her pussy and buttocks, in a way that made them seem neat and shapely. Knowing that removal of these last two items would reveal her maturity, and her matronly shape. He motioned her to do a twirl, to see all her aspects as she spun around, feeling vulnerable as his eyes missed nothing. She completed the turn, this time facing him, their eyes meeting, for perhaps the first time in here, his sparkling like a cobra about strike, hers like a rabbit caught in headlights.

They spent a moment assessing one another, then he nodded, whispering “knickers”, unable to find the resolve to resist the little man and dutifully and a little reluctantly, she pushed the flimsy white morsels from her hips, her untrimmed bush catching his eyes, and a smile of appreciation crossed his features, he was the first man to see her pubic area other than her husband, and members of the medical profession, since the day she had married Rob all those years ago. A moment passed, then he stood slipped the bra-shoulder straps from her arms, leaving the cups in place, his glittering eyes on her face hypnotically leading her as he took her hand and led her to the big solid chair, like a lamb to the slaughter she sat, totally under his spell, her heart beating loudly, thumping in her ears, her mind telling her she should run, knowing he was going to hurt her that was why they were here, but knowing deep inside she could not run off, the money had passed hands, she owed it to Rob, it was for paying the shark.
She suddenly realised it was Janice, her friend, her escort, her aid, who was placing straps round her ankles, the little tormenter strapping a thick strap around her throat, not enough to restrict her breathing, just her movement, the tasks done Janice placed the stained wooden tray across the chair arms, he lifting her breasts onto the grotty surface, the bra contrasting with the wood as he threaded straps around her left wrist, securing it to the back legs of the chair, her friend dealing with the other arm. She was now totally secure, she was not in control, there was nothing she could do, she was no longer responsible, whatever happened now it was down to him, not her, and a strong strange feeling of relief ran through her. Her mind silently told her ‘go on little man, do your worst, I can`t stop you can I, I am yours now, not Rob`s or even my own, I am your puppet and I don’t even know your name, it was strange, it was exciting, and it was happening.
He reached behind her back nimbly unclipping the bra, her breasts fell loose, spilling as only mature breasts can spilling onto the waiting tray, her head fell forward as far as it could, restricted by the throat strap, eyes on his hands and flicking to her breasts, knowing he was about to cause her and them, extreme pain, but feeling indifferent, unable to care, distant, it was a strange but very exciting feeling, just waiting.
Janice had removed the bra , she was handing the little man a piece of 4x2 wood, it was as if she knew every move he was about to make, her gentle fingers caressed those nipples, her touch soft, gentle then griping and lifting as he slid the wood into place, the breasts laying back on the wood, nipples peeping over the front edge, her mind casually taking in her friend, passing a nail to the man, it all seemed so distant, the tip of the sharp nail touching the skin just behind the areola, a slight pain, a pricking of the skin, whatever was he doing, Janice passing him a claw hammer, he struck the nail, an explosion of pain as the nail cuts through the breast, red hot pain screaming through the soft tissue, of the breast, her body trying desperately to move away from the nail, the straps stopping any real movement, but the tiny shift adding mightily to the pain. She heard a scream echoing round this deep soundproof room, realising it was her own voice, her mind saying down here only three folk can hear that scream, me that bitch passing him the nails, and the man holding the hammer and loving the pain and smiling sadistically, what have I done!
The pain receded to a throb, pulsing with every heartbeat, she became quieter, knowing screams only excited him more, tears falling as she watched fascinated as he took a second nail from Janice. Her mind rejecting the whole idea that he would send another spike into her flesh, how wrong could she be, this time the point of the nail pressed firmly into the flesh of her other areola, much harder. The hammer reappeared, his eyes met hers, waiting, the hammer head, resting on the nail pressing the tip into the meaty breast, she knew what was to come, her eyes fixed on his pupils, black and deep, the hammer raised, she was powerless to resist and knowing it was inevitable nodded slightly and with a bang the nail was struck smartly. the pain burned its way through the meat and direct into her screaming brain, tears filling her eyes and her mouth wide open and loudly screeching. His face a broad sadistic smile of joy, as her head beat a tattoo of shakes as if trying to simply shake away the pain.
He passed the hammer to his assistant, jeans mind registered that fact, praying that there would be no more nails. He smiled, muttered something to his assistant then took something from her and passed it before her eyes, making sure her mind registered it was a long thin medical type needle. Her eyes bulged, the tip touched her soft but secure breast a good inch above her left nipple, a flick of the wrist had the tip deep inside her bust, half way perhaps, into the flesh, pain again ripping through her body once more her voice another scream of shear agony, as he slowly oh so slowly inched the steel down through the thick meat a sadistic smile playing round his lips, knowing just how much pain it was causing.
At this point she passed out for a second, just as the point of the steel appeared through the skin, it was just a moment of black silent bliss, then shaking her head to clear the fog she returned, now aware of the searing pain in he breasts she opened her eyes to reality once more and realised that far from showing any concern her tormenter was poised with a second, long needle exactly as before.
As soon as he realised she was conscious he plunged the needle into the second breast and proceeded to push it relentlessly through the tissue, deeper and deeper until it too broke through the lower surface of the milk sack, the tip just touching the wood still attached to her by the nails. During the process, a procedure lasting perhaps 10 long seconds, Jean had begun to scream pitifully the instant she realised what was to happen once more, to the obvious joy of her tormentor and the apparent indifference of her whoring friend.
She cursed him, swearing at him, (not her usual way of communicating being a homely housewife but she was not usually in this terrible pain) between screams she cursed his mother for ever bearing him, and the shark for his part of the sorry mess, and even her one true love, her husband Rob came in for a few curses for the financial ruin, it relieved a tiny fraction of the pain, and caused the little man much sadistic excitement and entertainment!
He stood back enjoying every scream every curse every grimace, a smile hovering about his lips, as he watched her writhing in agony though trying desperately not to move and make things worse.
He slid the tray from under the nailed bust, the wood fell towards her belly, the breasts now supporting the weighty timber, adding to the pain and stretching the skin mightily, her scream increased in both loudness and desperation, he released the throat strap, she could see down once more, causing him much more enjoyment as she saw her nailed breast in their fullest detail, and noticed the tent in his trousers with a tall mast for a small man, bigger than Robs, her mind taking in that her pain and suffering was causing him untold enjoyment, suddenly she realised he was talking to her, shaking her head to clear her thoughts, to his joy, that shook the block, not a lot but enough to send another ripple of pain through the violated meat, she picked up perhaps just a word or two of what he was saying, something about real pain beginning now, her brain screaming at her that things couldn’t get worse could they? He was addressing Janice, something about a whip…
The whore scuttled away to a cupboard behind the door, Jeans eyes following the woman`s every move, the inside of the cupboard door hung with whips, straps and all manner of chains cuffs, and instruments she had never seen the like before.
A whip was selected and fetched it to the little tormenter, who nodded turned to his victim and began rapidly and with light strokes to whip the breasts dangling so temptingly before his eyes!
The multi thong leathers slapped the skin causing the block to jiggle and the pain to increase tenfold, once more her screams rose an octave, and sadly so did the strokes, increasing in strength, with every hit, she released her bladder to his intense joy, her unsupported head suddenly silent as she passed once more into merciful u*********sness, a stain spreading over the sadists trouser front, as she slumped unknowingly in her seat, urine dripping from her seat to the floor the only sound.
Her consciousness returned, and he was gone, her friend gently slid the tray under the pendulous block, that alone a tremendous relief as the weight was supported her voice soft, and comforting, urging her to “keep still.” She needed no encouragement. was. A glance at the red and welted breasts told her the intruding needles were still fully embedded, as of course were both the nails.
A claw hammer appeared in Janice`s hands, the claw squeezing the breast from the left nail-head, rolling and tugging at the embedded steel attempting to pull the thing from the wood, the pain tremendous, as suddenly the wood released the nail with a jerk that sent Jean off once again into the inky blackness of oblivion, Janice realising this was her chance roughly slipping the claw under the other nail head and levering the second nail from her friends body, the block fell away with a clatter, the hammer following it, she began to remove the nail from the clinging meaty breast, the first , the right one dragged its way clear, blood trickling from the two puncture wounds, her hands reached for the second, jean groaning as she began to return to our world, but rapidly returning to hers as the nail was removed, the needles next, each in turn causing unbearable discomfort, jean mercifully coming too only after the second came away.
Janice`s gentle hands released first the ankles, then the wrists, a drip of blood ran across jeans belly, a clean dressing and band aids from the first aid kit on the side of the cupboard soon solved that, and tentatively on wobbly legs Jean stood, assisted by her friend the staggered back to the changing room, switching out the light as they went, here the attentive assistant, helped her dress, without underclothing, into the track suit, bundling the clothes in the carrier bag, and slipping her feet into the flat shoes. Next came the ordeal of the stairs, still pale and wobbly, and very much with Janice`s help they ascended, breaking out of the doors into the bustling world of this busy red-light street. They found a taxi waiting as promised, the driver nonchalantly chewing gum and indifferently ploughing his way through the traffic. Arm in arm the staggered into the home, coffee soon returning colour to the victims cheeks, Janice then helping her to the toilet, where she threw up, then up on to her bed, by now looking a lot better. She slept till she heard Rob arrive home, refreshed now, though her tits were tender, she toileted then appeared in her nightdress in the kitchen, where a tired looking Janice and her beloved husband were talking quietly, and counting the cash smiling gently she said,” well that`s a start!”
To be continued