The Museum free porn video

Note:

In this story, I don’t describe in details people and places, this is to let the reader’s imagination do the job? You never have a better vision of the scenes than when you created it yourself.

English is not my mother tongue. Forgive me if sometimes it is difficult to read me, I’m not sure that I always used the right English term, or the correct grammatical form, and I apologize in advance to everyone who feel hurt!

THE MUSEUM

PART ONE: SARAH

CHAPTER 1

"Should I dress in a special way?" asked Sarah, pacing in her bedroom, naked because she was going to spend the evening alone. When she was alone at home during those hot days of summer, she didn't dress at all, whatever she was doing, for she liked so much the feeling of being totally naked. The air was warm, her curtains were opaque so she didn’t have to bother about being seen by neighbors or passer-by. More than a cool feeling, it was a need, some sort of animal instinct, to be naked. She loved her body, the color and the softness of her skin. She had always loved to be touched by anything in any way. Of course some caresses from a partner were very much appreciated, but she also liked to be accidentally touched by objects in any sorts. She had a predilection for all that was soft, like fur and plaids, and more than everything, the feeling of air against her whole naked body was an exquisite sensation. She had always thought that she has a sensitive skin, and she just wanted to enjoy it. So naked she was when there was no reason to be dressed.

And right now, before this phone call, on this late afternoon, she was naked also because she had planned her usual Saturday evening: watching one of her favorite movies, fantasizing on being the damsel in distress, touching herself until the orgasm came, then going to bed, full of unspeakable dreams... Sarah was good at dreaming, but when it came to the real thing, despite her 26 years old, she was still too shy to do anything unusual. She had a secret drawer where was hidden handcuffs, scarves and other things like this, but she had used them only in her dreams.

"No, no need, it's a casual nightclub..." answered John on the phone. "But can you be there in forty minutes? 'Cause they close the doors at 9pm precisely, and I won't be able to let you in afterwards..."

"I suppose I can make it, John, with the GPS I should be fine" she said without as much certainty as her voice could tell. But Sarah was happy to have been invited to go out after all, so she decided to give it a chance anyway... Especially if it meant spending an evening with John...

What she didn't know yet, is that the night was going to be the opposite of classical, and the reality would surpass her wildest dream...

To make things faster, she dressed quickly using the clothes she had worn during the day, and her car was already speeding on the highway when she put on the GPS and entered the address. Sarah remembered the name of the street but realized that John didn't mention any number. She typed in 01, thinking that she'll drive up the whole street, until she finds the nightclub. It should be easy, with the light and sign and... Funnily, she realized that John didn't say the name of the place either.

While her GPS guided her, she let her thoughts go at their will, and soon she was imagining John and her, naked in her bed, him caressing delightedly her body while she would be blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed... Reality came back to her when a barking dog started to run beside her car. Not wanting to think that her daydream was as close to come true as she was close to win at the national lottery, she tried to focus on her driving. The dog let her go at some point, and she looked at the expected time of arrival on the GPS: 8h54. Hmm, it will be a close one.

The street was very dark, with almost no public light. She started to believe she would not make it when she didn't see any nightclub, even after having driven twice the street. She decided to park, and to call John. His phone rang but he didn't answer.

"John, this is Sarah. It looks like I'm not far from the club, but I can't see it. Can you call me back to give me the name or the number in the street, or just go outside to try to see me?"

She wondered why she said this last sentence: did she want to be alone with him before meeting with the other friends? Or was she beginning to be scared, seeing that there were really not a lot of people in that street? It was, she realized, the area of the museums. She shouldn't feel unsafe here...

As a shiver went through her body, she looked up and down the street. The few people she saw were walking fast, head down, as if they were eager to be far from this street as soon as possible. "This is not a good place for a nightclub" she thought, turning around one more time to examine the other side of the street.

That's when she saw John's car. The good thing of being secretly in love to someone is that you pay a lot more attention to all his belongings. And Sarah recognized it without hesitation even if there weren't much light. It was parked near a crossroad, in front of a narrow black door, with no number and no sign on it. Pleased to have a reason for that, she called John again and talked once more to the answering machine:

"OK, I've found your car; it’s just nine o'clock so I'll go through the door in front of which you are parked... if it's not the club, come and fetch me! See you" The last bit of her message was stupid, and she realized it was her anxiety that made her lose a bit of lucidity. She wasn't calm at all, by now...

What she didn't know yet, is that her stupid message meant to John that everything was going on exactly as planned.

The building was big, for sure. It looked like nothing usual: About two stories high, plain walls with no windows on the ground level, but big windows of Plexiglas at the first level, through which nothing was visible. As she was looking very forward to see John, she didn't really take time to think, and went to the door. She knocked, but she thought that the noise could not be heard, so she tried the handle, and the door opened. She stepped in, hold the door for a bit of light and she soon found out that she was in a little vestibule. The only option was to go through another door two meters after the first one.

What she didn’t know, is that she entered, by the rear door, into the "Middle Age Tortures" section of the Human Evolution Museum.

CHAPTER 2

Sarah went through the second door, and was surrounded by dark. She decided to wait a few seconds to get used to the dark, and she listened carefully for any sound, especially music, while her brain was busy finding a logical explanation to all this: the club was new and surely didn't have time yet to put a lighted sign at the door. Certainly the club was underground to avoid disturbing the neighborhood with the noise, being the reason why she hadn't met anyone at the entrance, and why she still didn't hear anything...

The idea of using her phone to make a bit of light came to her after a minute of complete dazing due to the realization that she must be at the wrong place. The worst of it was the fact that she certainly wasn’t going to spend the evening with John. She rejected this thought, and tried to focus on the place she was right now.

So with a very bad mood, she looked all around, lighted by the dim light provided by her cell phone. She was in a small room with several big boards, and two doors, one on each side of her. She approached one of the boards to try to read it. She lighted the middle of the board with her phone, and could read things like "... by this time, inquisition ruled all over the world ..." at another place, she read "... some of those devices were never really used on people ...", and near the bottom of a third board: "... by this, volunteers hereby declare being in good health, and agree without restriction to all of the above statements ...".

All of that didn't make any sense to Sarah, as she was still hoping to find something close to a nightclub, so her mind wasn't opened at all to anything else. Indeed, she didn't even try to find a light switch on the wall. Without really paying attention to them, she let her legs walk her to the door on her left. She entered a bigger room, where a bit of light came through the Plexiglas windows above her, from the few street lamps outside. Even if it wasn’t sufficient to see clearly in the room, she was thankful that she could stop using the battery of her phone, better have it ready to be used for more important things, like talking to John!

She was near the corner of the room, which stretched more in front of her than to her right. The wall to her left was the border of the building and the Plexiglas above her were those she saw from the street. After walking a few paces, she found herself in front of a big wooden table. It seemed to her that further away along the wall were other pieces of furniture, looking more or less like... well, like nothing she could give a name right now. On her right, the room seemed empty, the opposite wall being at several meters and nothing else was apparently in the other half of the room. Due to the dim light, or her lack of attention, she didn’t see the red ribbon that delimited the room in two parts, nor the doors in the wall opposite to the one near which she was standing.

Her mind brought her attention to the table. A big wooden table, with several... locks, or sort of. They looked like semi-circles made of wide steel, padded in the inside with something like leather or rubber. They were of different sizes, and she finally understood that it was a table made to hold people secured spread-eagled on it. Indeed, the small ones were laid where the wrists and ankles would be (ankles spread widely, wrists far above the head), and the bigger ones corresponding to the torso. There were some that would close just above the knees, a big one for the waist or hips, another which went more or less under the armpits, a small one which must go over the head, maybe to cover the eyes, or the mouth. They were all in the "open" position, meaning that they had to be tipped over to be closed.

Sarah looked at the one nearest to her, tried to close it and saw that the end of the cuff went inside a slit of the same size, cut inside the table. But it didn't lock, she could re-open it easily, and she closed it, opened it, closed it again, just to see. Because unconsciously, a foolish idea began to appear in her mind, slowly spreading her way into her brain until she decided to have a try.

What she didn’t see, is the faint green light coming from under the table when the cuff was closed, light that switched off each time she reopened the cuff.

She also tried the other ones, closing and reopening each one in turns, even the big ones in the middle of the table. She began to wonder if they would fit her size, but she instantly fought this thought. What was she thinking! She had to move on, try to find John, or the club, or anything else than staying in this strange place. But instead of leaving, she reached her shoes and unlaced them. Another part of her mind was indeed telling her to take this unique occasion to try a little bit of the fantasy she often dreamed of. And where was the danger? Nobody seemed to be here anyway. She was just alone in some place where someone forgot to lock the entrance door. More than that, the cuffs didn’t lock at all. It would last less than a minute to lie down, and she would leave right after that to resume the search for John.

So with her shoes off, her bag and coat on the floor, her cellphone in her bag, she climbed on the table, and began to place herself in order to be able to close the cuffs on her. She started with the ones over her ankles, and made a pause of several seconds after closing them, just to see if something was happening. To avoid any doubt, she reopened them, to see that there was no problem, so she closed them once more. She tried to relax a bit (she realized that she was very tensed), and laid down the table, breathing heavily now. With her clothes on, she estimated that the cuff over her belly was in fact covering her hips, not far under her navel. Next came the one near her armpits, after which she closed the one for the head. As she had thought, it was covering the eyes, but it was loose enough not to press against the eyes. She felt an excitement grow inside her body; she explained it by the unusual situation she was in. But it lifted up her spirits a bit, and she was starting to forget about the club and the evening with John. So, more confident now, she reached the wrists cuffs with her arms. It was easy to close them, even if she hadn’t both hands to do the job, but she just had to place the forearm inside the cuff and use the fingertips to make them topple over her wrists. And that’s what she did, and still nothing happened.

If she hadn’t had the cuff covering her eyes, maybe she would have seen the green light coming from the seven little LEDs which were switched on under the table. Only two other were still off.

Rubber and not leather, was what padded the inside of the cuffs, now she could tell for sure. They were lose and not locked, so it wasn’t sufficient to feel a real helplessness. So to help her mind create a fantasy daydream, she squirmed a little bit on the table. The effect was cool; she managed to feel like a prisoner, held against her wish for an indefinite time, unable to get free from her captors, and probably on her way to some sort of medieval torture? She had to stop her fantasy, as the reasonable part of her brain tried to regain control. She wondered again where this kind of thoughts could come from (she always wondered that after her kinky Saturday evenings alone at home), or why was she enjoying this kind of fantasy. But she decided it was enough now, and time to move on. The first cuffs were easily reopened by pushing with her wrists. She reopened every other one, and noticed that she had forgotten to close those for the thighs. Well, never mind, that wouldn’t have changed anything, so she finished with the ankle cuffs, and got off the table.

Her reasonable part of the brain went back to sleep, or something like this, because instead of taking her bag and coat for leaving, she started to undress? I’m really silly, I’m really really not normal! she was thinking while she took off the last piece of her clothes. She even took off her watch, and put it in her bag. Someone could come anytime, who knows, the door isn’t even locked! But this thought was swiped by a new one: Just one minute! No, even less than that! No need to stay more?. Here, in an unknown place, in the dark, she succumbed to her need of being naked. She didn’t understand why, her thoughts were not very coherent, but her movements were not hesitant at all when she climbed back on the table, completely naked, and sure that she would be dressed and on her way back home in less than two minutes from now.

This time she closed the thighs cuffs after having closed the ankles ones. She lay down to close the belly one, and felt the coldness of the table against the skin of her back. But it wasn’t a bad feeling; probably the wood texture of the table was the reason for the comfort she felt. So she continued, closing the cuff over her upper torso, then the one over the eyes, then she reached for the cuffs for the wrists. She was quick because she wanted to finish with this and go back home without wasting time, so she didn’t notice, again, the faint green light coming from under the table.

When the last cuff closed, several things happened at once, which stunned her totally for a few seconds. First, all nine LEDs under the table were lighted on, but that she couldn’t see. Second, she heard several clicks, seemingly coming from each cuff. Third, she heard the sound of air being pumped into something.

Then she started to get it, as by instinct she pushed with her arms and feet on the cuffs covering her: the cuffs were locked, definitely closed. And the rubber part inside each one was inflating quickly.

Panic began to grow inside her, and she began to squirm, then to twist more violently, then she went completely hysterical, but it was too late: the inflated rubber was doing its job: she couldn’t slip her wrists outside the cuffs. Same for all other cuffs: there was no more slack in her bonds. This wasn’t possible, this couldn’t be, this was not happening! She stopped moving to catch her breath, and heard that the inflating of the rubber inside the cuffs had stopped, so she tried each cuff one after the other: the wrists were securely bound, with no slack. The eyes were covered as if she were wearing a blindfold, but a solid one that wouldn’t let any bit of light pass, despite its comfort thanks to the rubber. Her upper torso wasn’t moving either, same thing for her hips, firmly held against the table. She tried the thighs and ankles, but with the same result, none of the cuffs could be moved a millimeter.

CHAPTER 3

Sarah just couldn’t believe it. How on earth could it be possible that she were in such a predicament, with nothing she could do and nobody to help her? John! The thought of him gave her hope: she said on his phone that she was entering the building in front of which he was parked. Without doubt he will find her, and rescue her!

Phew, everything was going to be all right after all, and even more, he will be her savior and they would marry and have a lot of children and? Her mind, helped by a huge amount of adrenaline, was quick to turn her desires into hopes. But still, she would have to explain why she was naked on this table. Well, that was not a big thing after all, and that was finally the occasion to make her coming out about her fantasies, and what could be better than doing this too John?

A smile formed on her lips, and her muscles relaxed a lot. That’s when she heard the sound, something like gears rotating. Once more her spirit went rapidly from good to bad. She waited, and suddenly felt something over the base of her belly. Apparently, something was moving or growing over her, touching her from between her upper thighs, to up over her belly. She felt it reached the middle of the cuff securing her hips, and it stopped moving with a click that told her that it was locked in place. She tried to squirm a little to try to get the picture of it, and felt it touching her all along, from the waist cuff to the place on the table between her legs.

She couldn’t form the idea of what it was, for she was already too ashamed and too confused at the same time. Now she really wanted John to arrive and save her, because things were getting worst every minute. She was scared, she realized, and she even began to cry.

As she was sobbing, she didn’t hear another faint sound, until she felt something trying to penetrate her pussy. She froze instantly, and then heard the mechanism that was pushing softly some sort of shaft into her. It entered easily thanks to some kind of lubricant that she could feel, coming from she didn’t know where, but flowing between her pussy and rectum. As it was moving further inside her, she asked herself if it was going to stab her, but it stopped before any damage were made to her. Nevertheless, she thought that it was as deep as possible without her insides to be torn apart! It hurt a little bit, but she allowed herself a small movement anyway. It appeared that this thing was not flexible at all. With no time for her to think, the following step begun: she wasn’t sure but she felt plenty of spikes coming out of the shaft, jabbing inside her vagina in all directions. Hopefully the spikes didn’t extend to long and obviously they were not as sharp as needles, so the pain was bearable, at least as long as she wasn’t moving too much.

Sarah was abashed, depressed and despaired.

Where was she? Why on earth such a device existed? Who did that? Who can be so silly to do that and why? Why her? Why her? Why her? Why? Why? Why?

She didn’t expect to have the answer right now, so she focused on another task: screaming. As loud as possible, as long as possible, until someone comes in and rescue her. Of course, after a minute, or two, of screaming, her throat was sore but nobody came. She decided to have a break in her screams, to catch her breath and to ease her throat. While breathing deeply, she relaxed her muscles and that felt good. She realized that her arms were constantly pushing against the cuffs at her wrists since the cuffs locked, and letting them rest was a big relief for her muscles. Same thing for the muscles of her legs. She felt tired and, for a short moment she considered trying to have a bit of sleep before working back on the way to be rescued. She was a bit surprised to have this kind of thought, but she didn’t feel anymore the urge to scream or cry again right now, pointless as it seemed.

Even more surprising, by relaxing her muscles, she had the impression of surrending to this table and this device, and that made her feel better! She didn’t really understand what was happening in her mind, but the more she gave up struggling, the more she felt calmed and unfazed. In fact, she could relax more deeply her limbs, neck and body; because she was accepting the immobility and restrictions she was in. Her breathe too became deep and slow.

With each deep breathe out, she moved a little bit her hips (as much as her restraints would allow), and the pain she felt was, little by little, transformed into pleasure. She didn’t realize this at once, so when she did she was surprised to feel her body move around the spiked shaft inside her pussy, and even more surprised to seek pleasure from this.

She almost felt comfortable now, several minutes after having been so despaired. That was when the first wave of electrical shocks arrived.

CHAPTER 4

Five shocks, about one tenth of a second each, spaced by one second, each being more powerful than the previous one. She screamed at the third one, and for the fifth one it was a huge shriek. She froze, unable to breathe, waiting for a next one that didn’t come. All her senses were on edge, she had never been so alert in her entire life. After several seconds that felt like minutes, she allowed herself to breathe again. She wanted to cry but didn’t have the energy to do it, or so she thought. She was despaired again, and wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else. Well at least her mind told her that it was the right thing to want. But she also noticed that her breathe went back to a calm one very quickly, and that if she had really wanted to cry, she would have started crying a long time ago by now! So, what was really going on with her feelings? Why wasn’t she reacting like any normal person in such a situation? She had just been hit by a painful thing violating her most private part, in an extremely humiliating position, and she didn’t want to rebel, to fight against it (with her only available weapon: her voice and big screams). Was it because she was too tired? Or was it something else, more linked to the fact that she had special fantasies and dreams? Indeed, as unconventional as this situation was, she couldn’t deny that it corresponded to her wildest fantasies. Even if the pain hadn’t been a part of them, her dreams were always dealing with being captured and bound, helpless.

She focused on her pussy, to mentally check the remaining level of pain. She was astonished to discover that she was extremely wet, and that she wanted to move her hips and work on the spiked shaft again! The pain wasn’t unpleasant, even more, to her astonishment she realized that she was horny!

She concluded, thus, that she had liked to receive those shocks of electricity in her vagina. She tried to remember them in a different way, letting the memories nourish her arousal, and she started to move her hips more widely. And it worked, the memories of the delightful pain made her reached climax, and she had an orgasm here and then. She sighed deeply and loudly as the last spasm went away, her lips forming a big smile, but her eyes full of tears. She was in shock, because a part of her had just woken up from a hidden space of her consciousness.

She spent a long time without thinking, for she was in a sort of trance. Or, maybe more in a state of rebirth. Yes, that was it, a new Sarah was born. Little by little she recovered the faculty of thought. The first thing that came to her shaken mind was the question: Is it this, to be a masochist? She had already asked herself what she was thinking about sadism and masochism, and back then she had concluded that, given her response when she banged her toes against the corner of her bed, she just couldn't be a masochist. But what was it then? What was making her so thrilled and so pleased to feel this pain, making her able to reach an orgasm just with the memory of the pain, if it wasn't masochism?

To look for an answer, she tried to remember two things. First, each time she had felt pain in her life, had there been any effect on her libido? Second, in her fantasies and dreams, was there any pain involved? All she could come to was the hypothesis that for masochists, pain was not enough to create pleasure, but pain and a particular situation could make the job. This conclusion didn’t bring any answer to her questions, but something else did: a second wave of five electrical shocks. She didn’t anticipate them, so the first one made her jump, or would have made her jump if she hadn’t been so firmly glued to the table by the cuffs. But she quickly recovered, and she welcomed the four following ones with more... pleasure!

Still, the shocks were painful enough to produce an uncontrolled sound from her throat, but it was more a gasp than a scream and instead of fighting them, she just enjoyed them. On the fifth and biggest one, all her muscles contracted and it felt like a very intense tickle over her whole body, concentrated in a very short amount of time.

A few minutes later, she was longing for some more. She even tried to cause them. Maybe it was a certain position, or movement, that triggered the shocks, something she could find and control. So she squirmed, but in a controlled way, in order to remember her movements, and to try different sequences of twists and turns. The spiked shaft inside her made its job and another climax was growing quickly. This time she tried to hold it. She didn’t wonder why, she just didn’t want to have an orgasm right now. Of course, she didn’t know what was causing the shocks, so she didn’t know if she could do something to cause them. After a lot of efforts, nothing had happened, and she took a rest. The idea came to her that maybe it was the immobility that was the trigger. So she tried to stay as still as possible for as long as possible, even holding her breath. Still nothing happened.

A strange thought occurred to her: she realized she was thinking about those shocks as of something she wanted, but some minutes ago those were the reason of the greatest terror she had ever lived. Well, life is strange, this place was strange, this table was strange, she still couldn’t figure at all the why and the what surrounding all this. So she lay still, trying to rest, and to forget about her desire, big desire, to be shocked again. From time to time she pressed against one cuff or the other, but of course nothing had changed in her restraints, and she apparently wasn’t going to be freed for now.

Now she began to be frustrated. She knew that for a lot of people frustration was a good way to increase the power of orgasms. But she had never really experimented that. Well, now was the occasion, for she hadn’t found any way to generate the shocks. Her joints weren’t hurting, but she couldn’t say that they weren’t sore from having been in an awkward position for a long time. What time could it be anyway? She remembered that she entered the building at nine o’clock, but how long had she been in there? Was it something like half an hour, or two hours? She guessed that the next shocks should arrive soon?

And the shocks arrived at that precise moment. She welcomed the first one with the pleasure and satisfaction one can have when been offered a present. For the following ones, she tried to seize the instants as enjoyable as possible, and the result was that she acted exactly as if she were making love to the metallic shaft inside her, with its sharp spikes all around it. Anyway, the effect was there and, added to the frustration and the urge she had held since the previous wave of shocks, when the fifth arrived she exploded in a powerful orgasm, much more powerful than the one she had reached earlier thanks to the memory of pain.

She let her body move under the spasms of pleasure, but without pressing hard against her bounds. It was as if her mind had started to abandon the idea to use her muscles, accepting that they were useless due to their restraints. And she realized that her feelings were deeper, her sensitivity was much greater, as if every bit of her skin was giving the signal that it enjoyed the moment very much. It hurt, to be sure, especially the last shock which was a real pain, but it felt so good. She was extremely aware of her body, her position, as if her mind was present in every part of her, and at the same time her mind was the only thing that she wanted to control. Indeed, she didn’t try to control her limbs or torso anymore; she gave it to the table and her restraints. Her body was becoming a part of the table. Only her mind remained as the person Sarah.

CHAPTER 5

After a few minutes of calm and deep breathes to recover from the power of her orgasm, she went back to her thoughts, trying to figure out the time she had spent there. She remembered that she anticipated the arrival of the shocks just before they arrived. So a new idea came to her: maybe she was not the trigger, but a timer or something like that was. She tried to remember if the time between each wave was the same, but she really couldn’t tell. Nevertheless, she was almost persuaded that it was regular.

So she waited, trying to concentrate on the amount of time that was spending.

She waited, while the spikes were permanently procuring her a bit of pain, enough to prevent her from forgetting this device inside her, enough to prevent her from falling asleep. It was a constant pain, but largely bearable if she stayed still. She even found it enjoyable! Yes, she admitted it now, she liked this pain inside her more and more. Or more precisely, she didn’t like the pain itself, but the effect caused on her body and mind by the pain she felt, associated to the situation she was in. It was what she had more or less understood while thinking about masochism: pain plus context equals pleasure.

She waited, but she was feeling good despite this pain, despite the tiredness and despite the anxiety that came when she considered how and when this evening could end. She was feeling perfectly good in fact. Due to the recent acceptance of what she really was, and due to the acceptance of letting her body belonging to the table.

She waited and eventually a new wave of shocks arrived. The same shocks as the three previous waves. This time she didn’t have an orgasm, but she enjoyed the pain very much, even if her body jerked uncontrollably with each shock. Her body was all the more shaken by the electricity because of her complete muscle relaxation. She was almost disappointed when the fifth shock stopped.

It seemed to her that she had waited the same amount of time than before. But she wasn’t really sure, of course she couldn’t see her watch, or her phone, or anything at all due to the cuff efficiently blindfolding her. She had to wait for the next one. Will it be the fifth? The sixth? As she didn’t focus on counting them, she had a doubt about how many times she had been electrically shocked. But she was more and more persuaded that the duration between two waves was constant. She also guessed that this wouldn't stop by itself. Something told her that only someone could stop this machine. That wasn't irritating her; in fact it pleased her, to be completely dependent of someone she didn't know. It was not a guess that this machine won't stop by itself, it was a wish. What was puzzling her was having this wish, but she couldn’t analyze this for the moment.

Exactly when she told herself that it was time, a new wave arrived. She loved it, even more than the previous one, because she was less concerned by the situation and all the questions and doubts she had. Even if she didn't have any answer, she didn't care anymore. Only her pain and pleasure mattered. She was too tired to have other feelings than plain and pleasure. Or just one other: she was very frustrated because she felt a huge will to be touched. She wanted so badly to be touched, anywhere, anyhow, and not only by those damned cuffs! But of course, that was not possible right now. She wondered if she should talk, or scream, to ask for someone, but she decided that if there was someone here she would have heard him. She was blindfolded, but not deafened.

She was relaxed, zen, and each time she thought of the coming wave she couldn't help a smile. She was looking forward to being hurt again, and when the time arrived, she was surprised, or more accurately very puzzled, to feel the spikes retract in the shaft. It was painful where they had been jabbing her vagina. Once she couldn't feel them anymore, the shaft began to move, but not towards the exit. It thrusted deeper inside her. It's just when her mind took over her terror and could form the thought will it jab me? that it stopped. Several seconds after, it began to rotate. It was rather pleasant, if truth be told. Then, while continuing to rotate, it retracted, almost until being completely out of her. Then it stopped retracting, but not rotating, and after a few seconds it penetrated her again, to reach the same place as when it began to retract. It continued to rotate while pushing inside, retracting, pushing again. It was actually fucking her. She didn't expect it, but she came hard on the shaft, with a gasp that lasted for several seconds.

She could feel that her insides were very fluid, and she thought that there was some sort of oil flowing from the shaft, because she also felt it run along her skin towards her anus. It felt so good. Her spirit was lifted up a lot, because she thought that this meant the end of her torment. She supposed, indeed, that after this, the machine would release her. But after some more time the shaft stopped rotating, and resume the place it had during all the time before the fucking session. And the spikes reappeared. She was disappointed, but she enjoyed the pain caused by them. She still didn’t try to think about all this more than just to keep the track on what was going on. Her mind was too tired and too broken to be clever, or curious.

She waited, having nothing else to do. Her thoughts, which were almost dreams considering her state, began to wander, and soon reached the area of fantasies. But there was something new in the way she let her thoughts wander: no more unconscious taboo, no more restriction in the deepness of the feelings she was experiencing. It was a sort of complete freedom that didn't exist before. She didn't realize it of course but now she had felt some tortures for real, there was this realism in her daydream that had never been there before. It was the same difference that exists between a child’s dreams and a grown up ones: the experience of life made all the difference.

So she went to her favorite secret garden: somewhere with John, maybe in a bed. They were both naked, him tying her to the corners of the bed, caressing and touching her everywhere on her body. She began to move on her wood table, around the spikes, but she was so deep in her daydream that she didn't feel the pain it caused. She moved only her hips, because her mind had submitted to the fact that it was pointless to move anything else, considering her bonds. But as in her dream she had almost the same position as on the table, it fitted perfectly that she couldn't move.

At some point, in her dreams, John let his hand go to the area of her vagina, and began to masturbate her. It wasn't long before she came, and it corresponded exactly to the first series of five electrical shocks, the same as the ones she endured before the fucking. The pain was only pleasure now, it even didn't make her jerk anymore.

And the waves of shocks followed each over, with a fucking session after every five of them. It appeared to her that the time between two waves was probably of ten minutes, which would make the fuckings come every hour. But she had lost all notion of time by now. She just stayed on the table, enjoying the pain and pleasure that was given to her, because now she was thinking of it as a gift made to her body, to her needs. Unable to move, she didn't have any other needs anymore, but the need for pain and pleasure. She had stopped to wonder how this was going to end, she had stopped to think about her situation and the consequences, about why she was there, about the near future. She had stopped to think at all. She was just a body linked to a table, the table feeding the body with its only needs of pain and pleasure.

CHAPTER 6

She knew she had been asleep when she realized that she had woken up. If been asked, she would have said that she just had a wave of shocks, but she wasn’t sure. She could tell even less the number of waves between the last fucking. But it really didn’t matter right now, because she understood why she had woken up, and she instantly froze: she could hear footsteps and whispers, and they were growing louder and louder.

She couldn’t believe it, because she was expecting a different ending: one person finding her (John preferably), and rescuing her at once. Here, she could only guess, there seem to be several people, not at all precipitating themselves towards her to free her. Indeed it seemed that there were some people chit-chatting calmly, as if they were not seeing her, or worst, as if they were seeing something normal to them, something they were expecting to see. Could it be that they were not seeing her? She could tell by the dim light around the cuff blindfolding her that the day had risen. So if people were near enough to be heard, they were bound to see her.

She had to say something. Ask for help. Now. Her mind had surrended to this table and she wanted to stay there forever, but this wasn’t possible and she couldn’t avoid coming back to the real life, even if it was the last thing she wanted in the world. Her time was up, and the quicker it was done, the quicker she would be safe at home and ready to forget this difficult and embarrassing moment. It was unavoidable. So she gathered her courage, she concentrated on her mouth and voice, and said:

"Tout...?

?Touch my breasts...."

What?! What did I just say? What I am doing?! Noooooo! She didn't really understand why she said that, all she was aware of was the terrible need to be touched. On her breasts especially, but in fact she wanted to be touched everywhere.

"Please, someone, squeeze my breasts! Please!"

She was begging to be touched, like a homeless would beg for money or food. She was begging to strangers, people she couldn’t even see, while being naked, bound and tortured on this table for she doesn’t know how many hours.

She didn’t recognize herself, but at the same time she never felt as true to herself, never felt as real as she was feeling right now. It was as if a heavy burden had been taken off her shoulders, as if a relief finally arrived after years and years of waiting. And it made her feel so good. As if all the problems she had in life, all the misery, violence, corruption, poverty, sins of the modern world had stopped affecting her, couldn’t affect her any more.

She could hear that some of the people were very close to her, and she felt frustrated not to be able to grab someone and pull him to her, to be touched, squeezed, caressed, tickled or whatever, as long as it involved touching her skin. And her skin seemed so sensitive and so hot to her, she felt a wave of heat coming from all parts of her body.

The noise around her seemed to come from only one direction: to her right. Indeed she remembered that the table was near the wall to her left, and that the room had seemed empty on her right side. She could tell that there were probably ten to fifteen persons, looking at her like an audience would look to some sort of show of which she was the only heroine. She felt ashamed, and wanted to be elsewhere, but of course she wasn’t going to move at all. Instinctively however, she shifted here thighs, arms, and waist. Her movements seemed to create a reaction from the audience, because she distinctly heard some laughter.

Suddenly the noise reduced to almost no sound at all. She froze, expecting something, then felt someone climb on the table. His or her clothes touched her skin here and there while the person was installing himself or herself. He/she was now astride her, above her waist, and he/she was sitting over her, pressing gently on her belly. It wasn’t painful, certainly he/she was also resting on his/her heels, or knees to reduce the weight on her belly. The crowd was still silent.

He/she didn't move and didn't talk. Sarah was wondering if she should say something, but she decided to keep her tongue, for the last times she used it she has said? disturbing things!

?Hello Sarah? said the man sitted on her after a moment. ?How are you doing? Having fun? I’m glad you came, and I thank you!?

John! John? Oh nooooo, nooooo, nooooo, nooooo, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! This couldn't be him! This is not possible, this is not happening, it’s a nightmare and I need to wake up right now!

At this moment, she was glad to be tied by the cuffs, for it gave her a good reason not to move. But truth was that she was completely paralyzed by humiliation. She never ever felt such a huge embarrassment, she just wanted to disappear. Her cheeks were becoming red as blood, she guessed, and all the people looking at her must be appreciating her shame, and that increased even more her feeling of humiliation.

But of course she also felt some relief: he was supposed to be her savior, and this terrible night was on its end. Terrible, but so enjoyable. Well, that, she wasn’t prepared to confess to him right now.

His voice was loud and clear when he resumed:

?Ladies and gentlemen, in this room of the museum, as you can see, we have real persons who volunteered to try our torture devices. This one, my friend Sarah, voluntarily put herself on this device. But let me explain how this ingenious table works?

What?? What did he just say? Is he kidding me??

Oh yes, I’m here on my will and now I want someone to touch me? touch my breasts! Oh I need to be touched! Please!

She was too abashed to react. Those different thoughts at the same time were all too much for her to understand. On the one hand, she realized that John was talking the other people as if he was leading them in some sort of visit of the museum, and on the other hand she wanted to scream her need to be touched! Her mind was so fuzzy that she couldn’t gather her thoughts and think clearly. Anyway she couldn’t find what to say, and John continued:

?On this table, the victim could be kept as long as her tormentors wanted, and they could hurt her as much as they wanted. It was used essentially against spies, to make them pay for their treasons. But we allowed ourselves some modifications, or I’d rather say some upgrades, in order to make the experience more, hmmm, comfortable for the volunteers who agreed to give some of their time and? energy to this museum. Maybe one of you will be our next victim for our Kinky Sundays At the Museum? It’s easy to apply, but I’ll explain later??

Now she had all the pieces of the puzzle to understand where she was. But she was really confused and couldn’t accept the idea for the moment. She heard laughter and chit-chatting in answer the John’s question, but it faded down when he spoke again.

?Now, about our upgrades. Remember the objective is to benefit from medieval torture devices to create modern pleasure machines. So here, a metallic dildo with spikes like this one, yes madam, as big as this one, is inserted inside her pussy.?

She felt him twisting a little bit, she guessed he was showing something to the audience, and apparently it was a replica of the shaft inside her.

?Every ten minutes, she received, through every of the spikes, five electrical shocks, progressively higher in voltage, the fifth one being very painful. And every hour, the spikes retract and the dildo masturbates the lady, with the objective of making her reach a relieving orgasm. Then the cycle restarts again, five waves of five shocks then the reward, every hour.?

A lot of thoughts were fighting to be formed in her mind. To begin with, she had it right about the regularity of the shocks and fuckings. Second, she now knew that she was in a museum. She remembered the building from the outside, but she didn't see any sign indicating a museum. Probably it was because she entered by the back door. But what gave a certainty to this predicament was the fact that she knew that John’s sister, Wendy, was working in a museum in this town? Probably it was this one, and John got a very special job thanks to her?

"Now, here, you can see the remaining time before the next wave, and here is the number of the wave in the current cycle. Finally, here is the total number of cycles already performed for the current session. The victim, or I should say the lucky lady, comes when she wants during the night between Saturday and Sunday, and the device is made to start automatically when the victim is properly installed. There is no need to be helped by anyone here."

He paused, and everyone seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for him to continue... Then, simultaneously, he grabbed firmly, almost violently her breasts in his hands, as the first shock hit her. He squeezed and pinched this sensible part of her, while the second, third, fourth and fifth shocks came and went.

She took those shocks as would have done any beast in rut during a reproduction scene: she fucked the spiked dildo with her pussy as wild as her remaining strength would allow, and with her breasts she fucked John's hands. She put all her energy and willingness in that sexual relationship, to the great pleasure of the audience. But she didn't care at all about them, all that mattered now was that she was having her biggest ever orgasm, because she was bound and helpless, because her mind had given up fighting, because her brain had abandon control of her body, because it was John the cause of all that, and because it was John's hand taking care of giving her breasts what they were asking for since a very long time.

She almost passed out, the orgasm being so powerful. She wasn’t ashamed anymore. She trusted John, and now she knew things were going to be completely different between them. Thanks to him, who guessed right about her desires and made her walk the path to this moment. She was so glad to him, so grateful. Other nights like this one, with different devices, were ahead of her, and John was going to be her guide. All was perfect.

END OF PART ONE

In part two, you will meet Wendy, John’s sister, and you will meet Eva, another girl who loves to be tortured. The museum will open another room for them.