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Teaching Shannon - Part 6
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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The following story is purely fictional. It is copyright © 1993 by its
author, Honi Soitqui Malypense, who grants to the public the right of free
replication for non-commercial purposes only, provided that no changes are
made and that this notice is retained. All other rights are reserved.
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WARNING
This story contains profanity, sex (m/f), domination of a girl by a man, and
violence. If you do not enjoy such things, please do not read it. If you
do, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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TEACHING SHANNON
Chapter Six
There was a ten-day break between the end of the Spring semester and the
beginning of Summer classes, and I had given Shannon the time off from studying.
During this interval we played games and walked together, and Shannon's thighs
healed up. After our one episode of ass-fucking, our sex was pretty vanilla for
a while. I need these periods of vanilla sex; they whet my appetite for darker
things. By Friday I was ready for something more interesting.
I had built another restraint apparatus in the basement. Its construction
was very simple; a pair of short four-by-four posts held a piece of steel pipe
stationary, about six inches off the ground, while another pair of posts, about
five inches behind the first, were arranged to allow the insertion of a matching
piece of pipe, only about four inches off the ground. Above and slightly behind
the rear posts were two two-by-fours descending from the ceiling, connected at the
bottom by a third piece of pipe. I had set the height of this last piece of pipe
so that I could pull Shannon's arms behind her and hook them over it, and she could
still just kneel on the floor. In that position, the stationary piece of pipe
on the ground would prevent her from moving forward, while the moveable piece,
once inserted, would keep her from moving up or back. She would, in effect, be
held to the ground at her knees with her arms hooked behind her over the upper bar.
A pair of handcuffs to hold her wrists together would prevent her from unhooking
her arms, and she would be held with her ass and front exposed, her tits thrust
forward by the position of her arms. She would be able to writhe around a little,
but not much lateral movement was possible, as the two-by-fours from the ceiling
were only about two feet apart.
I had not allowed Shannon into the basement since I had stopped quizzing her,
so, although she knew that I was building something, she did not know what it was.
Somehow she knew better than to ask. On Friday morning I demanded a blowjob,
knowing that I would need to have come to keep myself in control that afternoon.
Shannon complied at once, as usual. She could tell that something was going on by
my silence and moodiness that day, but she asked no questions. By midafternoon
she was pretty nervous, and was going out of her way to be nice to me. I rebuffed
her, which made her more nervous. I was losing my mind from fantasizing about
what I was about to do, but I had to take a shit before I could start. Finally it
happened.
"Come here," I said gruffly, coming naked out of the bathroom, my cock
pointing like a sexual divining rod. I took her robe off and threw it in a
corner, leaving her nude. "Go get a pillow," I ordered. Shannon left and
returned in a moment with a pillow and an anxious look. She still knew better
than to ask what was happening.
I took her by the arm and led her downstairs. When she saw the new piece of
apparatus, she began to tremble and pull away slightly.
"What's that?" she asked, her voice unsteady. I didn't answer, but took the
pillow from her and placed it on the ground between the posts. I pushed her over
so that she was standing just behind the pillow, and drew her arms back behind
her. My cock was already quivering, and pre-cum was evident at the tip. Rushes
of lust were coursing through me, making my diaphragm contract periodically, and
shortening my breathing.
"Kneel," I ordered. With a look of terror, but without a sound, she knelt.
I held her arms so that they hooked properly over the bar. I put the second piece
of pipe in place between the posts so that she was held down, and then secured her
wrists with handcuffs.
I stepped away to view my handiwork. God, it was a delicious sight! The
thought of it brings my cock to attention even now: Shannon, beautiful, young,
trembling Shannon, her breasts jutting out, her ass curving gorgeously, awaiting
my pleasure. I stepped behind her to take out the new whip I had bought---a
proper whip this time, not a rod---and began to talk to her.
"I've got a present for you," I said. My body was jerking slightly at the
hips, and my voice was thick. I took out the whip and, still standing behind her,
lowered it over her shoulder and let it snake down between her breasts. Shannon
shook and made a little whimper of distress when she saw it. Her voice was a
whisper when she spoke.
"Are you gonna...I mean...oh god." She stopped to swallow. "Are you gonna
use that on me?"
"Yes," I replied, "I'm going to use it on your tits." I brushed it across
her chest, making her shudder. Tears came to her eyes.
"Please don't," she said, "please. Haven't I been good?" She looked up at
me beseechingly, still not having, apparently, any idea of the effect this would
have on me. I reached down to caress her tits, and spoke in her ear.
"Very good, Shannon, very good. But, Shannon, it doesn't make any
difference. I..." I couldn't speak for a moment for the rushing sound in my
head. "I just have to. Oh god you've got beautiful tits."
I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so that she was looking directly
up at me. "Guess what, Shannon?" I said as conversationally as I could. "I had
to take a shit a few minutes ago, and guess what? I couldn't find any toilet
paper to wipe myself. I wonder how I can get my asshole cleaned up?"
"No, no. Please, no." She was really crying now, and trying to pull her
arms over the bar. I walked around to her front and raised the whip. Her eyes
opened wide as she watched it descend, and she screamed when it hit her chest.
A red welt appeared at once on the top of her left tit, and she sobbed when she
saw it. Her tears fell onto her breasts, and the sight of them gleaming there
drove me into a frenzy. I brought my arm down harder, hitting her right tit
this time, and Shannon screamed again and writhed around, trying to free herself.
As had happened on the occasion of our first "quiz," white liquid was dripping
from my cock, this time onto the floor. My balls felt as though they would draw
up into my body.
I began hitting her tits in earnest, making sure that I left no part of
them unwhipped. Lines of blood began to appear where the flail abraded the skin,
and soon her tits were a bloody mess. At first she screamed at every stroke,
cursing, threatening, and begging me in between, but after about fifteen strokes
she began to ululate constantly, merely raising her voice when the whip struck.
The only time she really screamed was when the tip would hit her nipple. I
couldn't really hear her anyway; I was deafened by the rushing sound in my ears.
Tears ran continually down her face, splashing her breasts. At around twenty-five
strokes, I guess, drool began to run from her mouth, and her curses became
incoherent noises like the sounds a deaf person makes when screaming in anger.
Somewhere after thirty-five strokes I stopped, almost out of control myself.
I backed away from her, panting.
"I'm going upstairs," I managed to get out. I went up to the kitchen, partly
to cool off myself and partly to give her a rest. I forced myself to drink
something cold and breathe deeply before going back down. I was more in control
than before, but I knew it was a fragile thing; I would have to be careful, or I
would go too far. Maybe I already had.
Shannon was letting herself hang, exhausted, from the bar when I came in. I
picked up the whip, and she looked up. When she saw it in my hand, she began to
cry.
"No, please, no more. Please, please." She looked down at her tits,
mangled and covered with drying blood.
"Oh god," she said, weeping, "oh, god." I waited for her to stop crying.
She didn't, but in a few minutes her crying subsided to a series of whimpers. I
walked over to her, the whip still in my hand. I bent down, my head next to
hers.
"Shannon," I said. I felt as though I was speaking directly from my cock,
without mediation from my mind. She moaned, and I went on, "it's time for you
to lick my asshole." She looked up. Her expression stayed blank, but fresh
tears came to her eyes. She moaned again.
"Shannon." She looked up at me again. I looked carefully into her eyes,
searching for signs of resentment, of resistance, but there were none to be seen.
She was too far gone for that, too close to mere survival. I continued, "You
have to lick my asshole, Shannon. Are you ready?" She nodded, tears still
falling. I knelt down on one knee and took her chin in my hand. "You have to
say `please', Shannon."
"Please." It was a whisper.
"No, Shannon, not like that. Say `please master may I lick your asshole'."
"Please master may I lick your asshole." Just barely above a whisper this
time.
"Do you want more of this?" I raised the whip.
"No, no! Please, no more." Genuine terror in her voice.
"Then say `Please, Master, let me lick your asshole, today and every day'."
Her voice trembled, but she said it. "Please, master, let me lick your
asshole today and every day."
"Almost. I want you to mean it. Make me believe it, or I'll use this again."
"Please, PLEASE, Master, may I lick your asshole, today and every day?" This
time her voice, though cracked, carried conviction. She was really asking not
to be hit, I knew, but it didn't matter; I had what I wanted.
"Yes you may," I replied. I turned around and bent over, my ass pressed to
her face. She began licking mindlessly at my crack, and I reached back to pull my
cheeks fully apart. I really had not wiped myself, so I was very dirty. Shannon
started licking without hesitation, starting down near my balls. My cock was
jerking up and down with the sensation. When she got up near my asshole I heard
her gag. "Don't throw up, bitch," I said, my voice hysterical with need. "If
you throw up I'll make you eat it off the floor." She whimpered again and began
licking enthusiastically, now almost at my asshole. The fire in my cock grew
hotter, and I knew I was going to come. "Lick it, lick it, you bitch. Oh god,
lick it. Shove your tongue up my asshole, or I'll whip your tits til there's
nothing left." She gave a little cry, and tried to shove her tongue up my hole.
As she pushed her head into my ass the rushing sound in my head became suddenly
louder. I felt my balls tighten, and I felt them explode. Cum spurted onto the
floor as I howled, "Deeper! Deeper, you fucking bitch! Oh god, suck my asshole
you cunt... oh shit eat it, eat it or I'll kill you, I'll fuck you with a knife,
I'll cut your tits off you goddamned cunt... ."
I had never had so intense an orgasm. Since then I have learned that
doctors collect sperm samples by attaching electrodes near your asshole and
giving you a jolt, and that is the nearest I can come to describing the feeling:
it was like electricity arcing from my asshole to my balls. Even though I had
come that morning, I came and came for what seemed like hours, my cum shooting
out sometimes seven or eight feet across the concrete floor. In my delirium I
was smashing my ass back onto Shannon's face, and she licked it as though her life
depended on it, trying desperately to drive her tongue inside me. I let her
continue long after I couldn't come anymore, grinding my ass on her face, my cock
hard and spasming at the touch of her tongue though nothing was coming out, my
face a grin of pure animal joy.
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