Magic Video Game Bum's blog: "Inside the Mind of a Madman"

I awoke from my drunken stupor with unfamiliar surroundings starting to un-blur. Regardless of however infrequent it is, such a sensation is not new to me, as it is typically accompanied by a tender embrace and a kiss to welcome the morning. The dank, uneven stone floor I slowly clambered from this time proved to be a tad more disturbing. I began to wonder exactly how much of an ass I made of myself flirting with the ladies during the time I lost. Things weren't crystal clear yet, partly due to the dim lighting, partly due to my just recently sobering state. As I finally got to my feet, my eyes made out a door across the room. About ten feet away from reaching it, I fell on my face. My equilibrium wasn't the cause, as something appeared to grab my left leg; the expertly tied noose just above my ankle was the true cause. Having the style I do as an author, I have written about a couple similar scenarios- none of which had a pleasant ending. The passing thought caused the blood to rush to my head, as if my survival instincts were assisting my fears to make my senses normal again. My hands feverishly worked to undo the knot my walking only made tighter, as my adjusting pupils scanned my current environment. Just when I made out a dark blur that resembled a table, I was blinded in shades of white. My fingers ceased making headway towards freedom when a searing pain came across my wrists. Before my mind could work for another solution, I found myself suddenly drenched and mildly pushed back from the water pressure. "Unclean beast!" shrieked who I assumed to be my antagonist, only adding to the shocks down my spine caused by the chilled water. She growled in disgust, before continuing, "Disrobe and bathe, FILTHY THING!" My body shivering was enough to coax me into obeying, as I just wanted my near-hypothermic state to end. Boots and socks were the first to go, followed by my painted leather jacket and flaming skull T-shirt. Just as I removed my right leg from the jeans and boxers, leaving them to dangle from the rope affixed to my left, the shadows from the stream and my adjusting sight caught the form of my tormentor. She was adorned in only thigh-high, long-heeled, straight-laced black boots, a red, sharply studded, low-cut leather brazier, and a hockey mask. Her semi-wavy red hair was just above shoulder length on her 5'6" 170+ pound body. The arms and legs of my feminine assailant were quite muscular, and her torso boasted a B to a C cup for her perky breasts. The best retort I could come up with under my panic-stricken state was, "What the HELL do you want from me?" I had no idea if it was my mistake, or just part of what she had already planned when the strap graced my cheek harshly just as my soaking stopped. "On your knees, hands behind your head," were the orders I followed as she pointed a knife to my chest. She slowly raised it as she approached, giving me a mild scratch, before lifting it just a hair above my flesh when it reached my neck. She kept the weapon in place as she moved behind me. Without warning, she used her wielding arm to drag me back into her spiked garment, giving me the strange sensation of jagged pain on top of soft skin against my back. She then used her free hand to raise my left arm above my head, followed by my right, shackling each in turn. Just as she let up with the blade, the shackles were raised, leaving me barely touching the ground. My legs were soon being wrapped together, from thigh to shin, by the same rope that bound my ankle. She cut open the noose to complete her binding, before taking my pants and underwear the rest of the way off to rub them violently in my face, and then threw them across the room. I turned my head, franticly looking for anything that might aid me through the bright light when the first came. My unseen captor started the lashings slowly, increasing the intervals steadily. I cursed, threatened, or pleaded with each strike, as the pain grew less and less tolerable. "SHUT UP, YOU YAPPING CREATURE!" was the command I refused, when my teary, sobbing self continued to goad her, and stopped my flogging shortly after. I was still screaming for her death when I felt her erect nipples gently brush against my welted and sore back. I cried, begging for an answer as to why, as she pressed into me further, seductively tracing her hand along the mark on my chest. She faintly whispered in response, "because you're an… ANIMAL!" screeching me to near deafness with her final word, forcing a ball into my mouth, and strapping it into place. My muffled screams and failed banter bothered her no longer, as she literally threw salt into my wounds, and resumed my beatings. She granted me a reprieve sometime later, dropping my shackles so I could slump on the floor. When the lights went off, my pitifully mangled body found no solace from its agony. Hope was fading fast, as my mind desperately searched for anything to stir dreams of escape. As I felt the droplets of blood slowly dry as they trickled down my spine, a faint memory crept into my brain. From nowhere, I recalled how it felt when she first pressed against me, knife still to my throat. My heart surged when I contemplated how close my life came to an end. I had no idea why, but I was starting to get aroused thinking about the knife- it scratching me, keeping me in a helpless state, the unnerving sense of danger it brought, the total loss of control it caused. Yet, I became repulsed with myself when I noticed I had an erection. At first, I tried to beat such thoughts out of me seemingly in vain, when more insane ones came to replace them. The glimpse I caught of her during my hosing popped into my head. How hard her nipples were, how soft her skin was, how perfect her breasts felt against my back, and how I felt an inkling of her vaginal fluids against my leg started to get me really worked up. As my stomach churned, my mind brought me flashes of how it would feel if I had my way with her. For reasons unknown, no matter how ashamed it made me; I couldn't stop daydreaming of how badly I sought to fulfill my desires with her. My lust for strong women overrode my self hatred for pondering it, as I thought of how it would've been if she was like my dates, if my tongue would be delighted to taste between her legs once it pleasured her, if it felt divine to be inside her afterwards. I was reeling from the visions, yet felt an increasing urge for release nonetheless. Neither caring how much it hurt my mutilated body, nor paying heed to how my shattered spirit rebelled against the notion, I couldn't help but to start playing with myself. As the possible sensations took root in my imagination, I whispered the sweet nothings and dirty talk I would've been during the fictional situations: What if she raped me at knife point? What if she forced her groin in my face right after she shackled me? What if her gagging me was the prelude to mouthing me? What if she was here right now, and these were her hands, and I was using mine to caress her? The mild tap to my knuckles and testicles, just as I was inches from orgasm, was painful enough to make me cease masturbating. "You're not even human enough to fantasize about me like that," she sighed angrily. I was too engrossed with my warped, self-humiliating act to notice her return. I was now further frightened as to what else her reaction may entail, while she dragged my body across the room, and then leaned it against the table I saw earlier. I knew in my terrorized heart that the table had to have more restraints and devices to be used against me. As she reached down with key in hand, a thought of desperation crossed my mind. Just as she unlocked the brace on my left wrist, I used my last ounces of strength to grab both of her hands as I stood. We vied for power, though my movements were clumsier than hers. I somehow mustered enough force to wrestle her onto the table. I laid on top of her, rushing to tie her arms down with the leather straps affixed to the table. The thought that she could user her legs as leverage to escape came once I succeeded, so I fought her kicking feet to tie them down as well. I met her taunting with hateful prose, as I limped towards the door in search for a phone to call the police. My rage for what I just endured slowly turned into another force, one dragging my soul deeper as it gnawed at me: the hunger for revenge. I realized that through all her verbal abuse as I reached for the doorknob, she was now helpless and lay prone. I knew it would be gratifying to degrade her as she did to me. I closed the door and turned back, each agonizing step reminding me of what just transpired. It lifted a little bit of weight from my chest each time the cane connected with her nipples. While she still exhibited no remorse, not even offering a feigning apology, I removed her mask to mildly violate her with a kiss. I pulled my tongue back just in time to avoid real damage, as her teeth only mildly scratched its tip. I grinned and gave a faint laugh, as she spit in my face. Unflinching, I wiped it off, and bit her left beast for my trouble. I took her body as I wanted to in fantasy- only I was the one in control. She screamed rape, death threats, and her undying hatred for me, all to my pleasure. Her not submitting to me guided my vengeance to raise my heart to the heavens. My wrath guided my hands to dig into her sides, drawing just a little blood to raise my spirits higher still. I bit her right breast just a little harder than I did the left, leaving a deep impression that made my lust intolerable. I pulled out to meet her enraged comments with a surprise. She went silent when my semen spewed forth, and, as I watched each spurt hit her face, an unnerving sensation of guilt overwhelmed me. Before, I thought I would feel like a god with my actions. Now that they passed, I felt more ashamed than I did while I was wrecked on the floor. She still stared at me angrily, but she was no longer arguing nor fighting. I hated myself yet again. I whimpered as I undid her bonds, then cowered beside the table, eagerly desiring the most vile punishment she could dream of to release me from my shame. She wiped her face off with my shirt, and tossed it aside. She knelt down, grabbed my face roughly by the chin, saying with a slap, "Don't you ever do that again, sub-human." She moved in to kiss me passionately, before further rewarding me for finally realizing my place. +=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= i have served my Mistress faithfully for quite some time now. i crave Her every whim, desire only whatever She wants, and love myself and Her more each time She uses me for whatever purpose my Mistress deems fit. i have been greatly rewarded for my servitude at times. i have only one fear: that i may one day bring disgrace upon myself by once again rising against Her.