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Archive name: daphne03.txt (FMdom/cd, bd, tg, tort, nc)
Authors name: Daphne Bishop (1782@wildmail.com)
Story title : Daphne's Diary of Elegance and Decadence

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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DAPHNE'S DIARY OF ELEGANCE AND DECADENCE-- Part Three
Written by Daphne Bishop (1782@wildmail.com)
Copyright (c) 2002 by the author


PART THREE---"Daphne, You Are Pathetic"
       (Fdom/cd, nc, tort, tg/fetish, drugs, Fdom/M)

(When the Prof showed me "Daphne's Diary", I contacted 
Daphne and asked her to let me write my account of what 
happened between us in the Rubber Room. She was very 
flattered by my request and agreed as long as I "didn't 
leave anything out"....)


As soon as I felt the thick masses of semen in Daphne's 
rectum I thought two things:
1) No need to take her to the E Room, and
2) Mighty impressive, Ron.

From the way Daphne talked and the fact I didn't see 
anyone else around when I arrived, I had to assume that 
Ron was one of those rare 10cc+ men (Peter Berlin, Peter 
North, etc.). Daphne was no slouch in that department 
either...my vulva was still dripping and my inner thighs 
wet with her lovely ejaculate. I felt a momentary pang 
of guilt when I thought about the naughty way I had 
seduced her, but how else could we know whether she was 
a "real man" or not?

Realman, total queer, or whatever, it was time for me to 
reduce Daphne to just a "thing" to be punished and 
tortured. I smiled at her as I thought to myself, 
"Tonight I'll write a new 'Story of D'."

I ordered D into the rubber room where I selected new 
attire to replace the silly schoolgirl uniform. While D 
pulled on thigh-high shiny latex boots with 5" stilettos 
(a good match for the crotchless rubber panties and 
matching open-nipple bra), I carried a few special items 
into the Backroom. I returned and forced D into an 
incredible rubber straitjacket/corset that really 
emphasized D's hourglass figure and perfect bubblebutt. 
I cinched it as far as it would go and wound the 
sleevestraps so tightly I'm surprised D could even 
breathe. D started to say something, and I became 
enraged.

"Were you given permission to speak?"

I slapped her face hard and she staggered on the 5" 
heels, but kept her mouth shut. Pleased that D was 
cooperating, I rewarded her by strapping a new PenisMeat 
gag on her and forcing all 6" of it into her throat and 
roller buckling it behind her neck. D had the look of a 
frightened animal in her eyes as I grasped her cock and 
balls and pulled them out of the crotchless panties.

I needed a mild erection so I placed the tiny penis in 
my mouth and sucked. D moaned, and I tasted the tangy 
blend of my sex and her semen.

(On a purely personal note, I must say that of all the 
men and women I have had the pleasure of knowing 
intimately, none has been more sexually responsive than 
D. Without fail, every time it was demanded, she 
delivered partial and full erections, even when Sexual 
Olympians would have been exhausted.)

In moments I had my partial and quickly "ringed" her. 
One thick 2" rubber ring went first around scrotum and 
shaft, then six 1.5" thinrings around D's ballsack. Her 
nuts protruded obscenely and became bright red in color. 
I thumped them moderately hard with the back of my hand, 
and D doubled over and tried to scream but couldn't. 
When she straightened up, I quickly encased her entire 
head in a fantastic rubber bondage helmet, mouthless and 
eyeless, with only two small nostril slits for 
breathing. I stood back to admire my creature--"Rubber 
D"!

What a sight: D's gorgeous legs in "Pretty Woman" 
fetishboots, naked thighs and bubblebutt, g-string 
rubber panty, hairless cock and balls ballooning with 
tightrings, upperbody immobilized by ironlung 
restrictiveness of corset and straitjacket, neck and 
head completely cut off from sight and sound by 
skintight rubber helmet, and underneath huge gagging 
rubber throatmeat.

(I made some flash photos of Rubber D and later sold 
them for several thousand to Transformation magazine--
the magazine "For Men Who Love to be Women". I heard 
much later that Rubber D's photos generated over 5000 
fan letters...)
D could barely walk in the restraints and 5" heels, and 
I slowly guided her into the Backroom again. I brought 
her to the horse and bent her over it and spread her 
legs and chained them to the ends and finally had her 
where I wanted her. 

My instructor had given me an A+ in caning, and D was to 
be a very special caning victim. In minutes, D's ass and 
upper thighs were crisscrossed with dozens of thin 
stripes, all oozing beautiful red-purple blood. She was 
hoarse from screaming into the gag and there were pools 
of drool and piss on the floor. D had lost control of 
her bladder during the caning and spontaneously peed. I 
don't have to tell you how good I felt about that.

I had promised D that she would get my deluxe 
discipline, and I knew that my second course would be 
"right up her alley".

(Let me say editorially that Ron isn't the only master 
asstoy maker).

I reached for the largest assballs on the market, the 
Tom Chase model by Falcon. Six 2.5" rubber balls, all on 
the same rubber "vine". I had prelubed them thoroughly, 
and got down on my knees to get a good look at her 
asshole. I gently pressed the first ball into D's anus, 
so she knew, more or less, what was coming. When the 
first ball stuck and refused to go in, D began screaming 
in pain and fear of the monstrous diameters she would be 
forced to pass.

I put my thumbs on the ball and forced with all my 
strength, and the ring finally snapped and her rectum 
suddenly swallowed the ball, and D screamed continuously 
as ball after ball was forced in, and the balls entered 
her intestine and the last ball jammed completely and D 
fainted from rectal/colon pain overload.

(My instructor stressed the importance of "ying and 
yang" in dealing with my masochist clients.....)

While D was passed out, I unchained her legs then woke 
her up and moved her to the operating table. Further 
stimulation was the last thing she needed right now, so 
I spread a mummification bag on the table, helped her 
onto the table and laid her on her back on the bag. The 
assballs were still jammed in, and I left them there. 
Using roller buckles, I quickly strapped her ankles, 
knees and thighs. The mummy bag had built-in head 
restraints, so I had achieved total bondage. "Rubber D" 
could not move a single muscle.

I broke the seal on a slim rubber urethra catheter, 
grasped the partial erection (D always erected when 
prostatically stimulated),and forced about 7" of 
catheter in. Oh, the screaming! I ran the tube through a 
tiny valve in the bag and connected it to a piss 
collection bag hanging under the table. I mouth-lubed 
two clear nostril breathing tubes and pushed them into 
her sinuses. D was screamed out by then, and slavishly 
took the tubes with only a whimper.

I ran the tubes through a valve on top of the bag and 
made sure the tube ends would remain open at all times.

"Daphne, can you hear me?"

"Uh-huh." Weak, childlike response.

"I hope you're not claustrophobic, because I'm going to 
seal you into this mummy bag and keep you in complete 
isolation for quite a long time, maybe overnight. 
Goodbye Daphne."

As I zipped her into the heavy mummy bag, she screamed, 
snorted, mmmmphd and groaned in a frenzy of panic. I 
could still hear her terrified screams even after I 
completed zipping, but when I pressurized the bag 
(25psi) with the compressed air cylinder, all sounds 
from inside the bag became inaudible. I put my ear 
against the end of the breathing tubes to be sure she 
was still breathing and was gratified to hear her 
panicky sniffs of precious outside air. At the rate the 
collection bag was filling, I had definitely succeeded 
in scaring the piss out of her.

As I walked away, I remembered hearing someone 
describing the sensations she was now feeling as very 
much like being "buried alive". I shuddered at what I 
had done.

I prayed "Rubber D" would somehow be able to endure this 
ultimate bondage torture of absolute physical restraint 
and absolute sense isolation without losing her mind and 
becoming hopelessly psychotic.


I checked the time and was very much surprised to see 
that D had first entered the rubber room not quite an 
hour ago. Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it? 
I decided to look for Ron, or rather the "Prof" as 
Daphne refers to him in her Diary, and found him next 
door in an amazing nursery room. He was napping in an 
oversize crib and was naked except for a silk robe which 
D must have spread over him. I was feeling clever so I 
got up in the crib and lay down with my crotch right in 
front of his nose, and in seconds I saw his eyes pop 
open. I had heard that he could smell semen from 100 
yards away. He inhaled deeply and looked back at me.

"Is it Daphne's?"

"Yes, it's hers."

His eyes dropped in grudging admiration for a moment, 
and I hunched forward and got my labia against his 
mouth. I whispered, "Eat it, Ron. If anyone deserves 
Daphne's sperm, it's you. Come on, I'll feed it to you."

I rolled over on my back and spread my legs wide apart 
and raised them until my ankles were resting on either 
side of the crib. The sexuality of the position was 
extreme. 

The Prof scrambled around and knelt in front of me and 
whispered my name several times as if worshipping me, 
and plunged his mouth onto my vulva and sucked like a 
man sucking for his very life. He looked up at me and 
said, "Tell me everything you did, tell me everything 
you said and that she did and said."

I could tell he was the kind of pervert who got off 
vicariously, (a very homosexual trait if you ask me), 
but since he was burning up with passion I decided to 
give him every titillating detail.

At intervals, he would look up and ask me questions:

"Was she a good fuck?"

"The hottest I've had in years."

"Are you sure that all this come is hers, I mean there's 
a lot of it."

"You're supposed to be the spermtaste expert. You tell 
me....taste anybody else's? Put your tongue as far in my 
vagina as you can get it."

He did just that, and I exploded in an instant G-spot 
orgasm and his nose was on my clit and I orgasm'd again, 
and then his tongue was in my anus and I reached up and 
found his stiff penis and said "It's now or never, Ron", 
and he didn't hesitate and he alternated between my 
vagina and my anus and gave me the screwing of a 
lifetime, and he came half in my ass and half in my 
cervix, and we laughed crazily and shouted our names and 
Daphne's name, and Ron was queer no more and he laughed 
and cried with relief and loved me for rescuing his 
sexuality and I was happier than I had ever been or 
would be again.

	  (Thank you Daphne for everything...S)

				

It was difficult for me to read S's account of trapping 
me in the mummy bag and leaving me there. I had managed 
to just about block it out of my memory because it was 
the most awful thing that anybody ever did to me. She 
was right that I would go out of my mind. I hallucinated 
the whole time...all I can remember was the last one...I 
had become a human turd and was being shitted down a 
huge intestine which pressed in on me from every side 
and moved my turdbody towards a small but muscular anus 
which I knew would crush me to death.

What brought the nightmare ordeal to an end was a 
growing awareness that my bladder was filling instead of 
emptying and an urgent need to piss. When the pain 
reached cancer-clinic levels I was back into reality--
the bitch was draining the pissbag back into me! The 
strain to contain the massive transfusion of urine 
caused one of the assballs to shift and press directly 
on the shit-impulse nerves in my colon. Suddenly I had 
to shit and piss real bad!!! 

Trust me when I say that the human body is not designed 
to cope with such overwhelming, simultaneous urges of 
excruciating pain. At the moment when I knew organ 
rupture was imminent and I would die, the bag suddenly 
deflated and unzipped. I felt the straps on my legs be 
released and my legs lifted one at a time into the 
stirrups and the cockrings being pulled off and the 
rubber helmet pried off and the huge gag unbuckled and 
pulled out of my throat. Oh god, the sweet air of 
freedom!

(It was not to last because what S did next was 
unbelievably cruel and humiliating...)

"I'll take the catheter out and let you piss, but first 
you have to shit the assballs out."

She had me in a classic Catch-22: I couldn't shit even 
the first ball without pissing and I couldn't piss 
without shitting first!

I couldn't even beg Her because my voice was completely 
gone from the gagging and screaming. She had cunningly 
left me no choice at all. 

"If it's any comfort, at least half of the piss that's 
in you is mine," she said.

Oddly, even though I was in incredible pain, I found 
this kinky and arousing. I concentrated on the assball 
jammed in my anus...I isolated the rectals and anals and 
crunched my gluts...and the ball moved maybe a fraction 
of an inch. I began crying in frustrated pain and 
anger...she began slapping me hard and screaming at 
me...

I was at the edge of insanity and made one last ultimate 
effort, and the assball shot out and the next one shot 
out too, and S shrieked and jerked the catheter out and 
I pissed 6 feet straight up and pissed all over myself 
and all over Her and the assballs rocketed slimily and 
noisily out until the last one which I shitted so hard 
the whole string of assballs blew off the table and fell 
sloppily onto the floor.

(S told me later that the Rhodesians had been watching 
all of this and when the assballs fell to the floor, 
they rushed forward and licked the spermcovered balls 
and bit them and jerked them apart and ran off with 
them....)

"Daphne, you are pathetic."

She was right. Piss was at least an inch deep in the 
mummy bag, and I was still pissing and cramping. But 
worse was the residue which I had expelled with the 
assballs-- heavy mucous of intestinal slime, 
dog'n'mansperm, and ball-lube, all streaked with 
filaments and threads of blood. Like afterbirth, it 
oozed out of my open anus into the piss and sweat of the 
bag. She looked away from the mess.

"My God, would you look at that? Why anybody would keep 
homosexual dogs around their house is beyond me. Ugh, so 
disgusting."

I looked over and sure enough one dog was fucking the 
other up the ass. I kept my mouth shut about my amorous 
encounter with them. 

She picked up the penisgag and showed it to me. "It was 
in your throat for so long that your drool solidified 
like wax around the head. It's nearly half-inch thick 
with hardened drool. And just look at the last 3 
inches...." I had bitten and chewed the tough rubber so 
much there were hundreds of small tears in the "skin" of 
the penishaft.

"Hmm, I've got an idea. Open your mouth as wide as you 
can." I did and she forced the base in, and the dildo 
was mounted in my mouth like a harness. She got into a 
reverse cowgirl over my face and slowly lowered her ass 
to the dildo. 

I could see her tight rosebud lowering to the tip. Her 
normal pinkness was blotchy with redness, however, and a 
clear fluid oozed from it. I watched in awe as her 
babyanus engulfed the droolcaked head and slid smoothly 
down onto the rough tears where my teeth had been.

"Ugghhhhhhhhh.........." She kept coming down until the 
entire shaft was in. Her anal lips touched mine, and my 
nose pressed into her soft assflesh. I was in heaven and 
so was She. She lifted away and felt the rough surface 
tickle/annoy/hurt her anorectal tissues. 

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh...." 

(S later told me that it was at that moment that she 
first realized that She was anal-erotic like the Prof 
and me.)

As you can imagine, S was in no hurry once she 
discovered the incredible pleasure such an 
unconventionally modified dildo can provide. I would've 
frigged her clit but my arms were still trapped in the 
straitjacket. As it turned out, she didn't need to be 
touched but had a pure anal orgasm which I was 
privileged to view from only inches away. She even peed 
a little in my face.

When she was done, she swung around and straddled me and 
pulled the dildo out and forced it back into my throat! 
I swallowed in surprise and tasted her ass and tasted 
SEMEN! I knew it wasn't mine...could it be His? She saw 
my eyes and said "Yes, Daphne, it's Ron's. He fucked me 
like a Man while you were in your bondage bag."

I choked back a sob and then wept openly with pure joy 
of knowing how happy the Prof must be....


S looked at the diver's watch on her wrist and said, "He 
told me to have you ready at midnight, so let's go get 
cleaned up."

We stripped off our rubber clothes and left them lying 
on the floor and went to Room #4. This was a fabulous 
spa room with hot tub, wading pool, infrared lighting, 
lush vegetation, mirrored walls, massage tables, open 
showers, blowdryers and a private "showbiz" style 
dressing room with racks of lingerie and accessories. 
Everything smelled of expensive perfume. Soft jazz 
played from hidden speakers. We showered together, 
soaping and rinsing each other, kissing and 
fingerfucking too. Giggling like girls, we cuddled in 
the hot tub and let the superheated jacuzzi relax us.

I had to admit that She'd done her job and dominated the 
hell out of me in the Backroom. The trick with the mummy 
bag was one for the ages. Helping S get off anally had 
got me kind of stirred up too...I had a vivid mental 
picture of being screwed by a monster alien and my cock 
reacted. She noticed..."I can see you're thinking about 
me, aren't you?" I blushed, and She laughed.

"I haven't seen it, you know, but he's described it to 
me, and Daphne you are going to need an ambulance when 
it's all over."

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"I think you both are."

"I want you to be there."

"I will be, but I won't interfere with Him. He has gone 
to a lot of trouble and expense to give you the sexual 
event of a lifetime and I'm not going to spoil it for 
either of you. I'm going to do what He says, and so are 
you. If you get hurt, that's just too damned bad."

"Thanks a lot for the moral support. By the way, what's 
the theme--'Bride of the Alien'?"

"You are clairvoyant. It's actually 'Alien Honeymoon'. 
Your wedding night attire was personally selected by him 
and is in the dressing room. Let's go."

We found fresh champagne, cut flowers and marijuana 
there too. She had a ball getting high and getting me 
ready. He had defined the look He wanted, and I was 
happy to let her create it. Since no self-respecting 
bride of a mutant alien could possibly consider virginal 
white, everything was to be Elvira-black. S did my 
makeup perfectly and brunette curls to my waist gave me 
a Gothic Beauty I never knew was there. Heavy black 
eyeliner and shadow framed long black lashes and black 
lipstick and nails. So punk....

In a scene straight from 'Gone with The Wind', S forced 
me into an exquisite back-laced bustier/corset in black 
satin and reduced my waist to an incredible 22". I could 
barely breathe. She encased my legs in black nylons 
(with seams) and a black lace garter belt, then slipped 
my feet into 3" backless mules with black boa trim (very 
40's Hollywood). She fastened a thick choker of black 
pearls around my neck, and attached earrings of black 
jade carved in the shape of twisting penises.

She got on her knees and painstakingly forced my cock 
and balls into a wicked black leather "figure of eight" 
erection maker. Shotgun metal slave bands were tightened 
around my biceps, and heavy ringed black bracelets 
around my forearms. The "engagement ring" was in carved 
onyx and depicted a perfect anus slightly open (nice 
touch, don't you think?). The final piece was a gorgeous 
Vicky's Secret midnight lace peignoir sheer to the 
floor.

We were both proud of the reflection in the full-length 
mirror. In spite of the punky gothic makeup I felt I had 
never been more beautiful. In my stoned mind I actually 
began to feel like a bride on her wedding night...I was 
ready to be fucked senseless.

(Oh, the Drama of it all...)

"Before I take you to Him, I must do two more things. 
Bend over and spread your cheeks. I'm going to inject 
you with a rectal aphrodisiac made out of powdered Asian 
monkey penises blended with liquid estrogen. He says it 
will help you get psyched-out enough to take the largest 
objects he has--the Stretcher, the Snake, and Mister 
Ed."

I felt a long hard rubber syringe slide into my colon 
and the fluid release. My colorectal tissues began 
tingling.

"Open your asshole wider. The only way to do this final 
thing is with this surreal vinyl horsecock he calls 
Little Sam."

I felt the unmistakable horsecock flange press into my 
anus. It was incredibly slick with thick gel She had 
coated it with. She got the angle right and my anus 
swallowed it, and I could tell she had used Little Sam 
before, because when the massive head entered the sharp 
curve of my sigmoid colon, She began a clockwise 
screwing and I felt the heavenly sensation of deep 
insertion of monster cock and in seconds she had screwed 
the whole thing in me.

"The gel conducts electricity, Daphne. One of the Aliens 
he made is wired to pass electricity into your 
intestines.

I think He intends to electrocute you with it."

END OF PART THREE
	

Author's note: Nobody in their right mind could possibly 
condone most of the unsafe, unprotected, and perverted 
sexual activities described herein. DB

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Kristen's collection - Directory 18