~Subject: FANTASIA: Perspiration  (fm,bondage,pain)
~From: an117711@anon.penet.fi
~Date: Sat, 27 Aug 1994 : alt.sex.stories

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                        PERSPIRATION
                       by V.P. Viddler

    Perspiration.

   Actually it was plain old sweat, but Bob always called it
perspiration. It was more feminine, he said. And he loved to watch
it running down her body. Particularly when she was like this,
strung up by her wrists from the ceiling. Standing on her toes.
Body taut and straining. Breasts pulled up and out. Legs shown to
best advantage. All of her showing.

   That's why he had turned off the air-conditioning on this hot
July night. So he could watch her body running with perspiration.
And it was. Streams of it coming down the smooth sensuous flesh.
Down her back, down her breasts, down her long luscious legs. And
it coated her body, causing the blows on her skin to feel so much
more painful, as the slight coating of moisture lent a wicked
stinging quality to the already sharply agonizing cracking lashes
of their belts.

   How many were there? Abigail did not know. Bob had put the
blindfold on long before any guests had arrived, and it was on
still. And would, she knew, remain for the night. In utter darkness
she could only stand there, hang there, waiting for the next
terrible blow across her flesh; never knowing when it was coming,
or from whom, or to what part of her body. Never able to prepare
for it. Always in a state of fearful, jumpy anticipation.

   For hours she had stood this way.

   And it was only the beginning, Abigail know. Only the start of
a long, exhausting, agonizing, humiliating, degraded, soul-
grinding night.

   "And you say she'll suck our cocks for us, too?" said a voice.

   "Certainly," Bob's voice said smoothly. "Abigail will do
anything I command. If I command her to, she will suck all your
cocks, all night long and far into the morning. Isn't that right,
Abigail?"

   "Yes, Bob," she said immediately. "I will, Bob. Anything you
say."

   "You see?" she heard Bob say triumphantly.

   "Christ," another voice said. "You got her trained like a
puppy."

   Abigail suddenly screamed in swift agony as out of nowhere a
strap cracked viciously across her breasts. For a long moment her
body swung helplessly in the air, twisting, flailing, kicking,
finally coming to rest as Abigail gasped and moaned in blind
terror.

   "Look at that," she heard. "Damn, I want that and I want it
now."

   "Abigail," Bob said. "This man wants to fuck you. Spread your
legs for him."

   Spreading her legs meant that she had to allow herself to hang
unsupported from her aching wrists, tightening the strain on her
arms, tautening that body until the skin stretched, and sticking
her legs awkwardly out in the air, holding them apart, showing them
her soft, inviting cunt.

   "Stay that way," Bob said, and she did, sobbing, gasping,
forcing herself to hold that position in the midst of pain and
degradation and shame.

   "Ask him," Bob said. "Nicely, Abigail. Ask us all."

   "Please, sir," Abigail said in a shaking but clear voice.
"Please fuck this slut's body. Please, all of you, allow this whore
to serve you. I will suck your cocks and fuck you any way you wish.
I will crawl for you. I will drink your piss. Do anything to me."

   "Tell us what you are, Abigail."

   And Abigail, as a man stood in front of hre and stuck his cock
up into her cunt, as another stood behind her, pulling at her hair
while his cock rammed into her tiny asshole, said loudly, "I am a
cocksucking piss-drinking slut whore cunt slave and I am fit only
to crawl and give pleasure."

   Perspiration running down that soft supple magnificent hurting
body as she heard the scratch of a match being struck. Words
turning to screams at the unseen burning knifing at her nipple.

   "AHH..."