Visit Three: On the Cutting Edge
Oh my god, somebody please help me. Last night was easily either the best or the
worst experience of my life. I'm still trying to figure out which.
At shortly after 2 a.m. the door once again crashed open, wrenching me from a
sound sleep and into heart-pounding wakefulness. There stood the mistress Big
Linda Skrue, framed in the doorway, her hands braced upon her hips. I knew what
she wanted -- in general, at least -- and I gasped as I saw the latest result of
her endlessly inventive need.
Her long, wonderfully shiny red-golden hair was tucked up into a crisply billed
army cap, and mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes. Yet the haughty, imperious
sneer on her beautiful face was far from the most intimidating thing about her.
The rest of her outrageous get-up was straight out of some poor enslaved
submissive's worst-case wet-dream fuck-fantasy.
Besides her tightly laced combat boots, she wore little but an outsized army
fatigue jacket, open down the front. The tough cloth stretched tightly around
her generous curves, and the sagging, revealing open deliciously exposed the
ripe, swelling globes of her enormous breasts.
The khaki sleeves were also ripped off, exposing Big Linda's heavy biceps, and a
web belt cinched it at her waist. Shocked and immediately demoralized, I
nevertheless noticed a wicked array of objects dangling from the belt: handcuffs
and shackles, a limber leather riding crop, the usual assortment of dildos, of
course, and there, sheathed at her side, a long, wide-bladed bayonet.
Holy shit. Despite a stubborn twitching below the waist I groaned to myself.
Now what? Now what strange, twisted perversity was in store for me? I had no
doubt that I'd accept it -- what else could I do? -- but by now I was beginning
to fear for my sanity. Really, how would I ever be able to live normally again,
after the extremes Big Linda drove me to? But as usual my brutal blonde
dominatrix gave no sign of her evil intent. She merely stood there, scowling
down at me, and then stepped deliberately into the room.
Approaching the bed, Big Linda stripped away the covers with one practiced sweep
of her arm and immediately set about securing my helpless body. She slapped
cuffs on my wrists and ankles, spreading my arms and legs wide and shackling
them to the bed's four corners. When I was at last stretched tightly out,
spread-eagled and securely chained, without any slack or possibility of movement
at all, she moved in, looming ominously over me. Finally I mustered the nerve to
break the silence, but I got no further than the first word.
"What..." I began, and Big Mistress Linda stopped me instantly, with a stinging
roundhouse slap that immediately numbed my cheek and brought tears to my eyes
with its bruising force.
"Silence!" she shrieked. "Prisoners do not speak unless ordered to!"
Stars spun in my head, and with my shocked face twitching and tingling and then
suddenly flaming with delayed pain I bit my lip, trembling, while she looked me
deliberately up and down. Finally her attention fastened on my stiffly upright
rod, and she seized it in a painfully tight grip.
"All right, prisoner" Big Linda growled, in a low, menacing tone, "what the hell
is this fucking thing?"
My plump purple plum jutted from her enclosing fist like a pulsing heart, and
the death grip she had on me was exquisitely arousing. Searching in vain for my
voice I merely groaned, unable to understand or articulate my helpless response.
When I was slow to answer she jerked on me, pulling the monster -- as I humbly
call it -- painfully up and back and down until it pointed straight between my
splayed apart feet. "Speak!" she demanded.
"It ... it ... its only my prick," I finally stammered, wincing, "and it's yours
anyway, you know that."
Usually it's wise to play along. But not this time.
"Well if it my prick," Big Linda snapped right back, "What the hell is it doing
hard without my permission?"
I could only shake my head, unable to answer, and that was when she drew the
knife, 12 inches of cold, gleaming steel, and my heart leaped immediately into
my throat.
"Well!" She snarled again. "Since you don't know, and since it's my prick, maybe
I'll just cut it right the fuck off! Prisoners are not allowed to have hard-ons
without my permission!"
With that she pulled down harder against my straining upthrust curve, exposing
the vein-marbled root, and with an eager growl of excitement she put the cool,
keen edge of her blade to the base of my blood-filled member.
Naturally I thrashed against my bonds, fruitlessly seeking escape, but of course
it was useless. I was chained out as taut as a violin string.
Oh man! Just like before, the incredible, delicious thrill of my bondage was
exquisitely arousing to me, making my predicament ever so much worse.
Nevertheless I burst forth with a flood of pleas and cries, begging Big Linda
not to take my humble manhood. Somehow I sensed that maybe this wasn't a game,
that maybe this time she actually meant to hurt me, and I begged and whimpered
and groveled uncontrollably, caught up in pure, heart-freezing terror. Yet in
spite of this fear, or perhaps indeed because of it, my desperately perverted
arousal grew even greater than ever before.
My thick, back-bent, hugely swollen erection burned against the cold steel of
the bayonet blade, and it throbbed so powerfully that it surely would have been
cut had her strong grip not held it firmly. Meanwhile the rest of my groin
boiled with desire, and that potent sensory fire drove all coherent thought from
my head. Yet somehow my frantic, desperate pleas caught Big Linda's attention,
and she paused, looking down at me scornfully.
"What, you value this worthless little piece of meat?" she sneered.
"You want to keep it? Well you just admitted that it's mine. Give me one good
reason why I shouldn't just cut it right off and cram it down your fucking
throat!"
Needless to say, I racked my spinning brain, trying desperately to think of a
way to save my manhood. Unfortunately, Big Linda Skrue's sharp, deadly bayonet
was lightly, teasingly tracing circles around my turgid prick and tingling
balls, making it almost impossible to think. Then abruptly she snapped, "Time's
up!" and pulled the monster back even harder, stretching out its neck and once
again exposing the root. As she placed the heavy blade's razor edge to my skin,
my mental paralysis immediately broke.
"No!" I cried, "Wait, I know, I know, I can use it on you!"
I was babbling, terrified. "I will, I will, I will, B'Linda, I promise! Please,
B'Linda, please, use me, use my body like you always do!"
Tempted in spite of herself, Big Linda paused, still holding the blade against
me, and said, "What, this thing? You think you can satisfy me with this? Never!"
Again she bent to her task, squeezing me tighter and preparing to sever my
swollen manhood in one quick stroke. Screaming and thrashing, straining my thews
to the limit but wholly unable to move a muscle against the taut chains, I tried
one last time.
"Oh God, Big Linda no! I swear, you will come so hard, so many times, please,
just give me a chance!"
Mercifully she paused again, her biceps flexing as she gripped the knife,
considering. Then finally she answered, biting off her words viciously.
"All right, prisoner. You'll get your chance. You've got until dawn. I'll try
this pathetic little cock, and the rest of you, too. But if I'm not totally,
totally satisfied, if I don't have the best fucking night of my entire sex life,
off it comes!"
She sheathed the knife in one fluid motion, releasing my throbbing prick.
At once it shot back up to its original forward-straining curve, and I almost
fainted in my relief. I had until dawn to satisfy this most voracious,
formidable Amazon, but it wasn't going to be easy. That became clear right away.
Big Linda Skrue attacked immediately, hitching up the skirt of her shirt and
taking her usual position astride my face. Determined to save myself I went
straight to work, eating her pussy out like never before. I serviced that woman
like a man possessed, and by the sound of Big Linda's breathless panting and
moaning I was finally learning the trick of it. Soon she started rocking herself
back and forth, rudely humping me with her crotch, roughly rubbing herself off
on me and treating my face like it was merely some kind of cheap erotic toy.
Bound and helpless, sentenced to a savagely intimate mutilation and entirely at
Big Linda's mercy, I could only lie there, fighting to snatch a breath now and
then, as she roughly twisted and ground and pumped herself into an incredible
series of ever more intense, utterly screaming orgasms. And that was just the
beginning.
From there she moved to my cock, mounting me and using it with such an urgent,
frenzied passion that I couldn't believe she actually intended to slice it off
when she was done. Yet who knew? She was as unpredictable as she was demanding,
and I knew I had no choice but to believe her threats -- and to perform for her
as though my life depended on it. And so I did, on and on, act after twisted sex
act, as Big Linda used me for everything her wild imagination and voracious
appetite could dream up.
The night became an incredible blur of images: Big Linda, battering me about
with her giant breasts; Big Linda, grinding her crotch in my face and ordering
me to lick out her nether hole; Big Linda, standing next to the bed, cursing
foully and whipping me with her stiff leather riding crop; even Big Linda,
propped above me on palms and toes, wielding her long, strapped-on black rubber
dildo. But first and last and most of all, from beginning to end, it was Big
Linda Skrue riding: riding, riding, riding, mounted high on my achingly hard,
painfully erect prick and wildly plunging and bucking her hips.
It was to this timeless, eternal standard that our endless succession of sex
acts always came around again. Whether facing forward or back, whether I was
lodged in her slick pussy or her tight ass, Big Linda was constantly astride my
body, humping and pumping away, always seeking that next orgasm, and the next,
and the next, and the next, hour after hour after hour as that endless night
crept slowly around toward dawn.
But finally the sky began to lighten, and I knew my time was almost up. Big
Linda Skrue noticed too, in the very act of reaming me out once again, and I
suddenly felt her stabbing thrusts cease, and her stiff prick slide out of me.
She rose from the bed, that big black cock jutting wickedly forward, bobbing
slightly with her movements. Smirking at the fearful way I regarded it, she
stood staring ominously down at me, one of her hands toying idly with the knob
as she slowly shook her head. "Well, prisoner, it looks like your time is up.
It's dawn, and I'm not satisfied. Say good-bye to that worthless little prick!"
What? I gaped at her, stricken. What about all those helpless moans? Those
utter, screaming orgasms? What about the savage exhilaration that literally
shone from her as she brutally violated me? How could she not be satisfied?
Unbelievingly I watched in numb-struck horror as Big Linda Skrue once again drew
her bayonet and reached for my still-rigid erection.
Pressing the flat of the blade against my quivering balls, she grinned down at
me and said, "You know, I think I just might take these, as well. They're no
good to you without a prick, are they? We'll just make you into a sweet, sexy
little girl -- if you live, that is."
Incredibly she smiled, a cold, wicked smile full of evil intent. I couldn't
believe this was happening, and after the exhaustive night we'd just passed, I
didn't have the energy to even try to resist -- useless as that would have been.
Hopeless tears began running from my eyes, and I broke down as Big Linda once
again pulled me up and back and placed her sharp blade against the root.
"Oh, quit blubbering, prisoner," she sneered down at me, "at least you just had
the best sex of your worthless life, and the knife will be quick and clean.
Unless...." she paused. "unless you'd rather I used my teeth."
Seeing the look of disbelieving horror on my face, Big Linda Skrue crowed with
delight. "Oh yes! I think it would only be appropriate if I bit it off! I'll
save the knife for your hairy balls!"
With that she laid the bayonet aside and immediately went down on me.
With her strong, firm hand tightly anchoring the base of my rigid erection, Big
Mistress Linda slipped it deftly into her mouth, her lips closing on the
pounding purple head with a sensation that was nothing short of heavenly. Then
she began bobbing, her thick sweet lips sliding up and down the shaft, taking
more and more and more of me with each engulfing stroke.
Holy shit! For the last time in my life, I watched my hotly burning cock
gradually disappear from view, as Big Linda Skrue methodically worked to get as
far down onto me as possible before biting in and savagely shearing it away.
Dear god, why didn't I go crazy? Overcome by a perverse mixture of terror and
lust, I cried out instead in helpless ecstasy. Her strong fist was tightly
squeezing and tugging on my balls, and those soft wet lips felt so good sliding
on my shaft that I thought my head would explode. Meanwhile my tip rubbed wetly
against the back of Big Linda's throat, and perhaps realizing that this was the
end, the monster seemed determined to make the most of it. My excited nerve
endings sizzled and sang as I slipped further and further down the open gullet
of my doom.
And then at last Big Linda was all the way down, with her nose nestled deep in
my pubic hair. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a wicked grimace as she
prepared to bite. Again I screamed in terror, feeling her sharp incisors clamp
down on the root of my penis. But then, just as the ultimate horror seemed
finally at hand, my desperate genitals suddenly convulsed. Feeling their end
upon them, they exploded into orgasm, erupting and pumping out an incredible
flood of thick, sticky semen.
Ribbon after hot, spurting ribbon sprayed down Big Linda's throat, and though
her eyes flew wide, she immediately swallowed and swallowed and swallowed it
greedily down. Still my thick, precious seed continued to pump out, long after
it should have been spent, filling her up even as it emptied me. Big Linda's
mouth worked and worked, sucking me out like a water pump, and even when that
delicious creamy flow eventually stopped she continued pulling, tightly
squeezing my generous prick from the bottom up and milking me of every last
delicious drop. But finally she sat up, looking down at me in wonder.
She'd lost the sunglasses at some point, and gone too was the implacable,
demanding glare. Her eyes were now filled with a strange mixture of both awe and
satisfaction. She licked her lips several times, savoring, and at last she
spoke.
"Well, prisoner, I can't believe it, but I think you just won yourself a
reprieve. I guess that useless little prick of yours is good for something after
all."
With that Big Linda got up, sheathing her knife and going to the head of the
bed.
Keys jingled as she removed my shackles, and then she gathered up her things and
once again stamped purposefully out the door, leaving me to lie there, alone,
gasping out my relief.
