Friday, July 15, 2011

'96 Months' XI

After many months, I was completely depilated. The piercings were completed. Not only were the insides of my legs studded about every two inches, but when my wrists were secured over my head, two continuous lines of gold rings one on each side ran from my ankles, up the outside of my thighs, to the hips, rib cage and finally up my arm to my wrist. I counted over a hundred. And each one inserted into an aperture made by the Princess’s searing hot needles.

My body became quite shapely. The well balanced diet and the daily exercise provided great toning, particularly below the waist. Abdul commented that my buttocks were becoming better and better suited for the cane and his strokes reflected it.

But the Princess did not allow her needles to rest. Many long afternoons were spent hanging from the pipe where the Princess would slowly work her torment. Paula would be servicing her while the ominous alcohol lamp heated special needles. These were barbed and once the flesh was penetrated difficult to remove. The Princess knew exactly the right level of penetration. Intense pain but no scarring. The pipe was lowered until my breasts were at eye level and her games began. Her favorite was to lick and suck on one nipple sending waves of pleasure then slowly prick the other. Just the sound of the initial contact was frightening. A low hiss, barely discernible then the sharp signal of pain. Each needle remained and was slowly allowed to cool while the Princess held another over the flame. If I was good, the Princess would have Paul service my anus with his tongue. The young castrate only administered my back passage and the strong, well stretched tongue could actually penetrate my sphincter and provide amazing pleasure. But that was when another needle hissed, and I would scream.

Toward the end of the session the Princess would explore my vagina with her free hand and mock my excited state. The simultaneous pain and pleasure was unbearable and she knew I was very close to orgasm. But the question posed and not answered was whether it was the sensation of the needles or the oral service that brought me to such a state.

When Princess Rosanna tired of the game, or when my nipple was covered with the barbed needles, she would blow out the lamp and leave my breast looking like a pin cushion. Sometimes Lantita would come in and slowly remove the needles. She was careful. But the barbs made it difficult, and I would again suffer from the Princess’s handiwork. Other times I was taken, needles jutting and bobbing, to the Princess’s bedroom. There, after being secured for the night, the Princess would light the alcohol lamp, reheat the needles and watch me squirm and writhe. Then it was bed time with Paul and Paula and I slept donning the steel shards.


Suzanne said...


Been a busy summer and haven't had a chance to keep up with all of your writings. This week has allowed me to catch up a bit. Nice to see you haven't "lost it."

My best,


Chris Bellows said...


Glad you are enjoying.

Not so much 'losing it'. This one I found from very long ago.

The style is clumsy. I now rarely write in past tense, but such does afford the writer great latitude in portraying the passage of time.

Telling a 96 month long story in present tense would be difficult to do with cohesion, unless one utilizes flashbacks which can either confuse the reader or become laborious for the author.

The genres are too mixed making this story unpublishable, notwithstanding the age of certain characters.

Thank you for the note.