Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
JOURNEY OF A PAIN SLUT - ACT 2 Chapter 19
“No problem dear, lunch will be ready when you’re done.” NYE was over for another year, and to be honest my head wasn’t feeling too bad. I think I had spent the evening focused more on how and when I would next get to see my Little Girl, rather than on where my next drink was coming from.
What sort of a night had she had? Fucked by the BF? I imagined her naked under his touch, his cock inside her, screwing her hard, screwing the anger out of his system wondering who gave his girl those marks. Has she told him about me? Surely not … I hoped not. She was my guilty pleasure and I wanted to remain hers.
“Okay love,” I shouted back down the stairs, “It should maybe last about an hour.”
“No problem, though you need to have a strong word with whoever organised an MDT Conference call on the 1st of bloody January.” There was a smile in her words, and so I knew that my wife believed me.
A Multi Discipline Team Conference call from the hospital, which I would have to take inside my home office, behind a locked door given the confidential nature of the call content. The perfect excuse to begin my research.
So, what did I know? I knew that I wanted to crucify her. I knew also that I wanted to use nails, at least on her hands, but maybe on her feet too. It was going to take place in those same woods and in the dead of night, most probably in the very early hours of a dark morning.
What did I need to know? Well, I needed to think through and plan the hotel logistics. Getting in and out with her and such like, and then everything that I could possibly find out about how to most effectively crucify a girl.
“… Wounds to the body sends a blood clot to the heart …”
“… Victims died from "hypovolemic shock …"
I knew that this condition sets in when a body has lost so much blood and fluid that the heart can't continue to function. So, this was beginning to sound like I could crucify my Little Girl, and providing I was able to monitor her heart rate and blood pressure, and by doing so ensure that she was not mounted for so long her death throe kicked in, then she could easily survive.
I felt elated.
… and horny. Oh, so horny.
I was erect, a fucking great hard-on pushed at my jeans as I opened another tab to look at pictures of models being crucified … mostly not with nails, but their expressions and stretched bodies were a sexual and erotic delight to behold.
“I am going to make this so hard and so painful for you my sweet Little girl …” I said quietly to myself, but I also knew how much she would love what was being done to her.
But the cross. How would I make or find a cross?
I wouldn’t have the time or logistical possibility to craft an actual cross and then mount it with sufficient stability, and so I would need to improvise.
I wanted a heavy cross beam for her to carry, naked to the place of her crucifixion, which I could easily find and transport with me. But I needed to find a tree that was of appropriate shape and sufficient dimensions to allow me to fix the cross beam, with my Little Girl attached, to it. I would need to visit the woods beforehand and make sure that the scene that I was planning was prepared to perfection.
I had to momentarily close my eyes. In my mind’s eye I could see her, my pain slut, naked, scourged, flesh torn, dripping with blood, eyes wide with fear …
“What I have let him do?” She would whisper to herself loud enough for me to hear, as I positioned and nailed her feet to the rough bark of the tree trunk …
Her head flew back she arched away from the tree as far the long, thick, penetrative sedile would allow and she cried out.
That was it. My shaft was free, in the grip of my fingers and I wanked myself until thick bands of my seed shot high into the air!
Eyes still closed. Fingers lightly gripping my softening cock as shortening rivulets of residual semen oozed from my urethral slit and down over my digits. I gasped for breath, my chest heaving.
My hour was almost up. It would soon be time for lunch … and domestic normality.
But I needed her. I needed her like I had never needed anything before. She would ultimately be my undoing, I knew that. But she was under my skin, that Little Girl, the student from over the Pennines.
I took out mobile and opened up the contact that was known to my phone only as LG. I began to type.
“I need you to suffer for me Little Girl. I need to tear your flesh and open up your body. Send me a date. When can we be together again? xxx”
I pressed SEND just as my wife called out to say that lunch was ready.
“No problem dear, lunch will be ready when you’re done.” NYE was over for another year, and to be honest my head wasn’t feeling too bad. I think I had spent the evening focused more on how and when I would next get to see my Little Girl, rather than on where my next drink was coming from.
What sort of a night had she had? Fucked by the BF? I imagined her naked under his touch, his cock inside her, screwing her hard, screwing the anger out of his system wondering who gave his girl those marks. Has she told him about me? Surely not … I hoped not. She was my guilty pleasure and I wanted to remain hers.
“Okay love,” I shouted back down the stairs, “It should maybe last about an hour.”
“No problem, though you need to have a strong word with whoever organised an MDT Conference call on the 1st of bloody January.” There was a smile in her words, and so I knew that my wife believed me.
A Multi Discipline Team Conference call from the hospital, which I would have to take inside my home office, behind a locked door given the confidential nature of the call content. The perfect excuse to begin my research.
So, what did I know? I knew that I wanted to crucify her. I knew also that I wanted to use nails, at least on her hands, but maybe on her feet too. It was going to take place in those same woods and in the dead of night, most probably in the very early hours of a dark morning.
What did I need to know? Well, I needed to think through and plan the hotel logistics. Getting in and out with her and such like, and then everything that I could possibly find out about how to most effectively crucify a girl.
“… Wounds to the body sends a blood clot to the heart …”
“… Victims died from "hypovolemic shock …"
I knew that this condition sets in when a body has lost so much blood and fluid that the heart can't continue to function. So, this was beginning to sound like I could crucify my Little Girl, and providing I was able to monitor her heart rate and blood pressure, and by doing so ensure that she was not mounted for so long her death throe kicked in, then she could easily survive.
I felt elated.
… and horny. Oh, so horny.
I was erect, a fucking great hard-on pushed at my jeans as I opened another tab to look at pictures of models being crucified … mostly not with nails, but their expressions and stretched bodies were a sexual and erotic delight to behold.
“I am going to make this so hard and so painful for you my sweet Little girl …” I said quietly to myself, but I also knew how much she would love what was being done to her.
But the cross. How would I make or find a cross?
I wouldn’t have the time or logistical possibility to craft an actual cross and then mount it with sufficient stability, and so I would need to improvise.
I wanted a heavy cross beam for her to carry, naked to the place of her crucifixion, which I could easily find and transport with me. But I needed to find a tree that was of appropriate shape and sufficient dimensions to allow me to fix the cross beam, with my Little Girl attached, to it. I would need to visit the woods beforehand and make sure that the scene that I was planning was prepared to perfection.
I had to momentarily close my eyes. In my mind’s eye I could see her, my pain slut, naked, scourged, flesh torn, dripping with blood, eyes wide with fear …
“What I have let him do?” She would whisper to herself loud enough for me to hear, as I positioned and nailed her feet to the rough bark of the tree trunk …
Her head flew back she arched away from the tree as far the long, thick, penetrative sedile would allow and she cried out.
That was it. My shaft was free, in the grip of my fingers and I wanked myself until thick bands of my seed shot high into the air!
Eyes still closed. Fingers lightly gripping my softening cock as shortening rivulets of residual semen oozed from my urethral slit and down over my digits. I gasped for breath, my chest heaving.
My hour was almost up. It would soon be time for lunch … and domestic normality.
But I needed her. I needed her like I had never needed anything before. She would ultimately be my undoing, I knew that. But she was under my skin, that Little Girl, the student from over the Pennines.
I took out mobile and opened up the contact that was known to my phone only as LG. I began to type.
“I need you to suffer for me Little Girl. I need to tear your flesh and open up your body. Send me a date. When can we be together again? xxx”
I pressed SEND just as my wife called out to say that lunch was ready.