Lindas' Rack

[linda r]

HA! I love you guys!

 

[linda r]

Chapter III
( Doing the bare foot two-step…)​

“MMMMMUUUUUUPPPHHHH!!!!...MMMMMUUUUPPPPHHH!!!!.... MMMMUUUPPPPHHH!!!...AAAAHHHHHHH!!!...oh,god…oh, god…oh,god…” Was all Linda could muster as Chris pulled his still pulsing errection out of her mouth. She felt like she had swallowed a lake. She looked up at him, who was still kneeling above her, his cock dangling inches above her face.
“Could I have a drink of water, please?” Came her tiny voice.
He looked around for the source of voice. “What..?” He panted, then looking down. “Oh! Yes…of course…”
He climbed carefully off the rack, zipped up, and released some tension the ropes again. Then he retrieved a bottle of water from their basement fridge. Sitting on the edge next to her, he delicately let Linda sip from the bottle while he held her head up for her. When she was done, she put her head down again.
“How do you feel?” He asked, tenderly stroking her sweat-matted hair.
“I could use another shower.”
“I’m sure.” He said with a smile.
“Well…?” She said, after a moment.
He looked over at the clock, “It’s only just past three! The night is young, and so are we!” Then, he leaned over and whispered. “Besides, I’m not finished…punishing you yet.”
“I’m sure.” She said with a smile. “And I’ve been such a naughty girl too!” she added, wriggling in mock dismay.
“Yes in-deedly-doo!” He replied; as he pressed the ice-cold bottle of water between her significantly spread legs.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH, HHHAAHH, HHHAAHH!!!!” She gasped. “You’re turning out, ha-ahh…to be quite the little, hhhaaahh…sadist!”“Famous for it.” He said, revolving the bottle. “They say the most important skill a torturer can learn, is to gauge the limits of those they practice their arts on.” He inserted the icy bottles’ neck into her vagina.
“AAAAHHH! Who says?”
“’The Torturers’ Apprentice’ by Prof. J. Pinkerton Snoopington.”
“WWHHOOOOO! Whhoo, whhooo…! Who?”
“Foremost authority on torture. I’ll show you the book; I’ve had it since I was fifteen.” He started to twist the bottle.
“Aahhh…hhaa, haa…Christmas present?” She said, wryly.
He laughed. “A used book store in New York City.”
“AAH-HHHA! I’ll bet the pages are still stuck together!”
“Har-de-har-har…” He said, pushing the frigid bottle deeper into her.
“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAA!!!” was her only reply.
After a minute or so, he slowly extracted the bottle and then turned, facing the stocks. He dug out the key to the padlock, and unlocked it. He grasped the long metal handle, and raised the top, releasing Linda’s feet. “Out, out: Brief candle!”
“Ohhh, it feels good to bend again!” She said, pulling her knees up, and rocking them from side to side.
“Not for long.” He said, as he pointed to the center holes of the silently waiting stocks.
“You know…” She giggled, lifting her shapely legs straight up. “I think they’re a bit…longer!”
Linda opened her legs, and looked through them at Chris, who had been busy looking at her at very pink, delightfully exposed vagina. She smirked, and extended her legs toward her leering husband, suspending her bare, size nine-and-a-half feet scant inches away from his face. “Longer, don’t you…agree?” She said, slowly sliding them back and forth over each other. “What are you looking at…?” She added, teasingly making circles in the air. “My feet…? My…bare…feet…? My…big…bare…feet?”
He didn’t answer. She could see that he was mesmerized by their movements.
“You like my feet bare, don’t you…?” She said in a low, sultry tone. “My big, soft, bare feet playing with your hard, pulsing cock…!”
“I love your big, soft, bare feet!!” He barely answered. “They’re soooooo ss-ss-oft!”
“I put moisturizing cream…all over them…every night!” She purred. “Do you want to put…cream…all over them?”
She lowered them, pressing against his cock. “Ooooooo…is somebody still…awake?” She said, playfully.
His eyes closed, and his breathing became shallower as she slowly rubbed his growing errection up and down with her heels.
He pressed against her, getting more aroused by the second. “Mmmmm, I like that!” He said dreamily.
Using her toes like fingers, she gripped the waistband of his jeans, and unfastened the top button. She then pulled them opened, and slid her feet inside, sandwiching his cock between her long, soft, silky-smooth soles.
“Mmmmm, I like it when you go…commando…and you are awake, aren’t you?” She said, clearly impressed.
“We aim to please.” He said, still pulsing.
She was tickling his cock with her nimble toes, pinching the head, getting him even harder. “Do you like them now?”
“OHHHH…OHHHHH…OOOHHHHHHHH…YESSSSSS!” He moaned, as she shifted her feet to a different position.
She began to stroke him again; “Is this better?” She cooed. “More…stimulating…?”
“Yes! Oh, yes!!!” He gulped dryly.
One of Linda’s feet were pressed against the outside part of his cock, holding it steady, while the top of the other was sliding up and down the underside of his shaft, flicking at that hyper sensitive spot just under the lip of the head.
“Is this the right spot?”
“OOOOHHHHHHHHH…!!!!!” Was Chris’s agonizing reply.
Linda could see that he was almost there, he just needed a little ‘push’. Then she pulled her feet away, and crossed her ankles, miming that they were tied up; flexing and spreading her long, tantalizing toes while making tiny mewling sounds.
“Do you like them…tied up?” “Oh, yess!”
She resumed her stroking. “Or better still; my bare feet locked tightly in your stocks!”“Yes…!”
She increased the speed of her stroking, her feet gripping his rod like a hand. “My pale, pink feet sticking out of the dark, hard wood…!”“Yes…!!”
“My painted toes writhing and squirming…”
“YES…!”
“Helpless…and at your mercy…!”
“YYYYYYESSSS!!!”
She stopped.
“All done…!” She said in a sing-song manner. She swiftly removed her feet, resting them on the rack bed.
“Ohhhhh, Christ!” He moaned. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…! I was almost there!!!” “Its torture, ain’t it?” She said simply.
“You’re such a teeeeeeassse!”
“Famous for it.”
“Ohhhhhh…Ooooohhhhh…boy, are you gonna get it!.” He said, trying to recover.
“I hope so.” She retorted, sticking her tongue out at him.
“Don’t stick that tongue out at me, young lady, unless you plan to use it!”
He seized her big toes, and pulled her legs straight out, pressing them into the center notches of the stocks. Then, he clamped the dark, sinister wood tightly around her slender ankles, and re-locked the padlock.
He walked to the head of the rack, and turning the crank swiftly, took up what little slack there was in the ropes that held her wrists. “Now we’ll see, me proud beauty!” He chortled, using his best pirate voice.
The racks heavy wooden frame creaked, as the crank slowly rotated the gears on the large drum, winding the heavy ropes once more around its impressive girth, pulling her wrists toward it, while her feet remained anchored, side by side, in the stocks merciless embrace.
“Now, what have you got to say for yourself?” He taunted, as he mercilessly stretched her body tighter and tighter.
Again, Linda felt her spine begin to extend, her breasts lifting, her belly hollowing, and armpits and ribcage exposed. But most acutely of all was her sense of helplessness, which grew with each turn of the crank.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhh! HHAAAA!! HHAAAA! HHAAAA!!!” Was her excruciating reply.
“I’ve heard that before!” He said, with mock indignance, continuing the drums malevolent movement, intensifying his arousal at
the sight of her writhing agony.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! !!!!!!!” She finally screamed, the most piercing of all; the pain flashing from her forearms to her chest.

 

[linda r]

Chris stopped cranking. “There. That’s about where you were before.”, and walked a few steps to the ‘cleaned but not folded’ laundry basket where he retrieved a pair of white socks, and an old ACE bandage. He sat down next to Linda’s superbly stretched, supine form.
“What’re you going to do with those?” She panted, eyeing them suspiciously.
“This will keep the screaming down…a bit.” He said. “Open wide!”
“BUT…” She started to say, but it was too late. Steve had deftly inserted the rolled up sock ball into Linda’s open mouth. He then quickly wound the wide, soft, elastic bandage several times around her mouth and the back of her neck, effectively silencing her.
“Now, let’s make sure that you can’t go anywhere!”
She tried futilely screaming through the gag as her body was stretched further. This arrested her struggling, but not her breathless cries as he returned, only to torment her helpless, magnificent breasts; gleefully spanking, pinching and rapidly flicking her sore, swollen nipples with his fingers, then sucking greedily as a child on them; nipping and pulling them with his teeth.
“NNNNNUUUHH! NNNNUHH! CREEEESHHENNN! NNNNUHHHHHH!’ she pleaded through the gag.
He finally moved his attention, once again, to the hollow, smooth flesh of her exposed armpits, where his fingers took delight in digging into their softness; working their way down her ribs, causing her to howl and whip her head back and forth in desperate negatation. He continued torturing her in this manner for what seemed to Linda like hours, ignoring her pleas for mercy. Gasping and crying through the gag, soaking with sweat, she begged him to stop the merciless tickling, tears rolling down her cheeks, a pleading look in her water-bright eyes.
Chris looked up at the clock and mused; “Hmmmm, four fifteen. I know what I can do to you next!” She was still whimpering when he returned from his workbench with two long lengths of thin cord. “Just a little fishing line is all I need.” He said, smiling wickedly, and tied a slipknot in each; attaching them around her thick, tingling nipples. He saw the apprehension in her eyes when he looped both cords around a pipe in the ceiling directly above her, then ran them a short distance over her head, to another pipe over the utility sink against the opposite wall. Linda craned her neck in vain, trying to see over the drum of the rack.
“In case you’re wondering,” He called over his shoulder, “I am about to put my engineering degree to work!”
“MMMMMMMPPHHHH!!! MMMUUPPHHH!!” Was the only sound Linda could make.
She stared at the cords tied to her nipples with a mix of dread and fascination as he took the plastic utility pail she used to wash the floors with, and attached both cords to its sturdy handle. He then released the pail, which swung free about halfway into the sink, just below the faucet; its light weight pulling on the cords, which in turn pulled on her nipples, stretching them slightly.
Linda flinched at first, then thought, “This isn’t so bad….”
“And now for the final touch!” His voice said triumphantly, as she heard the familiar squeak of the faucet, and the sound of the water hitting the bottom of the pail. She felt the cords pull on her nipples, and her eyes opened at the realization that the more the pail filled with water, the heavier it became, and the more her breasts would be stretched. Then she heard him adjust the waters flow to a trickle. “We don’t want to fill it up all at once.” He called, as he approached; then bending low, whispered in Linda’s’ ear, “We want it nice and slow and agonizing.”
She started to feel the cords do their malevolent duty, pulling on her nipples, stretching them straight up towards the ceiling. “…oooooooohhhhhhhhh…” was her only feeble attempt to moan.
She had no breath left in her. Sweat rolled down her face, stinging her eyes, and mingling with the tears caused by torment of the last nightmarish hour. As her aching breasts were painfully lengthened inch by inch by the slow, relentless trickle of the faucet, and despite the dull pain in her arms and hips, she had become aware of a renewed moistness between her legs.
“I still can’t believe I’m getting off on this!” She thought, wondering at the limits of her own newly found masochism.
As if by telepathy, Christian reached over and started massaging her clitoris. She trembled at his touch.
“Ooooooo…is somebody still…awake?” He said, rubbing the little tender nub faster.
He rubbed her to climax, pinching her between his fingers at the apex of her orgasm. She shuddered, but could only manage to release a short groan in response.
“Hmmmm…” he thought. “Not enough of a reaction.” He walked to his workbench, and rummaged through several drawers. Linda’s chest was still heaving, and tears were rolling down her cheeks when she heard him exclaim “AHA! This will do the trick!”
“Oh, no!” she thought desperately, “What has he found now!”
She found out soon enough, as Chris came elatedly back with what looked like two metal toothbrushes. “What the hell…?” She thought, but the curious look in her eyes gave way to terror as she realized what they were, and they weren’t toothbrushes.
“OHHH!!! NUT OSSSS!!” She squeaked, and a quiver ran through her as he held up the two instruments.
“Recognize these, my luscious love?”
She did; in fact, she thought that she threw them away months ago, and whimpered at their recognition.
“A ‘Wartenburg Wheel’, also called a ‘Nerve Wheel’ by physicians.” He said matter of factly. “A simple device, really.”
He held up two small, sharply spiked tracing wheels, each set into separate wooden handles. “You used to use them for tracing patterns when you were sewing, right?” He took the wheels, and gave them a test spin, making sure they rotated freely, then pressed their sharp teeth it into the tender flesh of her elongated breasts, where he began to roll them up and down their soft, sensitive undersides, and around her swollen aureole.
“EEEEEEEE! EEEEE! EEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEE!” She shrieked through the gag.
The sensation was like a hundred pinpricks traveling through her breasts, as the wheels moved up and down their ever-increasing lengths, which had been due to the weightiness of the pail, making them now look like twin missiles.
After many minutes, the wheels traveled down to her flinching stomach, (where once again her deep navel was “thoroughly explored”), then repeatedly criss-crossed her tremulous thighs. Then the tiny, torturing wheels found her vulva, traveling up and down its swollen outer lips; pricking her with their sharp needles, causing her to repeatedly clench her fingers and toes in involuntary spasms, and gasp in rapid successions.
“NNNNUH! NNNUH! NNNUH! NNNNNUHHHH!” She tried to plead, but the saliva-swollen gag prevented it.
He paused to spread her outer lips with one hand, while thrusting one of the wheels deep within the pink crevice of her exposed vulva, rolling up and down its inner lips, and over her hyper-sensitive clitoris.
“UUNNGH! UUNNGH! UUNGH! UUNGH! UUNNGH!” Grunted Linda as her body convulsed on the rack
Christian watched excitedly as her stomach undulated, the muscles of her thighs rippled, almost like she was dancing, and her stretched breasts quivered like harp strings. Her expressive eyes opened wide with shock as she emitted a long, high-pitched wail as the prickling sensations, like bolts of lightening, caused involuntary spasms to shoot through her body, and her hands to claw helplessly at the empty air. He was about to stop when he realized that she was Cuming! He pressed the wheel in deeper.
She cried out, and then exploded in release with perhaps the deepest orgasm she had ever experienced. She came again and again, as his fingers massaged her throbbing clit, sliding easily around and into her vagina. He held her quivering clit as she calmed down, and her breathing became regular. “WOW!” He exclaimed. “That was a big one!” He then moved to the sink, where the faucet had almost filled the pail to its capacity. “I’d say that’s a good thirty pounds or so!” He shut off the faucet. “Fifteen pounds per tit, as the crow flies…ten pounds as the horse flies!”
Linda could only groan; “Oh, god…not Groucho Marx at a time like this!” She thought; and she chuckled, despite the pain in her severely stretched nipples being almost unbearable.
Chris looked at the clock. “Ok. Five-oh-three. Let’s see…I think one more hour should do it!”
Linda yelped and shook her head vigorously.
“Good! Glad you agree!” He looked down at her, twanging the cords that held her breasts hostage. “Now, what ever can we do for the next hour?” He looked down at her feet sticking out of the stocks. “Ah! Of course!”
Her eyes really opened when he pulled up a stepstool and sat down in front of her feet. “I’ve really been looking forward to tickling these!”
He moves his hands closer, and she began to giggle, flexing and fanning her feet as he nimbly fondles and strokes their soft, sensitive undersides with his fingers, playing her like a musical instrument.
“NNNNUH! NNNUH! NNNUH! NNNNNUHHHH!” She gasped, desperately twitching her feet back and forth in spastic gyrations in order to escape.
“FWWEEEZZE! HAHAHAHAHHA! CREEEESHHENNN!!! HAHHAHAHAHHAHA! FWWEEZZEEE!”
But it only aroused him further, his fingers lightly scratching the softest spot, just under the balls of her feet.
“I never realized how much I loved these feet!” He said, hoarsely, as he tickled them faster and more feverishly, causing her to twist and toss her head in near hysteria.
“An hour!” Screamed Linda inside her head. “Oh, god! Kill me now!”

...to be continued.

 

[Eulalia]

Grannie had one of those spiky-wheeled things for sewing -​

I used to play with it (won't tell you how )​

wonder where it is now? ​

 

[Fantasmo]

I used to play with it (won't tell you how )​

guess how...

 

[admihoek]

Linda

 

[jinrichard]

great ， need hot iron branded， too！ happy ending！

 

[admihoek]

found

 

[shevak2006]

found

A scene at a local bookstore (if they still exist), in the European History section. A nerdy guy approaches a tall, beautiful, busty woman:
"Excuse me miss, may I ask you a ques..."
"Hey, hey, hey! My face is up here! What are you looking at?"
"Sorry, miss! I was just admiring your rack and now I have a...."
"I don't want to know what you 'have', you asshole. And don't call me 'miss'!!! You're a pig! How dare you objectify me! Don't you know a woman is more than just a pair of breas..."
"Hey, no disrespect meant. Honest! I just have a question about your rack..."
"Help, help, I'm being sexually harrassed here!!! Pervert in the store! Get away from me! I'm calling 911 now! Then the ACLU, and NOW, and then..."
"Damn! Would you calm down you silly bitch! I just want to know: is your rack from the 14th or 15th century?"

 

[admihoek]

antiques.....................

 

[admihoek]

more linda's rack 1
next

 

[linda r]

more linda's rack 1
next

Yes...Ron likes 'em big and busty...and stretched!

 

[admihoek]

Yes...Ron likes 'em big and busty...and stretched!

found them in your rackgroup

 

[Eulalia]

Here's a rack clip I'd not seen before -​

the unfortunate victim is clearly suffering horribly,​

having to watch the unspeakable ham-acting by her Torturer!​

​

​

 

[admihoek]

it is a part of Mark of the Devil

 

[Eulalia]

oh no it isn't - I know Mark of the Devil like the back of my hand, as we say .​

(there is a link for a Mark of the D clip at the end of this one)​

 

[admihoek]

oh no it isn't - I know Mark of the Devil like the back of my hand, as we say .​

(there is a link for a Mark of the D clip at the end of this one)​

y're right my dear bard

here some stills I got together with Mark of the devil (total of them is 85)

 

[Eulalia]

yes, MOTD was a classy film, but The Bloody Judge was apparently trash -​

the WIP (Women in Prison) films website is a good source of info and reviews:​

http://wipfilms.net/women-in-captivity-films/the-bloody-judge/​

 

[Eulalia]

to find the rack sequence in Mark of the Devil on YouTube these days​

you have to follow a historically misleading clue to find a Spanish dubbed version -​

but it's still great!​

​

​

the idea that the Inquisition (least of all the Spanish Inquisition)​

spent their time torturing nubile young suspect witches​

is a pleasant fantasy of 20th century cinema -​

they had, as we might say, bigger fish to fry!​

​

 

[admihoek]

and always the same oafs, as torturers