Chapter Forty

Shock, horror, guilt, abomination! Fear, fire, foes, awake!

How another line from Tolkien occurred to Karl here was unfathomable to the point of ridiculousness – just like the extent of his stupidity. Then again the old chap did create a pretty phallocentric world. It must have been another of those damn short-circuits, or a cross-wiring. How fucked-up his head truly was had suddenly just became obvious.

Here was the answer to all the riddles, the puzzle he couldn’t bear to solve, and it had been right in front of him the entire time. He’d just refused to consider it. It was too unthinkable, the distillation of his darkest nightmares. Yet the worst part of all, the absolute proof of how messed up he was, was the fact that in the midst of his shattering recognition and rejection his own mad phallus raged ever more insanely. It should be trying to shrivel up inside him and die.

A chafing against his already wet chin and neck made Karl aware he was unconsciously attempting to shake his head, trying to negate everything: the inevitability of this, the complicity of his arousal, the idea that on some level he truly did crave this anathema to everything male, that he was maybe even some kind of closeted-even-from-himself queer (not that there was anything wrong with that – for anyone else). Yet there was no longer any denying it. Some incredibly sick part of him wanted her to ram that thing into his ‘admirably’ trained throat and fuck his face for real. Worse, he wanted her to fuck him in the ass!

Even as he yearned for this, Karl burst into tears.

It was just too much; he couldn’t take this. You could fry an egg on his face and thermo-drill through a glacier with his prick. Then Doreen was there, crouching in front of him to meet him face-to-face. Abysmally horrified and ashamed eyes were captured by ones glamorously lined and shadowed and heavy with mascara. No longer haughty and imperious (but still enlivened by her own excitement, oh yes), that gorgeous countenance was kind. The voice he even heard in his head somehow now spoke out full of gentle understanding.

“I know, darling, It’s hard to face, but it’s the truth. This is what you’ve been holding out for, why you’re still clinging to your guilt.

“Subconsciously you need the very worst punishment you can conceive. That’s why you kept dreaming of being sent to prison, and were unperturbed by the thought of the state home.

“That’s why your toes curl wherever you are penetrated. That’s why you dreamed of me wearing a strap-on the very first night you spent in my bed. You wanted me to take you even then, so you wouldn’t have to get it from someone worse. You still do. It’s me or an endless succession of men, scruffy orderlies, aides, and other patients, take your pick. And that’s why the vibrator and thermometer upset you so much. They urge you toward consummation, they excite and yet ultimately disappoint you, they turn you on terribly while you just can’t accept these things about yourself yet. You still have that macho-asshole teenage locker-room mentality.

“I bet your first thought was that needing to be fucked in the ass makes you gay. That’s truly stupid, darling. Later I’ll explain about pegging, and how millions of perfectly normal couples get off on a little loving swapping of roles now and then. I will teach you that it can be a very enjoyable and therapeutic thing, if done in the right spirit, with the right partner.

“I will dispel all your silly misconceptions, and show you how to use your willing submission to this supposedly most un-masculine of sexual roles to placate the memory of your attitude with Krista. But in the meantime, right now, I’m going to use my own interminably deprived prick to punish you the way you think you deserve.”

Abruptly she stood up, whipped out her tube of lube and began slathering that erection right in front of his face. The ultimate captive audience again, he could only watch her do it.

A strap-on would’ve been bad enough; she looked like a damn hermaphrodite. From the relief of snaking veins to the contoured head and pitted tip, from the delicate shading of changing colors and textures to the seamlessness of its fit, the illusion was nearly perfect. Watching in balls-crawling horror and silently shrieking denial of his need, Karl had time to gibberingly judge the size. It was bigger than the vibrator, bigger than the monster, maybe nine by an inch and a half thick – just about how deep the far skinnier thermometer went.

Of course diameter-wise this was nothing compared to four-fifths of a hand prying boulders out of him, but in the bathroom the sexual component was implied and secondary. Here it was front and center, right in his face and soon his ass. He was about to be fucked here, corn-holed like a squealing little pig!

This was what she meant about being careful what he wished for; this was the only intimacy that awaited the cock-locked chamberpot of Doreen Drake! Despite all her reassurances and the urgency of his own erection, this additional betrayal eviscerated him. Karl suddenly burst into outraged, furious, hysterically ashamed sobs once again as she wiped her hands and strutted dominant and authoritative around to his backside.

It seemed he didn’t need to go to the state home in order to be raped. Someone much closer to him had found his guilt and attractive helplessness too enticing to resist

Forgotten was the offer of breasts if he behaved, and his oft-repeated promise to accept whatever was required to get better with dignity and courage. Disregarded was the strange soothing voice inside reminding him that love and health and inner peace could only be his though unstinting submission to women. The mad battle between self-execration and sexual imperative overwhelmed everything else. Too intense to be controlled, it found outlet in emotional channels long damned: anger and righteous defiance.

Unable to even turn his head, Karl growled rebellion. Inside his mind he rattled his chains, bounced on the balls of his restrained feet and wrestled furiously, if not to escape then to at least advertise his absolute unwillingness.

He might as well have had a zone implant: the connection between his will and his abilities remained stubbornly severed. There was nothing he could do but howl his refusal as his captor squared up behind him and seized his suspended hips.

Snarling through his sobs, suddenly hating the stringy spit it seemed was always running down his front, he screamed out angry gibberish as he felt her slick head probing for him. Cursing his curling toes and monstrous throbbing, feeling shocking stabs of hatred toward the person he cared more about and owed more to than anyone else ever, his outrage was already morphing into impotent fury when she found his entrance as easily as ever. In an extremis of virulent rejection he wrenched his head against the cervical collar, sought to bite through the tempered steel in his teeth and screamed even louder as she shoved her way up into him.

With no preparatory lubing and rubbing, relying only on the thick coat it carried and Nurse Drake’s familiarity with the territory, that first brutal insertion, that definitive defloration, was both instantly suppressed ecstasy and far worse than his worst imaginings.

If he needed atonement here, he was going to get it. This was going to be no loving coupling but the most vicious possible introduction to his newest daily use as his mistress’ omega-bitch sex-slave. She still had months in which to teach him to love it. Now was the time to convince the Krista within that he was finally getting what he deserved.

Feeling big as a bludgeon, hard as a truncheon, Goddess’ pink prick speared in to the root at once. Months of careful training left Karl exquisitely receptive to such a stroke, and while not physically damaging it was infinitely agonizing in a personally impactful way he knew he needed badly immediately. Yet this acknowledgement, and the almost nauseating rush of supreme gratification he felt at losing his anal virginity, were quickly overwhelmed by a resurgence of bitterness and rebellion. As his deflowering proceeded with as little consideration for its therapeutic possibilities as for his volition, excruciation drove out everything but the anger flooding back.

Nurse Drake partially withdrew only to stab savagely back in immediately, then again and again and again in a quickly climbing rhythm. Soon she was driving almost frenetically into him – rather as if she’d been waiting and training months or even years for such an opportunity. For Karl the deeply stabbing agony was so extreme that arousal was no longer a possibility.

This wasn’t a perfectly static thermometer, horribly thrumming vibrator, slippery seductive fingering, bloating hosing or even brief delving and prying, no matter how challenging he found all that. This was an ongoing, cumulative goring of an even more degrading sort: an endlessly escalating, quintessentially emasculating, enormously personal torture that it seemed no medical necessity could possibly excuse. And the more he listened to his so-called lover’s obvious sadistic exhilaration as she subjected him to it, the more his resentment grew.

His body jerked to the rhythm of her hips spanking his badly welted ass. The weights jumped and danced, yanking his screaming nipples every which way. Ropes of dog-like slaver pendulumed from his chin, broke and splashed him. Already badly stressed, his shoulders strained at their sockets with every jerk, every hugely traumatic stab into his carefully prepared ass. No longer erect at all, his limply hanging dick flopped wildly around at the impetus of those frenzied crotch-slaps too. And all the while Doreen panted with mad lust, as if she’d siphoned off and appropriated his to supplement her own. Grunting with urgent effort, keening with unholy excitement, getting all the power she could into each vicious jab of her hips, she sounded more turned on than he’d ever heard her. She wasn’t making those nonsense syllables as she pounded toward orgasm yet, but it was surely only a matter of time.

The thrusting of her cock recoiling against her clit must have been amazingly stimulating. Or the sheer pleasure of putting a male no matter how beloved brutishly in his place must have been more fulfilling than she’d hinted at. Perhaps it was both together. Whatever the case, there was certainly no pretense of professionalism while imparting this punishment. Karl entertained the most heretical of suspicions as he bawled and suffered and listened to his rapist’s unbridled passion escalate. At least there was no cheesy taunting or gloating about her, no exhortations for him to ‘take it’ or anything. They both knew what she was doing to him and how they each felt about it; why waste breath on stupid unnecessary theatrics? Anger and atonement were all. Or the exhilaration of inflicting righteous justice leading up to…

“Uh, uh, uh, da, da, duh, oo, oo, oo, er, er, er…”

The speed and power of her fucking climbed with her drive toward climax. Clearly completely comfortable with and highly accomplished at being the butch, Nurse Drake stab-battered into him until Karl was howling nonstop in his angry, excruciated subjugation.

Soon her peaking screams overtopped him however, and with one last jack-hammering frenzy that seemed to go on interminably she at last fucked his ass to what was unmistakably her most gratifying orgasm of their relationship to date.

Finally, after a last, post-orgasmic succession of especially relishing stabs she withdrew completely for the first time. Disengaging from what she would no doubt start calling his fuck-hole she stepped back, leaving him flaming and sobbing and hating her virulently for what she’d done, and more for the extreme enjoyment she’d ostentatiously taken from it.

“Whew! That was fucking awesome! I’m not going to ask if you enjoyed your first punishment-fuck little slut, because I know you didn’t. You weren’t supposed to. You were supposed to get a first taste of what awaits you every day until you heal, first here and then at the state home if you insist. You were supposed to suffer most appropriately for what you did to Krista. And you’re going to go on suffering for it no matter how much you hate it – or me.

“It’s my responsibility to make you well, and I’m going to do so whatever it takes. Neither your inability to appreciate that or the undeniable fact that fucking you is fantastically rewarding for me can have any bearing on that. Now, I’m going to go have a drink and a quick smoke and then come back here and do it again. In the meantime, you will try to remember your own responsibilities. Listen to the little voice inside telling you to submit, my accomplished young cocksucker. Pay your debt to femininity honorably. The sooner you do, the better it will be for you. Now, can I bring you anything when I return, a drink of your own perhaps?”

As much as Karl needed one – or any relief for his drooling, metal-wedged jaws – he refused to answer. Unable to signal his rebellion in any other way, he closed his eyes and settled on the silent treatment.

“Very well. Someone clearly needs another milking after today’s slut-fucking session is finished. And apparently someone has decided to forgo the delight of my breasts in his face in favor of making a statement. So be it. I’ll see you in a few minutes. And this time I’m really going to pound you into jelly. That first one was just to break you in.”

Nurse Drake tittered naughtily and strode way, spike heels clicking. Karl fumed and sweated and hated both her and himself.

His ass hurt so badly both inside and out! Damn her!

He knew he wasn’t living up to his obligations; that he was putting everything at risk and could be condemning himself to just this and so much worse forever. He just couldn’t help it.

One second of a deeply secret and long-guarded need being ecstatically gratified suddenly being turned into the worst torture of his life had left him too crazed for rationality. Long barricaded floodgates were now open, and the torrents rushing forth would just have to run their course. Eventually he would come to terms with this latest loss and then hopefully repair the damage to both his prospects and their relationship.

Karl was still resentful and unwilling when Nurse Drake strode back in. Resolutely he closed his eyes. He listened to her heels click unhesitating toward him and caught a whiff of mixed weed and champagne.

She’d been celebrating taking his cherry and elevating to do it again. Vitriol boiled and spat inside him. As she took up position behind him again she raised him up just a couple of inches, so that he lost contact with the mat. Gripping his now free-swinging hips, ‘sweet’ Doreen breathed with such refreshed fervor that a black despair tainted his defensive anger.

“Here we go, cocksucker. Time for round two; three, four and five upcoming before we’re done. But hey, at least you don’t have to spend the afternoon alone. Goddess will be with you right up until dinner.”

This time it was even worse.

He knew what to expect; there was no revelatory ecstasy at insertion but only furious degradation and that gored-ass agony. Weeping with shame and despair as well as excruciation and rage, he knew damn well her afternoon buzz would inspire his erstwhile lover to her usual marathon sexual excess. And of course he was right.

Taking advantage of his suspension, Nurse Drake stab-battered him even harder, pulling him back to meet each incoming thrust. Shoulders and back shrilly protesting, he swung and juddered and sobbed nonstop as he was anally raped almost continuously for nearly four hours. And even then the rectal fun wasn’t done.

Snapping a single glove on, Nurse Drake seated herself comfortably on the mat below him. She thrust two fingers into his woefully sore and abraded opening and began rubbing.

Caught between his residual rage and that somehow soothing massage (even after the incredible pounding he’d endured it felt good), Karl wept and moaned and eventually zoned out a little as he was drained of whatever negligible amount of semen and testosterone he’d accumulated in thirty or so hours.

He was marginally aware that she had taken his limp penis in like the udder of a cow and was moaning herself in savor as she imbibed his slow dribbles. Yet at the same time he seemed to hear her voice in a mesmerizing mantra: relax, accept, submit to femininity. By the time the stabbing of a catheter into him yanked him back to full despairing awareness he indeed felt calm again, if no less miserable or more charitable toward his mistress. When she pushed a hugely painful conical plug into his still widely dilated fuck-hole (‘to keep him ready for her’ of course), he wept again but felt only a shadow of his earlier hatred.

Deep in his heart he knew she was doing what she thought best, however much she enjoyed it. That first stab into his ass had also convinced him they were on the right track, however abominably unendurable. While he knew the living Krista would never wish this on him, would be aghast and furious in fact, the one he’d internalized was harder to appease. None of this made Karl forgive or even acknowledge his rapist however, and he remained obdurately silent as she returned him to the bed (sitting on that agonizing plug of course, no doubt packing the shit in harder) for his broccoli-cheese rice casserole dinner.

Karl did his best to make the meal an awkward affair, never raising his sullen gaze or doing more than woodenly accept the spoon or straw. Doreen remained maddeningly unmoved. She ate with her own customary gusto and hummed her seventies Santana. Still wearing that makeup, shiny latex and insidiously exact cock, she touched and ministered to him with the same easy familiarity, as if his antipathy meant nothing to her. Without punishing his rebellion or even acknowledging it she made him feel slightly ashamed of himself in a new way. He worshipped this woman after all. Then after dinner she left him to choose a movie from her collection to watch while she documented the momentous day.

Despite half a dozen separate rapes, Karl was finding it hard to hold onto his anger by the time Doreen put him in bed, especially when she when she removed the impaling Foley and rolled a condom cath on for the night. All that changed when she joined him however.

Emerging from the bathroom in her gown, he groaned miserably as he saw the front of this tented out by another cock. As she climbed on the bed the hem rode up, revealing another upsettingly hermaphroditic picture.

Though this phallus wasn’t deliberately realistic like the other (being too curved and slim, the head too bulbous and ovoid), it reared up from her crotch without any straps or other means of support. Seeing his mix of misery and appalled perplexity, Doreen smiled her special smile.

“Little slut, I’d like you to meet the famous feeldoe. She’s certainly eager to make your acquaintance. You see, this penis has an inner extension, so that my pussy holds it beautifully in place on its own. Doesn’t it look like it’s actually a part of me? Too bad they don’t make them bigger and more natural-looking. But the vaginal probe more than makes up for that.

“The nubbled saddle rocks on my clit when I thrust, and the inner bulb pushes on my g-spot. That gives me orgasms galore and a constant incentive to fuck harder. So my honored slave, delighted to serve me for all eternity, let’s have sex!”

She rolled him onto his belly, onto a pillow placed to elevate his hips. Not even bothering with bondage, she spread his legs, pulled the plug with a brusque, tearing agony and took him again, twisting his arms behind his back in a wrestling hold while she used him as uncompromisingly as ever.

Biting a fold of the coverlet to stifle his grunts and sobs in humiliatingly clichéd fashion, Karl’s tears of pain, shame, and yes renewed hatred and rage scalded his face. Scalp tingling in ignominy, toes curling unconsciously, he was pinned to the mattress and pounded for yet another hour before his mistress had her fill of him. But finally she climbed off.

“Remember the lesson, little slut. It’ll be filthy disreputable men doing this in three months. You’ll be lucky not to get AIDS within a decade. I’m going to leave you on your belly so your backside heals. I’m also going to leave you untied. Don’t like being fucked in the butt? Get up and walk out of here then. Otherwise, fiddle-dee-dee, tomorrow’s another day.” She actually kissed him on the temple. “Good night, darling.”