The apartment was quiet, Ben was gone to work and there was no traffic outside. The silence didn'...

She closed her eyes and turned her face upward, letting the cold streams run down over her cheeks and neck, down her body, covering her in gooseflesh from forehead to toe. She stood there for a full ten minutes, shuddering, shaking her head, eyes squeezed tight, trying to get the awful images out of her mind.

The apartment was quiet, Ben was gone to work and there was no traffic outside. The silence didn't help. It made her think of punana in a basement somewhere, blinded by the blackout contact lenses, ears stuffed with wax, bound and helpless, completely cut off from the outside world. Daisy rubbed herself dry with the towel, rubbed hard, harder, felt the harsh cotton against her nipples, her other hand pressing the towel hard against her cunt, rubbing it against her clit like rough sandpaper, grinding, two fingers pushing it directly against the sensitive little nub. She jerked herself back to awareness and threw the towel to the floor. Then, she lowered her head, leaned against the sink and cried.

punana's heart sinks as another day passes without word from its Master. Every morning is the same now, has been for ten days. punana is awakened by a shrill blast of high-pitched screaming, a recording of its own worst moment ever, played at painfully high volume in punana's tiny room. The recording plays a full ten minutes, bouncing and echoing off the walls, drilling itself deep into punana's brain like a thousand sharp needles, stabbing. punana's cunt swells and it plays with itself after the first few minutes, reliving in its mind the painful stretching and twisting of its body that produced the sounds in the first place.

punana wishes its Master would come back and perform the tortures Himself. He has left it at the hands of His Wife and The Doctor, both of who do their best to outdo the other. punana has given itself to its Master completely, though, and realizes that its own wishes meant less than nothing.

punana forms a picture of its Master's Cock in its mind and opens its mouth in a perfect circle, pushes three fingers into its mouth, pushes them deep, imagining them to be Master's cock. When The Doctor opens the door, he finds punana screaming at the top of its lungs, screaming along with the recording, rubbing insanely at its pussy with the palm of its open hands, slapping its cunt with first one hand and then the other, head jerking back and forth, spit flying, spattering against the close walls of the small room. punana slaps, than digs its nails into the flesh between its legs, clutching and clawing, raising bright red welts that stand out even against the blood-flushed labia.

Daisy spread her knees wider, pressed them flat against the bed. As the image of punana danced in her head, she pushed the big Hitachi against her cunt, letting the vibrator do what Ben wouldn't - make her cum to her most depraved fantasies, to the images of herself as punana - the freakish sex-toy she kept begging Peter to write to her about.

Remembering that made her want to cum again. She closed her eyes and thought about her last email to Peter. Against her better judgement, she'd included another photo of herself. She was wearing dark sunglasses and had her face turned just enough to make her comfortable nobody could identify her. She was naked except for a leather miniskirt, her hands raised just enough to cover her nipples, her legs open but the skirt still covering her privates. She couldn't bring herself to send a naked photo, but it turned her on to flirt with the boundaries.

She imagined him opening the mail, imagined him touching his cock while looking at her thighs and belly, imagined him sitting down at his computer to write her yet another chapter in the punana story. The ping-pong game continued - he wrote, she sent him pictures, he wrote some more. She closed her eyes, spread her cunt lips with her fingers, and read more of the new story.

"More, more," it screams to the Doctor, throwing itself at his feet. punana tries to move its arms, wrap them around the Doctor's legs, but the muscles are too weak and they fall limp across his shoes. The Doctor lifts punana's face with his foot, lifts it high, then jerks his foot back. punana's face slams against the floor. its eyes water.

"Come," the Doctor says, turning and walking quickly down the hallway. punana scrambles on its hands and knees, trying to get to its feet, but the spiked heels that have been grafted to its bones make it too difficult. it scrapes its knees along on the tile floor, then across the carpet, feeling the rough fabric ripping at its skin, cunt swelling with arousal even at this small bit of pain.

When punana comes around a corner, following the sound of the Doctor's footsteps, it is suddenly lifted by two pair of hands. it feels itself turned around and then upside down. punana is pressed against two cold metal poles and then wrapped with leather straps around its torso. They are pulled tightly, holding punana in place, its arm and legs dangling free. More hands. punana's arms are pulled backward very hard, its elbows meeting now and pulled even further, the strain in its shoulders unbearable, ropes around the arms securing it from wrist to elbow, knots pulled even tighter, shoulders screaming now. At the same time, more hands have wrapped ropes around its ankles and pressed them tight against its thighs, then pulled backward, pushing punana's crotch forward away from the metal poles, punana waiting to crack like a wishbone. it becomes aware of its own screams slowly, but a single slap to its crotch brings it to arousal and another slap makes it cum. punana jerks against the poles as the open-palm cunt spanking continues, the voices in the room laughing and taunting it, telling it to behave like the animal it is. punana feels things being shoved into its openings now, long, hard, and tapered things. punana can't tell what they are but it doesn't care and it starts fucking them as best it can in its bonds.

Then, it all stops. punana moans and begs to be touched but nobody responds. The room has gone silent. punana doesn't know what to expect next so it just keeps begging "touch me, fuck me, hurt me" over and over.

Daisy's body shook as she came again.

"Enough!" she said, turning off the vibrator. She looked at the clock. It was almost nine. Nobody watched her at work, she could come and go as she pleased, but she was getting worried that punana was taking over her life. Twice this month, she'd taken off an entire day and stayed home to masturbate to the stories. The second time, she'd even done her own body modification. She'd duct taped wooden dowels to her calves to pretend they were the stiletto implants. She'd taped her ears flat against her head and fashioned stretchers for her nostrils to get some tiny, tiny feeling of what her character was going through. She's even gone as far as to sneak into an adult bookstore and buy one of the big, thick, black dildoes she'd seen on so many websites and could pretend was one of Patricia's horses. She'd locked the doors (even dead bolted them just in case Ben came home early), blindfolded herself, and crawled around the house naked, pretending to be punana, pretending to be blinded by those blackout lenses, pretending to be sniffing around for "it's Master".

Today, she wanted to prove she was stronger than her obsession, stronger than her own urges. She'd read his email - the latest punana story he posted - and allowed herself to masturbate, but then, she'd taken that cold, cold shower. It had helped. But she'd masturbated again and now it was time to prove she was in control.

Daisy got up and put the vibrator away in her bottom drawer. She made the bed, smoothing out the sheets she and Ben would be sleeping on later. Or making love. If she was lucky.

She looked in the closet and selected a pleasant outfit for the office, professional looking but still feminine and attractive. Then, she opened her underwear drawer and looked down. Right on top was a navy blue pair of boyshorts. Peter liked those. They had a two inch lace decoration around the bottom, she remembered him running his fingers along her skin underneath her skirt, her cunt getting soaked, her eyes closed. The first time she'd let him touch her, back in Las Vegas. She closed her eyes and thought of his mouth on hers, then, without a word, how his hand went to her nipple and started pinching. He'd established his control over her that quickly and calmly, without a word, with just that simple gesture of ownership. She slammed the drawer shut and ran back to the desk, sat down with her legs splayed open and read more of the story.

punana screamed as a wooden ruler smacked the undersides of its huge titties. It hit punana again and again, two dozen times in half as many seconds. Then a second one was added along the inside of its left thigh, and a third on its right. More came down on its belly and then they were everywhere, the sound echoing through the room, punana's body on fire, its moans betraying its arousal. A strong hand pulled at its ankles then it felt the bite of a belt smacking its cunt. Whoever was swinging it wasn't holding anything back, the leather landed dead-center every time, pounding at its cunt lips and swollen clitoris. Fingers were holding its lips open now and it heard the sickening sound of the leather beating its soaking damp pussy.

After several minutes, they all stopped again and punana heard itself begging for more. "More" was quick in coming. punana felt fingers pulling at its nipples, stretching them, then clamping something around them that bit hard with didn't cut the flesh. More metal against punana's titties, then pressure. The devices were stretching its nipples. It had felt this before and it scared punana. The pleasure/pain of the nipple stretching were confusing and punana was terrified. A hand started massaging punana's cunt and it started moaning. The nipple stretchers were relentless, the pain shot through its body but it kept cumming, muttering incoherently now, the pain washing over it and arousing it, cum squirting into the air and running down the front of its body, slicking its belly and titties while the stretchers pulled harshly at its nipple flesh. It felt something sliding into its ass and groaned. They were taking their pleasure now, fucking punana's ass. punana closed its eyes, it was useful now and it felt fulfilled.

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