He said he had an amputation fetish. He said he liked to imagine what it would be like to be nothing but a head and torso, powerless to stop what a larger man would do to him. He said he was tired imagining, but obviously he didn't want to actually lose any limbs...not when he worked so hard to grow his bicepses into a lean 16” around with legs proportionately thick with muscle. In one photo he sent, a thick vein snaked over the top of one biceps and across his thick forearms, webbed with other veins. I could almost taste it.
He said he wasn't a pain pig, and of course I told him I wasn't interested in inflicting pain. We would stick to immobility, maybe escalate things in the future once we knew his limits. I told him there might be discomfort associated with that, like any work out. He consented to that, saying we'd draw it out over a couple meetings, assuming we had chemistry the first time.
Of course, there would only be the once, and it would be the most agonizing experience of his life, but he didn't need to know that.
And there he was in front of me in my cellar, at the center of the room below a suspension cable that ran to a motorized wench in the ceiling. He'd be dangling from it soon enough, in several awkward positions, but he was already flying a little high on a little GHB. (He had taken it willingly to enhance the experience.)
He had told me his name as he stripped: Louis. He didn't look like a Louis to me, so I just told him I'd call him Amp (short for amputee, naturally), and I could see even just the mention of it made his hard, thick dick twitch. It was a modest 5 inches, but it looked a little smaller on a guy with his frame: 6', roughly 180 pounds of lean muscle, thick chest, really solid torso with deep cum gutters tapering down to his cock, tapering down from wide lats and shoulders like boulders that suspended his impressive arms. His bare physique was now enhanced by a simple harness I had strapped across his chest. At center, right at the sternum beneath the deep cleave in his pecs, a thick strap dangled a steel ring. I'd be using that just a little later.
I moved behind him, pressing my own hubcap pecs into his back, allowing our deep breaths to synchronize. I brushed my stubbled chin against his neck and felt him shudder. His hands crept back and stroked my flanks. “Now now. Keep your hands to yourself, Amp. Remember, you don't have those tonight.” His arms went limp at his side and he shuddered again, taking a deep breath. “Spread your legs a little. It's time to make sure you can't use your legs too much either, you limbless fuckdoll.”
He complied immediately.
“Stay right there,” I said, and went to a table to grab a spreader bar. Kneeling down, I secured it with straps around each ankle, pulling them tight to make sure he wasn't getting out of them. At the center of the bar was an eye ring in which I had already inserted a cable carabiner. The cable trailed behind him. He didn't see it and he wouldn't know its purpose until it was far too late.
“Now for those arms. You ready, Amp?”
“Yes, sir,” he woofed. I hadn't told him to call me sir, but I appreciated his deference. He would be calling me worse by the end of this.
I retrieved from a nearby bench the leather armbinders They were laced and ready to go. “Hands behind your back, Amp.” He thrust his thick arms back at me and I guided them slowly into the sheathes, completely covering them up to the base of his sinuous, bulging tricep. I buckled the binders around the shoulders to make sure they stayed in place before I started tightening them, tugging the laces tighter at the wrists, then up the forearms, up to the top. Amp puffed out his chest and his back settled into python-like bulges as I cinched things tighter, starting at the bottom again, all the way up. He was already breaking into a light sweat and panting. This was just the start of the discomfort he was promised.
I leaned against him and moved my hands across his chest and abs, enjoying the hard smoothness as a contrast to my own furrier front. He was still in his early twenties, and maybe he'd be a little more hirsute in later years. We'll never know.
“How's that feel, man?”
He cooed. “Feels good, sir. I mean, it is a little uncomfortable, but I can take it. I'm just glad I'm here and finally doing this.”
“You ready to show your gratitude, you little fuckdoll?” I slid one hand around his dripping erection and another down the cleft of his bubble butt, easily sliding one digit into his moist pucker.
“Yes, sir,” he panted, suddenly breathless at being reduced to a mere instrument of my pleasure. “I'm your fuckdoll. Use me, sir.”
I had told him to come completely cleaned out, and he had obliged. I had not told him to come pre-lubed, but he had, and this annoyed me. I was looking forward to going in dry, ripping him a new one from the start. Can't have everything, I guess, and having a self-delivered fuckdoll to torture and snuff was still fairly miraculous.
Still, I'd make sure he suffered for the presumption.
First, I told him to stand still while I lowered the suspension cable. I could tell he wanted to turn and see what was making the noise, but the spreader bar was keeping him in place and he was still, at heart, an obedient little cockpig.
“This will help you keep your balance while I bust that hole open.” I could hear him swallow hard as I threaded the cable through three rings between his arms, starting from the bottom and working up, fastening it to the last. With one hand, I slowly winched his arms up while I worked his hole open with the other. I could feel it clamp around my two fingers as the tension in his shoulders built. He was forced to bend at the waist, further and further, grunting and muttering little incoherent protests as he relied on his arms and legs to maintain some balance. When I stopped, his body formed two right angles, with his arms behind him and perpendicular to his torso, all tilted back slightly to the hips, where his spread legs leaned toward the floor. His feet were scrabbling slightly, the high arches flexing to grip the smooth concrete growing slick with sweat beneath his soles.
“S-sir...This is...ah...this is really uncomfortable. I don't think I can hold this—”
“Sh-sh-shhhhh...” I said and leaned against him, setting aside the remote and wrapping one arm around his waist as I drove my broad cock up between his crack. “I got ya, Amp. I'll give you something to lean onto.” My pelvis pumped, sliding the cock along his thick chute. The way he grunted and gasped and flexed, I could tell he was not fully convinced (nor should he have been), but his need and subservience was keeping him quiet.
I leaned back and felt him buckle a bit at the sudden loss of support. I could hear the leather around his arms and chest creak as his shoulders strained further. He gasped, but before he could say anything more I had driven seven inches of meat into his tight little hole.
He was no virgin, for sure, and he had been lubed and a little stretched, but he was still ill-prepared to be skewered like that. He shrieked and thrashed a bit, so I grabbed a handful of his short, hair and yanked him around until he was still but breathing shallowly and making pained noises.
“Fuck, it hurts.” He squeaked. “Fuck. You asshole. You fucking asshole.”
I yanked hard again and he gurgled. “What happened to 'sir,' you little fuck pig? What happened to my obedient little fuckdoll?”
“I said I'm not into pain, and you're fucking ripping my asshole to shred, you motherfucker,” he snarled with a foam of spit on his lips. I leaned around so we could lock eyes. His clear hazel peepers were rimmed red and starting to glaze with tears. I watched his face contort as I fucked harder, smashing my pelvis into his spread, bleeding ass with all the power my own stacked legs could muster at this angle.
“Fuckdolls don't say anything,” I said with a smile, and bit my lip as I drove in balls deep and ground against him for a bit. “Fuckdolls get used and thrown out.”
He spat into my face. Thick drool slid over my nose, across my lips. I smiled again and licked it up. I never minded sucking another man's spit. I didn't even mind the disrespect, knowing this was the only protest he could muster. I liked the fight. After letting his drool mingle with a pool of my own, I blew it all back into his face, hitting him right in the eye, he flinched and then screamed and tried to shake his head to clear it from his reddening eye, but my grip on his scalp just tightened. His light brown hair was now blackish with sweat, slick, but son entwined around my fingers it wasn't going anywhere.
“Let me get that for you,” I said, then leaned in and started tonguing and sucking the drool off his face. When I had collected it all, I released his scalp and used both hands to wrench his jaw open to face me, then blew the white wad of thick foam into the back of his throat. He gagged and spluttered and tried to shut his jaw. I could see tongue and uvular writhe as he tried to expel the slime.
“Swallow it, fuckdoll,” I commanded. He resisted, but when he began to choke on it, he swallowed involuntarily and then gasped as I released his head and used both hands to grip his hips and wallop his ass with an open palm for the next ten minutes, as he started to break down sobbing and I built to my climax.
“Oh, man!” I whooped. “Get your cunt ready. I'm about to shoot a hole through it with his load. Fuck!”
Blinding, orgasmic light washed over me. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six jets blasted into his guts. I spasmed and drove in deep, and held it there. Seven....Eight...Nine... The last three shots belched out more gradually. Number ten poured out loosely as I started to pull my dick out, then slid it back in...out, in, out...churning the cream and making sure it got into every little wound I had made inside him.
“You motherfucker,” he snorted through snot and tears. “You didn't even use a fucking condom?! You trying to poz me up or something, you fucking faggot?!”
“Nah, man. You won't be catching anything from me,” I said cordially and wrapped my arms around his abs, squeezing tight to drive the air out of him while I let my load seep into him around my semi-hard plug. “No need to worry about that.”
“Yea, well you're still gonna fucking rot in prison for this, you fucking asshole. I didn't sign up for this. You fucking used me.”
“That's right, fuckdoll.” I said, and punched him in the right kidney. “I fucking used you like you are meant to be used. But I'm not even done. Not nearly. You keep thinking about hauling me in before a judge. But I'm the hangman here, Amp. The world you knew is over. All you will know now is a world of pain.”
I could feel his heart quicken and his breath grow shallow. “What the fuck are you talking about, you sick fuck? You aren't getting away with this. World of pain...I'll show you a world of pain!”
Still fighting, even when the facts were becoming plainer by the minute that he was not leaving this room alive. I loved it when they resisted.
I let my dick slip out and I could tell he was going to force my load out, so I was ready with my hands just beneath his puffy, reddened hole. I watched him flex and grunt and a thick blob plopped out along with a thinner, milky stream, puddling in the palm of my hand. Then another gout farted out with a wet, rude noise, splattering across my forearm and wrist before ebbing to a dribble...plop plop plop into my palm.
I stood, keeping the thick pool in my palm.
“Last supper, Amp,” I said as I slammed my palm over his open mouth and used my other hand to cover his nose. He twisted and wretched and I could feel his teeth try to gnaw at the flesh of my palm as he ooze coated his mouth. The lack of oxygen soon caused a panic, though, and he started gulping it down. I watched his eyes dilate and his face redden and let him see me smile before releasing him again.
He was still gasping and retching when I knelt in front of him and pulled the cable of his spreader bar up between his legs. I felt his drool run down the back of my head, and then an intentional splash of spit on my back. It felt kind of good. I stood and looked him square in the eyes as I threaded the cable through the ring in his chest harness and stepped back, starting to tug lightly.
His feet started to slide and his eyes bugged.
“N-n-n-n-n-nononononono!”
I yanked again and his feet slid forward, and his chest stretched as his shoulders began to bear more of his weight. I kept pulling consistently now and with a sudden, agonizing drop his shoulders caught his full weight as his legs were pulled up at his waist toward his chest. Rather than allowing me to add extra torque, I could tell he was using all the strength he had left in his hips and legs to raise them himself as I pulled on them. He was hissing through his teeth with streams of sweat and coursing over his body and spattering the floor below.
“It's...ah...No...pleas, no! You're killing me! You're fucking ripping me apart.”
I shook my head and smirked. “Not even close,” I said and yanked. He was swaying and rotating slightly. I don't think Lou was as much on flexibility as he was on muscle mass, and his legs were now experiencing their own nasty strain. I came closer, still yanking until he was folded almost in half, and then I wound the cable around and around the bar before tying it on, keeping him in a full stretch and suspension.
He was quieter now, struggling to breathe through the strain, weeping quietly, spluttering, “Please...ah...please...it hurts...my arms...I promise...”
I knew he might promise not to tell anyone, but of course it was futile and I think we both knew it. I am sure he thought it couldn't get much worse, too, and it was time to disabuse him of that notion.
I wrapped my hands firmly around the bar and started to sink down, letting my weight drag his feet back down, lifting his bleeding hole back into the air. It reduced the angle of tension on his shoulders, but the weight increase was steady and severe. I could hear things creaking and popping and he gave a guttural, rasping groan.
“NnnnoooooooOOOOOOoooo.”
I let my full weight bear down, then came to rest on my knees and started pumping the bar up and down like a lat pull. My little fuckdoll had become a mediocre weight machine. I was giggling and enjoying the pump swelling my back and arms a little. Then released him, letting him swing back down, his shoulder twisted back up painfully. Kneeling beneath him, I could admire how all his musculature was stretched into high relief. A regular shower of sweat was anointing my head and chest. It was a beautiful moment, and I allowed myself to savor it before the next phase.
First I tried to grab him by his hips, but they were too slick with sweat to get a solid grip, so I got up and stood behind him, getting a firm grip on the harness at his back. Lou (Amp, fuckdoll, whatever) was clearly delirious, I don't think he knew what was coming, and I decided to make it a surprise. I gripped tight and with a light leap swung my legs up, and then suddenly my full weight was pulling him down from the back, driving his hips down, his legs up, and his shoulders straight up in a sort of strappado.
I didn't expect it to be so instantaneously effective. But then I hear a pair of snaps and cracks as his shoulder joint completely separated, ripping the ligament apart and stretching the flesh nearly to the point of tearing as now nothing but muscle suspended his torso and (for a moment) my hole body, before my ass hit the ground and my little fuckdoll passed out.
I stood and admired by handiwork. His legs and head tilted up slightly as the weight of his meaty ass and torso bobbed lower, all suspended by those formerly glorious arms. Massive bruises were already darkened the skin around the shoulders, into his pits and creeping up into the sheathes overhead. Beautiful. I started undoing the cable and let his legs drop slowly, unfolding him to reveal just how much he had been stretched by the dislocation. His arms were pressed flush against the side of his skull and his wide lats seemed to have shrunk a bit as the flesh of his back was also drawn upward. He still had beautiful, deep armpits between those muscles and his thick pecs, still bound in the harness and rising and falling shallowly. They seemed a perfect way to rouse him.
I gave a solid hook punch into his right arm pit. His body shook and the eyes fluttered. Another hook to the left pit, already turning purple, brought a wheezing gasp out of him and his bloodshot eyes popped open. His legs thrashed a little as he twisted at the hips, an involuntary, instinctive attempt at escape that only put further strain on his shredded arms.
I mean...I'm sure Amp had referred to his arms as shredded before, but not like this.
While he got his bearings, I went a got a mirror, and held it up to him at a distance.
“So, Amp. Looks like you really are almost just a torso. It's a dream come true.”
His bleary eyes struggled to focus. I could see him scanning his own image in disbelief and then try to turn his head and see the damage to his cut arms with his own eyes, but it hurt to even turn his head against them and so he quickly gave up and feel too weeping again.
“You fucking ruined me, man... You fucking ruined me...”
Deep sobs. The more he sobbed, the more it hurt, but he couldn't help himself.
I propped the mirror on a stand in front of him and picked up the remote, lowering the cable. The tension ceased a little, but he was struggling to stand on his legs, which had suffered their own stretching tearing, and were weak from the pain that filled filled his body. The arms just sort of collapsed behind him as the cable lowered until once again the bound hands were resting against his ass, lower than they had been before. As I undid his armbinders, I admired the hematomas that spread across his back like vestigial black wings. When the binders were removed completely, the arms just flopped limply to his side...like some other vestigial appendage.
“You're still a real beauty, Amp,” I said and gave one shoulder a slap. The pain caused his knees to buckle and I had to grab him around the waist to keep him from keeling forward. My dick was back in his crack again, dying to plug him, but I had one more preparation to make before I could get to that. He was gazing blankly at his own image still and, I think, glimpsing me changing out the configuration of the suspension cable into a noose. We looked into each other's eyes through our reflections in the mirror as I slipped it over his head. “And this is going to be the most beautiful moment of the night. It will be agony, but it will also be your release.” I kissed the nape of his neck lightly, licked it, tasting his sweat. He didn't even flinch. This was the eye of the storm for him.
I pulled a bench up behind him and positioned myself with my cock aimed up at his ass. There was still plenty of slack in in cable, so when I suddenly pulled him down onto my lap, he wasn't really choked, though the cable did bite a little deeper and the movement of his head was restricted. I could see his eyes bulging a little again. He started to say something, but I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed, so only magnificent scream emerged from his mouth. While he dealt with the shock of that, I worked the remote to take the slack out of the cable until he was just slightly suspended by his neck. The spread bar clanged on the concrete as he kicked in vain. His asshole was burping up the last traces of my first load onto my thighs. It was time to fill him up again. I had to use both hands to maneuver him up and then back down onto my dick, so he was firmly impaled. Through his strained throat, another defeated moan rasped out.
I used my hands to pull him up and down onto my dick for the first few minutes, churning his guts as they tightened repeatedly. Each time I pulled down, his throat was constricted, and his asshole responded in kind. It was a marvelous synchrony that had me on edge the whole time. I knew how to show restraint, however, and I even upped the intensity by grabbing the remote and hoisting him further by his neck.
I could here Amp start to choke and sputter as his throat closed. Instead of manipulating him up and down, I grabbed his arms and just pulled and I pumped my cock up and down into his spasming hole. His legs were still flailing, which was a good sign that the ride wasn't to end too soon. But after a few minutes, they were slowing down. I contorted slightly to see my fuckdoll's face in the mirror.
It was darkening and livid, but a little air was still getting in and out. I'm sure the brain was already starting to expire from lack of oxygen. The formerly hazel eyes were awash with the red of burst capillaries. The lips were deep blue and the tongue was starting to protrude. Things were definitely coming to an end.
I stopped holding back. My pace quickened. My grip tightened. The fuckdoll started spasming again as the noose dug into his neck and completely shut off all oxygen. The face quickly blackened and blood began to pour from the nose over the swelling tongue. I the chest heaved pointlessly, burning with a need for oxygen as the brain started to burn away in its airless little cell.
And oh my fucking god how that beautiful ass danced and milked my cock with every last muscle.
The white light overtook me again. In my trance, as I shot his innards full of whiteness, I heard my own heart beating, the rush of blood in my veins, and the cracking and popping of bones in my dying fuckdoll. I was still cumming when I felt the life leave Amp, felt his asshole completely relax, bloom open around my cock. Streams of blood tinged spunk flowed over the shaft and across my balls. I shuddered and hissed...that's all I can remember of the moment...the various sensations slowly creeping back into my awareness from the blinding haze of ecstasy.
When I was able to catch my breath, I just sat there for a long time with cock still stirring, half-hard in the cooling guts of Amp. His physical beauty has been nearly obliterated. Even his flawless pecs were mottled with bruises, up across his neck, beneath the blackened mask of his strangled face. But his legs and lower torso were still magnificent. His limp cock dropped between his thighs. I noticed that he had pissed himself at the end...not unexpected.
I wondered how long I could keep him slumped over the bench, ass up and ready to be fucked like the proper doll he was now. I figured in a day or two, things would start to stink, but I could get another night with him, maybe test out new ways of destroying an Amp's cunt for the next time. After all, there was more fresh meat out there, more Amps just waiting to get snuffed, and I needed to stay imaginative.
Not just Amps... Holes, Dumps, Navels, god knows what else. All these various fetishes, all these ways to lose control, all these ways to become a lifeless fuckdoll in my playroom.
He said he wasn't a pain pig, and of course I told him I wasn't interested in inflicting pain. We would stick to immobility, maybe escalate things in the future once we knew his limits. I told him there might be discomfort associated with that, like any work out. He consented to that, saying we'd draw it out over a couple meetings, assuming we had chemistry the first time.
Of course, there would only be the once, and it would be the most agonizing experience of his life, but he didn't need to know that.
And there he was in front of me in my cellar, at the center of the room below a suspension cable that ran to a motorized wench in the ceiling. He'd be dangling from it soon enough, in several awkward positions, but he was already flying a little high on a little GHB. (He had taken it willingly to enhance the experience.)
He had told me his name as he stripped: Louis. He didn't look like a Louis to me, so I just told him I'd call him Amp (short for amputee, naturally), and I could see even just the mention of it made his hard, thick dick twitch. It was a modest 5 inches, but it looked a little smaller on a guy with his frame: 6', roughly 180 pounds of lean muscle, thick chest, really solid torso with deep cum gutters tapering down to his cock, tapering down from wide lats and shoulders like boulders that suspended his impressive arms. His bare physique was now enhanced by a simple harness I had strapped across his chest. At center, right at the sternum beneath the deep cleave in his pecs, a thick strap dangled a steel ring. I'd be using that just a little later.
I moved behind him, pressing my own hubcap pecs into his back, allowing our deep breaths to synchronize. I brushed my stubbled chin against his neck and felt him shudder. His hands crept back and stroked my flanks. “Now now. Keep your hands to yourself, Amp. Remember, you don't have those tonight.” His arms went limp at his side and he shuddered again, taking a deep breath. “Spread your legs a little. It's time to make sure you can't use your legs too much either, you limbless fuckdoll.”
He complied immediately.
“Stay right there,” I said, and went to a table to grab a spreader bar. Kneeling down, I secured it with straps around each ankle, pulling them tight to make sure he wasn't getting out of them. At the center of the bar was an eye ring in which I had already inserted a cable carabiner. The cable trailed behind him. He didn't see it and he wouldn't know its purpose until it was far too late.
“Now for those arms. You ready, Amp?”
“Yes, sir,” he woofed. I hadn't told him to call me sir, but I appreciated his deference. He would be calling me worse by the end of this.
I retrieved from a nearby bench the leather armbinders They were laced and ready to go. “Hands behind your back, Amp.” He thrust his thick arms back at me and I guided them slowly into the sheathes, completely covering them up to the base of his sinuous, bulging tricep. I buckled the binders around the shoulders to make sure they stayed in place before I started tightening them, tugging the laces tighter at the wrists, then up the forearms, up to the top. Amp puffed out his chest and his back settled into python-like bulges as I cinched things tighter, starting at the bottom again, all the way up. He was already breaking into a light sweat and panting. This was just the start of the discomfort he was promised.
I leaned against him and moved my hands across his chest and abs, enjoying the hard smoothness as a contrast to my own furrier front. He was still in his early twenties, and maybe he'd be a little more hirsute in later years. We'll never know.
“How's that feel, man?”
He cooed. “Feels good, sir. I mean, it is a little uncomfortable, but I can take it. I'm just glad I'm here and finally doing this.”
“You ready to show your gratitude, you little fuckdoll?” I slid one hand around his dripping erection and another down the cleft of his bubble butt, easily sliding one digit into his moist pucker.
“Yes, sir,” he panted, suddenly breathless at being reduced to a mere instrument of my pleasure. “I'm your fuckdoll. Use me, sir.”
I had told him to come completely cleaned out, and he had obliged. I had not told him to come pre-lubed, but he had, and this annoyed me. I was looking forward to going in dry, ripping him a new one from the start. Can't have everything, I guess, and having a self-delivered fuckdoll to torture and snuff was still fairly miraculous.
Still, I'd make sure he suffered for the presumption.
First, I told him to stand still while I lowered the suspension cable. I could tell he wanted to turn and see what was making the noise, but the spreader bar was keeping him in place and he was still, at heart, an obedient little cockpig.
“This will help you keep your balance while I bust that hole open.” I could hear him swallow hard as I threaded the cable through three rings between his arms, starting from the bottom and working up, fastening it to the last. With one hand, I slowly winched his arms up while I worked his hole open with the other. I could feel it clamp around my two fingers as the tension in his shoulders built. He was forced to bend at the waist, further and further, grunting and muttering little incoherent protests as he relied on his arms and legs to maintain some balance. When I stopped, his body formed two right angles, with his arms behind him and perpendicular to his torso, all tilted back slightly to the hips, where his spread legs leaned toward the floor. His feet were scrabbling slightly, the high arches flexing to grip the smooth concrete growing slick with sweat beneath his soles.
“S-sir...This is...ah...this is really uncomfortable. I don't think I can hold this—”
“Sh-sh-shhhhh...” I said and leaned against him, setting aside the remote and wrapping one arm around his waist as I drove my broad cock up between his crack. “I got ya, Amp. I'll give you something to lean onto.” My pelvis pumped, sliding the cock along his thick chute. The way he grunted and gasped and flexed, I could tell he was not fully convinced (nor should he have been), but his need and subservience was keeping him quiet.
I leaned back and felt him buckle a bit at the sudden loss of support. I could hear the leather around his arms and chest creak as his shoulders strained further. He gasped, but before he could say anything more I had driven seven inches of meat into his tight little hole.
He was no virgin, for sure, and he had been lubed and a little stretched, but he was still ill-prepared to be skewered like that. He shrieked and thrashed a bit, so I grabbed a handful of his short, hair and yanked him around until he was still but breathing shallowly and making pained noises.
“Fuck, it hurts.” He squeaked. “Fuck. You asshole. You fucking asshole.”
I yanked hard again and he gurgled. “What happened to 'sir,' you little fuck pig? What happened to my obedient little fuckdoll?”
“I said I'm not into pain, and you're fucking ripping my asshole to shred, you motherfucker,” he snarled with a foam of spit on his lips. I leaned around so we could lock eyes. His clear hazel peepers were rimmed red and starting to glaze with tears. I watched his face contort as I fucked harder, smashing my pelvis into his spread, bleeding ass with all the power my own stacked legs could muster at this angle.
“Fuckdolls don't say anything,” I said with a smile, and bit my lip as I drove in balls deep and ground against him for a bit. “Fuckdolls get used and thrown out.”
He spat into my face. Thick drool slid over my nose, across my lips. I smiled again and licked it up. I never minded sucking another man's spit. I didn't even mind the disrespect, knowing this was the only protest he could muster. I liked the fight. After letting his drool mingle with a pool of my own, I blew it all back into his face, hitting him right in the eye, he flinched and then screamed and tried to shake his head to clear it from his reddening eye, but my grip on his scalp just tightened. His light brown hair was now blackish with sweat, slick, but son entwined around my fingers it wasn't going anywhere.
“Let me get that for you,” I said, then leaned in and started tonguing and sucking the drool off his face. When I had collected it all, I released his scalp and used both hands to wrench his jaw open to face me, then blew the white wad of thick foam into the back of his throat. He gagged and spluttered and tried to shut his jaw. I could see tongue and uvular writhe as he tried to expel the slime.
“Swallow it, fuckdoll,” I commanded. He resisted, but when he began to choke on it, he swallowed involuntarily and then gasped as I released his head and used both hands to grip his hips and wallop his ass with an open palm for the next ten minutes, as he started to break down sobbing and I built to my climax.
“Oh, man!” I whooped. “Get your cunt ready. I'm about to shoot a hole through it with his load. Fuck!”
Blinding, orgasmic light washed over me. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six jets blasted into his guts. I spasmed and drove in deep, and held it there. Seven....Eight...Nine... The last three shots belched out more gradually. Number ten poured out loosely as I started to pull my dick out, then slid it back in...out, in, out...churning the cream and making sure it got into every little wound I had made inside him.
“You motherfucker,” he snorted through snot and tears. “You didn't even use a fucking condom?! You trying to poz me up or something, you fucking faggot?!”
“Nah, man. You won't be catching anything from me,” I said cordially and wrapped my arms around his abs, squeezing tight to drive the air out of him while I let my load seep into him around my semi-hard plug. “No need to worry about that.”
“Yea, well you're still gonna fucking rot in prison for this, you fucking asshole. I didn't sign up for this. You fucking used me.”
“That's right, fuckdoll.” I said, and punched him in the right kidney. “I fucking used you like you are meant to be used. But I'm not even done. Not nearly. You keep thinking about hauling me in before a judge. But I'm the hangman here, Amp. The world you knew is over. All you will know now is a world of pain.”
I could feel his heart quicken and his breath grow shallow. “What the fuck are you talking about, you sick fuck? You aren't getting away with this. World of pain...I'll show you a world of pain!”
Still fighting, even when the facts were becoming plainer by the minute that he was not leaving this room alive. I loved it when they resisted.
I let my dick slip out and I could tell he was going to force my load out, so I was ready with my hands just beneath his puffy, reddened hole. I watched him flex and grunt and a thick blob plopped out along with a thinner, milky stream, puddling in the palm of my hand. Then another gout farted out with a wet, rude noise, splattering across my forearm and wrist before ebbing to a dribble...plop plop plop into my palm.
I stood, keeping the thick pool in my palm.
“Last supper, Amp,” I said as I slammed my palm over his open mouth and used my other hand to cover his nose. He twisted and wretched and I could feel his teeth try to gnaw at the flesh of my palm as he ooze coated his mouth. The lack of oxygen soon caused a panic, though, and he started gulping it down. I watched his eyes dilate and his face redden and let him see me smile before releasing him again.
He was still gasping and retching when I knelt in front of him and pulled the cable of his spreader bar up between his legs. I felt his drool run down the back of my head, and then an intentional splash of spit on my back. It felt kind of good. I stood and looked him square in the eyes as I threaded the cable through the ring in his chest harness and stepped back, starting to tug lightly.
His feet started to slide and his eyes bugged.
“N-n-n-n-n-nononononono!”
I yanked again and his feet slid forward, and his chest stretched as his shoulders began to bear more of his weight. I kept pulling consistently now and with a sudden, agonizing drop his shoulders caught his full weight as his legs were pulled up at his waist toward his chest. Rather than allowing me to add extra torque, I could tell he was using all the strength he had left in his hips and legs to raise them himself as I pulled on them. He was hissing through his teeth with streams of sweat and coursing over his body and spattering the floor below.
“It's...ah...No...pleas, no! You're killing me! You're fucking ripping me apart.”
I shook my head and smirked. “Not even close,” I said and yanked. He was swaying and rotating slightly. I don't think Lou was as much on flexibility as he was on muscle mass, and his legs were now experiencing their own nasty strain. I came closer, still yanking until he was folded almost in half, and then I wound the cable around and around the bar before tying it on, keeping him in a full stretch and suspension.
He was quieter now, struggling to breathe through the strain, weeping quietly, spluttering, “Please...ah...please...it hurts...my arms...I promise...”
I knew he might promise not to tell anyone, but of course it was futile and I think we both knew it. I am sure he thought it couldn't get much worse, too, and it was time to disabuse him of that notion.
I wrapped my hands firmly around the bar and started to sink down, letting my weight drag his feet back down, lifting his bleeding hole back into the air. It reduced the angle of tension on his shoulders, but the weight increase was steady and severe. I could hear things creaking and popping and he gave a guttural, rasping groan.
“NnnnoooooooOOOOOOoooo.”
I let my full weight bear down, then came to rest on my knees and started pumping the bar up and down like a lat pull. My little fuckdoll had become a mediocre weight machine. I was giggling and enjoying the pump swelling my back and arms a little. Then released him, letting him swing back down, his shoulder twisted back up painfully. Kneeling beneath him, I could admire how all his musculature was stretched into high relief. A regular shower of sweat was anointing my head and chest. It was a beautiful moment, and I allowed myself to savor it before the next phase.
First I tried to grab him by his hips, but they were too slick with sweat to get a solid grip, so I got up and stood behind him, getting a firm grip on the harness at his back. Lou (Amp, fuckdoll, whatever) was clearly delirious, I don't think he knew what was coming, and I decided to make it a surprise. I gripped tight and with a light leap swung my legs up, and then suddenly my full weight was pulling him down from the back, driving his hips down, his legs up, and his shoulders straight up in a sort of strappado.
I didn't expect it to be so instantaneously effective. But then I hear a pair of snaps and cracks as his shoulder joint completely separated, ripping the ligament apart and stretching the flesh nearly to the point of tearing as now nothing but muscle suspended his torso and (for a moment) my hole body, before my ass hit the ground and my little fuckdoll passed out.
I stood and admired by handiwork. His legs and head tilted up slightly as the weight of his meaty ass and torso bobbed lower, all suspended by those formerly glorious arms. Massive bruises were already darkened the skin around the shoulders, into his pits and creeping up into the sheathes overhead. Beautiful. I started undoing the cable and let his legs drop slowly, unfolding him to reveal just how much he had been stretched by the dislocation. His arms were pressed flush against the side of his skull and his wide lats seemed to have shrunk a bit as the flesh of his back was also drawn upward. He still had beautiful, deep armpits between those muscles and his thick pecs, still bound in the harness and rising and falling shallowly. They seemed a perfect way to rouse him.
I gave a solid hook punch into his right arm pit. His body shook and the eyes fluttered. Another hook to the left pit, already turning purple, brought a wheezing gasp out of him and his bloodshot eyes popped open. His legs thrashed a little as he twisted at the hips, an involuntary, instinctive attempt at escape that only put further strain on his shredded arms.
I mean...I'm sure Amp had referred to his arms as shredded before, but not like this.
While he got his bearings, I went a got a mirror, and held it up to him at a distance.
“So, Amp. Looks like you really are almost just a torso. It's a dream come true.”
His bleary eyes struggled to focus. I could see him scanning his own image in disbelief and then try to turn his head and see the damage to his cut arms with his own eyes, but it hurt to even turn his head against them and so he quickly gave up and feel too weeping again.
“You fucking ruined me, man... You fucking ruined me...”
Deep sobs. The more he sobbed, the more it hurt, but he couldn't help himself.
I propped the mirror on a stand in front of him and picked up the remote, lowering the cable. The tension ceased a little, but he was struggling to stand on his legs, which had suffered their own stretching tearing, and were weak from the pain that filled filled his body. The arms just sort of collapsed behind him as the cable lowered until once again the bound hands were resting against his ass, lower than they had been before. As I undid his armbinders, I admired the hematomas that spread across his back like vestigial black wings. When the binders were removed completely, the arms just flopped limply to his side...like some other vestigial appendage.
“You're still a real beauty, Amp,” I said and gave one shoulder a slap. The pain caused his knees to buckle and I had to grab him around the waist to keep him from keeling forward. My dick was back in his crack again, dying to plug him, but I had one more preparation to make before I could get to that. He was gazing blankly at his own image still and, I think, glimpsing me changing out the configuration of the suspension cable into a noose. We looked into each other's eyes through our reflections in the mirror as I slipped it over his head. “And this is going to be the most beautiful moment of the night. It will be agony, but it will also be your release.” I kissed the nape of his neck lightly, licked it, tasting his sweat. He didn't even flinch. This was the eye of the storm for him.
I pulled a bench up behind him and positioned myself with my cock aimed up at his ass. There was still plenty of slack in in cable, so when I suddenly pulled him down onto my lap, he wasn't really choked, though the cable did bite a little deeper and the movement of his head was restricted. I could see his eyes bulging a little again. He started to say something, but I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed, so only magnificent scream emerged from his mouth. While he dealt with the shock of that, I worked the remote to take the slack out of the cable until he was just slightly suspended by his neck. The spread bar clanged on the concrete as he kicked in vain. His asshole was burping up the last traces of my first load onto my thighs. It was time to fill him up again. I had to use both hands to maneuver him up and then back down onto my dick, so he was firmly impaled. Through his strained throat, another defeated moan rasped out.
I used my hands to pull him up and down onto my dick for the first few minutes, churning his guts as they tightened repeatedly. Each time I pulled down, his throat was constricted, and his asshole responded in kind. It was a marvelous synchrony that had me on edge the whole time. I knew how to show restraint, however, and I even upped the intensity by grabbing the remote and hoisting him further by his neck.
I could here Amp start to choke and sputter as his throat closed. Instead of manipulating him up and down, I grabbed his arms and just pulled and I pumped my cock up and down into his spasming hole. His legs were still flailing, which was a good sign that the ride wasn't to end too soon. But after a few minutes, they were slowing down. I contorted slightly to see my fuckdoll's face in the mirror.
It was darkening and livid, but a little air was still getting in and out. I'm sure the brain was already starting to expire from lack of oxygen. The formerly hazel eyes were awash with the red of burst capillaries. The lips were deep blue and the tongue was starting to protrude. Things were definitely coming to an end.
I stopped holding back. My pace quickened. My grip tightened. The fuckdoll started spasming again as the noose dug into his neck and completely shut off all oxygen. The face quickly blackened and blood began to pour from the nose over the swelling tongue. I the chest heaved pointlessly, burning with a need for oxygen as the brain started to burn away in its airless little cell.
And oh my fucking god how that beautiful ass danced and milked my cock with every last muscle.
The white light overtook me again. In my trance, as I shot his innards full of whiteness, I heard my own heart beating, the rush of blood in my veins, and the cracking and popping of bones in my dying fuckdoll. I was still cumming when I felt the life leave Amp, felt his asshole completely relax, bloom open around my cock. Streams of blood tinged spunk flowed over the shaft and across my balls. I shuddered and hissed...that's all I can remember of the moment...the various sensations slowly creeping back into my awareness from the blinding haze of ecstasy.
When I was able to catch my breath, I just sat there for a long time with cock still stirring, half-hard in the cooling guts of Amp. His physical beauty has been nearly obliterated. Even his flawless pecs were mottled with bruises, up across his neck, beneath the blackened mask of his strangled face. But his legs and lower torso were still magnificent. His limp cock dropped between his thighs. I noticed that he had pissed himself at the end...not unexpected.
I wondered how long I could keep him slumped over the bench, ass up and ready to be fucked like the proper doll he was now. I figured in a day or two, things would start to stink, but I could get another night with him, maybe test out new ways of destroying an Amp's cunt for the next time. After all, there was more fresh meat out there, more Amps just waiting to get snuffed, and I needed to stay imaginative.
Not just Amps... Holes, Dumps, Navels, god knows what else. All these various fetishes, all these ways to lose control, all these ways to become a lifeless fuckdoll in my playroom.
