The Ginger Masochist Chronicles [Zavaya | Kwizzard] [NSFW | Ex.]

[Kwizzard]

It was hard to describe the feeling that welled up within him when Sam thanked him for what he was doing to her. Something about the enthusiasm with which she submitted was intoxicating. He wanted her so badly, but the want wasn't merely sexual. It ran far deeper than that. He wanted to take everything Sam had, to reduce her entire existence down to something with no purpose other than to satisfy his sadism...

Dangerous! Zac tore free of his demons. If he wasn't careful, that little siren would drag him down with her. She was a dangerous toy for sure. It would be so very easy to get carried away with her... To go too far... Whatever that meant.

He could tell she didn't much like being called Princess either. He didn't blame her. But she seemed to be misunderstanding something. She tried to tell him she was nothing. That was her mistake. It wasn't a choice for her to make. It was his.

Zac brought his hand down hard on Princess's exposed cunt. He pinched her pussy between his fingers, threatening even more pain at any moment. Then, once he had her attention, he addressed in a stern tone.

"Don't you dare argue." He warned "A thing like you ought to be kept deprived and in bondage, your only respite when your owner deems fit to torture you for their amusement. Instead, you're laying back, getting your pretty little pussy teased, with all your dirty fantasies plastered all over the internet for strangers to perv at. Spoiled."
"Meanwhile, I'm the one doing all the work, all the planning, and you barely even tried to suck my cock for me because you were so excited about getting your needy little pussy punished."

"So how do you suppose I should handle a rotten little masochist like you who doesn't even realise how lucky she is, huh? First failing to suck cock, now talking back? How are you going to make it up to me? I want you to think about it while I finish tying you up, Princess... And if I don't like the answer, maybe I'll just... walk away."

It was an empty threat. There was no fucking way he was letting Sam go that easily. But somehow, the threat of stopping seemed like the cruelest thing he could possibly do to her in the moment - Getting her hopes up and then just... Walking out on them. For some reason he got the feeling that that was probably the only thing she'd truly fear.

He threw his concentration back into his work. Taking his rolls of vet wrap, he began to wrap the stiff, rough bandage tightly around Sam's thigh and ankle, locking them tightly together. The bandage was ideal for the job, not only did it hold her limbs secure, it spread any force over a large surface, meaning she could be left tied for a long time with minimal issues, and no matter how much she struggled, she wouldn't be able to cause herself any problems that would force him to cut his plans short. She would just have to endure it until he decided to release her.

Zac finished wrapping Sam's leg into a tightly bound stump, and set about repeating the process with her other leg, and then her arms, slowly turning her into a human starfish, incapable of doing much but waggle her stumps at him, and staring back.

It seemed his plans didn't end there though, because next he proceeded to pull out a freaking power drill and set about securing each of her limbs to the table with strapping, literally screwing them directly into the wood - the place was so grotty anyway, who was going to care about a few screw holes? Not Zac. Two straps per limb was more that enough to ensure that Sam was very, very secure. Zac didn't hold back on tightening them down either - the vet tape was enough to ensure any pinching was minimal.

The sadist put his drill back with his supplies and then turned back to his victim with a grin. They both knew full well at this point that any chance she might have had to resist him was long gone. He reached out very slowly, very deliberately, to place his hand on his toy, and began to tease her ever so slightly with his thumb.

"Alright, Princess. Let's hear what you've got to say for yourself."

 

[Zavaya]

Sam knew how lucky she was. She knew damn well but it just hadn't landed yet. After years and years of being dulled, it just took her some time to process the new emotions joy, elation and arousal, something she really wanted to thank Zac for. But at the same time, she didn't feel this was the time or place.

She watched intently as he continued to work on her body, tying it up and even screwing it tight with a skill and precision that told her he was experienced with this. And he was good looking. And he had picked her. Of all people. Sam didn't want to let him down but at the same time felt incredibly insecure about everything. She figured he had a certain expectation for her and how she should react and Sam just wasn't at all sure how or if she could live up to that.

His bondage was tight and secure and Sam loved it. The feeling of being drilled to the table and no way to get out of it without his help made her feel utterly helpless and aroused. It probably showed on her body as well as her nipples felt like they could cut diamonds.

When he began to rub his thumb over her intimate parts, she shuddered, visibly and turned and raised her head to look at him.

"I.. I don't know. I never thought I'd get to where I am. Never thought this would really happen. But I'll do whatever you want me to do and you can do anything you want with me. I never felt like this... Never felt so... alive."

 

[Kwizzard]

A smirk plastered itself across Zac's face as Sam offered him free reign over her body once again. Not that he had any intentions of allowing his plaything to have a say in the matter anyway. Any control she might have had over the situation was long gone. All she could do now was lay there and pray that Zac didn't take a sudden interest in live vivisection. Until he decided otherwise, she was nothing but a toy for his amusement.

For his part, Zac found himself curious to see just how much movement the girl could muster in her current predicament. And, if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to see a little more fear from Sam, rather than just pure excitement. A fuck toy that couldn't even service her owner properly had no business being this excited. No doubt the pain would temper that excitement soon enough.

Zac stopped rubbing Sam with his thumb. It was time for her to entertaining him instead. With an incredibly callous level of indifference, he flicked at her sensitive clit directly with his index finger. She had no hope of escape, no way to close her legs, or shield herself, and basically no warning to prepare herself. Zac could only really imagine how much it must hurt - a lot, he hoped.

"You're supposed to be being punished, Sam." He reminded the bound girl, as she thrashed against her bonds. After a few moments, he calmed her by placing his open hand on her pelvis, pressing her firmly down to the table. He was clearly enjoying himself watching Sam squirm. When he spoke, his voice was consoling, but his words promised nothing but pain ahead. "Such a poor, cute little pain slut... Go on. Thrash all you want. We'll keep going until you get it out of your system. Oh, and you're going to thank me each time. Understood?

Zac wasn't about to let Sam off with just the once. Now that she knew what to expect, she'd no doubt do everything in her power to avoid a repeat. So that became the game. If Sam stopped trying to get away for even a moment, the consequences would be instantaneous. He hadn't decided yet how long to continue their little game, but letting her exhaust herself a bit would do her good. Then they could actually get on with what she was really strapped there for.

 

[Zavaya]

The sudden change to pain shocked Sam. She hadn't been prepared for it at all and didn't have time to get used to it as the next jolt of pain soon followed and then another and another. It was as if the dullness had completely buggered off and Sam was now experiencing everything to the max. The pain was intense and the complete lack of movement only made it worse. Automatically she started to beg for him to stop. Not because she wanted him to but because it was all she could do.

Sam looked at her captor, eyes wide open in pain and maybe even a little fear when she felt his hand on her pelvis. It felt almost tender, and it gave Sam just enough time to register what he was saying. He wanted her to stop fighting and accept the pain. An easy enough task, on paper.

In reality though, it took three more flicks before Sam began to thank Zac after the fourth. She still squirmed and trashed before she thanked him. It just hurt too much and poor little Sam just wasn't prepared for any of this.

"Ooowhhh... fuck.... please... stop....... thanks"

A scream and tears and a statement on how much it hurt before she called out a thanks again

Flick, flick.

Flick.

"Hng... Thank you sir."

Her toes curled and muscles tensed as her body soaked up the pain and at the 13th flick, Sam managed to get control over her body. There was a flinch and a shiver in her body as it reacted visibly to the pain but there was no begs or whimpers. Sam had accepted the pain as part of what was going on now. She had no idea how long it would last but for now, she would accept it.

"Thank you sir for teaching me a lesson."

 

[Kwizzard]

Entertaining as it was to watch Sam buck against her bondage in a futile effort to escape the unexpected assault, she seemed to adapt quickly to the situation, and as her desperation waned, so too did Zac's interest in continuing to torment her. However, it did let him discover that she had a little more freedom to move her hips than was ideal, but that would be easily solved by wedging a pillow under the girl's back as padding.

"Shut up. You can thank me when we're done." If Sam kept thanking him every time he inflicted pain, this would be a very long afternoon. A gag would solve that easily enough, but he wasn't ready to reduce her to a whimper just yet. Zac took a break from tormenting the helpless girl to examine her with his fingers, looking closely at how red she was.

"Just be glad I'm being so lenient with you - though a pervert like you, maybe you'd prefer something harsher, huh? Turn your poor defenceless clit into a little pincushion, eh?"

Leaving Sam to envision his future plans and lick her wounds for a moment, Zac fished out his phone and set about taking a couple of photos for her story. He even let the bound girl take a peek, so she could see herself helplessly exposed and laid out on the table, ready for torture, her limbs reduced to useless stumps, her pussy blushed red from some mixture of arousal and abuse.

"...I see no reason to rush into it though. I have a different plan for today. Although it does involve needles. And bear spray, I think. I was tossing up on that, but since you're incapable of even sucking cock, I think you deserve that much pain at least."


As he talked, Zac set about wedging a pillow from the bed beneath Sam's butt to raise her hips slightly. Then he grabbed a short hank of rope from his bag of tools, something natural that would hold knots well, but probably scratch a little too. He slipped the bight of the rope around behind her waist, and after a few moments adjusting, he knotted it to lay right on her pubic bone.

"Gotta make sure you can't move an inch for this..." He told his captive as he disappeared from view beneath the table for a moment. The tail end of the rope soon began to tighten, Zac's crotch rope beginning to bite as he hauled it mercilessly tight and tied it off. Now, if Sam wanted to try to move her hips, she'd have a deeply biting rope to contend with as well.

Zac straightened up, checking that his crotch rope was sitting low enough over Sam's pelvis not to get in the way. The sight of her made him smirk. It was a beautiful sight. Her flawless, feminine form. Pristine. One he was about to irreversibly marr purely for his own selfish enjoyment. He produced a blue marker now, de-capped it, and cast his gaze over Sam's midriff.

"Heard of stick and poke before, Princess? It's what we're going to do to you today - give you a nice little tattoo right... Here..."

Zac set about laying out his marks right above the knot in Sam's crotch rope, drawing in the borders he needed for his design.

"Of course, it would be easier to do it the normal way... But this will be slower, and much more painful - I'm going to mix bear spray in with the ink. I can't even begin to imagine how much the capscasin will burn beneath your skin... Or for how long... But we'll soon find out."

 

[Zavaya]

Even after he uncapped the marker, Sam was still oblivious to what his plans were and she had no idea what stick and poke was. But the look in his eyes betrayed it would be painful. Yet she had no idea how painful it would be. Only when he mentioned something about mixing ink with bear spray did she connect the dots. A tattoo. It was something she had been weary of before. Many of her readers had voted positively when the fictional her asked if she should get a tattoo and what kind of. She hadn't talked about this with Zac. In fact they hadn't talked about anything and now it was going to happen anyway.

She tried to move a little where he had marked her lower stomach but she soon found she was unable to move at all. A lot of thoughts shot through her brain. Did she really want this? Would it be permanent? Would she be able to handle the pain. The last thought gave her a surge of adrenaline again. Pain. It was such a fictional word. She thought she had felt pain, yet self inflicted pain was different. Her red throbbing clitoris was proof of that. Yet that was a pain she could live it. It was a warm, burning kind of pain that quickly faded and even though it was still tender and swollen, if nobody touched it, it didn't hurt at all.

Sam somehow got the feeling that capsaicin underneath her skin, combined with a needle sticking into her would be a whole different kind of pain.

"Zac? Can..."

She wanted to talk about it. Or so she thought. The fact that she didn't finish her sentence kind of proved to her that she didn't want to talk about it and feel the pain. There was also still the fact that she still didn't fully know if Zac would even listen. How voluntarily was she still here? Would he stop if she told him to?

She softly shook her head.

"Never mind... I.. I think I'm ready. I trust you."

Trust. Another fictional word that meant nothing to anybody until it meant something. Sam wasn't sure she trusted Zac. But she was sure she wanted to feel the pain. Having felt everything so far much more intense than anything she ever felt before, she could only imagine what real pain would feel like and she was ready to forget her doubts and fears and just revel in the agonising pain that she hoped this would give her.

 

[Kwizzard]

Having marked out the borders of his canvas Zac paused for a moment. He couldn't shake a feeling of dissociation, like it was someone else's hand that held the pen to Sam's supple, pale skin. He was probably still aroused, but somehow that seemed unimportant now too, just an annoyance in the background, trying to distract him from his work. Sam wasn't helping with that either. She uttered some line about trusting him, like it actually mattered at this point. They hadn't set any safe words either, had they? Zac honestly couldn't remember that either... But he was pretty sure even if they had that he wasn't about to stop.

Actually, he'd much prefer if his canvas would just stay quiet. A little more fear might be nice too... She was hesitant, but still willing, somehow... Zac couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad thing. Part of him wanted to see her break down. And then to see what would happen. Would he actually stop? Would his guilty conscience kick in, or would the sadism win out? He honestly wasn't sure himself.

Zac didn't bother to affirm Sam's trust in him. Let her guess, just like he had to. He barely even acknowledged she'd spoken - instead of responding to her, he took a ball gag, pushed it roughly into her mouth, and buckled it tightly in place. Time for conversation was over. If he wanted to talk then he would, but she was only to listen... And to whimper, he'd allow her that.

While she got accustomed to the hard rubber ball filling her mouth, Zac began to sterilize the area he intended to tattoo, wiping it down with a sterile medical wipe. If there'd been hair there, he'd have shaved her too, but there didn't seem to be any need. If he'd been a proper artist, he'd have had a stencil or something too, but Zac didn't know much about those. What he was planning wasn't all that complicated anyway. So instead, he just used a regular old ballpoint pen to draw his lines - it was a backyard job in a shitty hotel after all, not some fancy tattoo parlour. If he pulled it off without any infections, that was probably good enough. As it was, he wasn't entirely sure how the bear spray would act when applied subcutaneously... He figured it ought to be safe enough... But Sam would be his first actual test subject.

The actual process was simple enough. Mix the ink and spray, sterilize the poking needle, dip it in the mixture, and then just push it into Sam's skin. He needed to break her skin and draw blood, but that was about as deep as it needed to be. Basically harmless.

It ought to burn for fucking hours though. Hopefully days. There was really only one way to find out, but by the time he was finished, Sam would have a permanent, painful reminder of the experience. As for what it would say, Zac had barely needed to think about that. Right from the start, he knew the perfect tattoo. It would be an advert, but also something degrading, that would constantly remind Sam what a pervert she was. Even without looking at it, she'd be able to feel it burning, and when he eventually paraded her naked, everyone else would know it too.


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With his lines drawn in, Zac's sole focus became that small rectangle of skin just above Sam's helpless cunt. No amount of struggling would let her escape the slow, but incessant pricking of the needle though. After each and every prick, Zac had to re-dip his needle in the ink-capscasin mixture, and carefully line it up for the next little pop of pain. As pain goes, Zac figured it ought to actually be pretty mild, but from each prick there ought to be a bloom of fire, that would slowly build into a burning ache as the bear spray did it's thing. And Sam would have little choice but to stay still and wait patiently for it all to stop. There was nothing to distract her from it, not even Zac's voice, except for the bonds holding her tightly in place, or the rope bisecting her pussy. Grinding against that was really the only option Sam had to distract herself, but doing so would no doubt provoke Zac as he sat, hunched in concentration.