This story is based on a Grimms fairy tale, which I have translated to our modern life, but it’s still firmly a fantasy.
Greta flopped onto him, still zoned out from the extreme sensations she’d experienced. They clung together, hoping the nightmare was finally over.
“Here, let me take these off.” Hans released the nipple clamps, one at a time, sucking and massaging each tortured nipple in his mouth to ease the pain as blood rushed back into them. Still Greta squealed with pain.
“Don’t cry baby-girl,” he gentled her like a spooked horse. “I’m here now.”
Greta sagged against him, her body trembling with relief and exhaustion. When she caught sight of Barb tied to the bed her face twisted with revulsion.
“That woman! That bitch! Every night, twice a day, she’s fucked me every which way. She doesn’t care about consent or safewords.”
Once released from the spreader bar, Greta pulled towards Barb’s prone figure on the bed, intent on vengeance, but Hans held her back.
“Don’t Greta. She can’t hurt you now. Let her stew in her own juice!”
He studied the pledges and suggestions which continued to scroll on the computer monitor.
“She deserves a taste of her own medicine.” He pointed out a request to see anal punishment. “Get me the biggest anal plug you can find Greta. Don’t worry about lube,” he said, still bitter at his cock’s own ill treatment.
While Greta rummaged in the toy drawer, he yanked Barb’s underwear down and let a gob of spit drool from his lips into the crack of her ass.
“Your turn to suffer Witch,” he sneered. “See for yourself what it feels like to be forced into sex acts.”
He pressed a large, bulbous silicone plug at her anal entrance until the muscle gave and her body welcomed it in. Barb’s head thrashed from side to side at the invasion, but she could no more resist than Greta had been able to, when tied to the bed with the same restraints. Then he wrenched the chain from Barb’s neck, he needed the tiny key for the padlock to his cock cage.
“They love it!” Greta laughed pointing at the monitor. “This one says punish her more! What’s she done to you my darling?” she surveyed his feminine fetishwear and his punished penis. “Let’s get you out of that!”
Hans passed her the small key which she turned in the padlock, setting his poor tormented manhood free. With a cry of malicious power she grabbed the cane and began spanking Barb’s exposed butt cheeks, making a red stripe with every blow.
“Take that Bitch, like I had to!”
The ratings went up, of course. Greta looked magnificent in her angry nakedness, wielding the whippy cane. Her high, firm breasts jiggled with each exertion, she looked amazonian.
“Follow me to the office in few minutes, I’m going to find Barb’s account details.” Hans whispered in Greta’s ear.
Hans made his way back up the hall to rummage in the drawers again. Typical of many older people Barb kept a book in which she’d written all her account names, logins and password details. Hans took that and when he couldn’t find a flash drive, he unplugged her laptop and tucked it under his arm. There was a wallet with cash too, Hans scooped out the wad of notes.
“C’mon Greta, we’ve gotta go!” He called. It was opening time soon and customers might wonder what was up when the Sweet Treat didn’t open for business.
Minutes later Greta followed, dressed in clothes she’d hurriedly grabbed from Barb’s wardrobe. They hustled out to the car park and jumped into the SUV. Checking the fuel gauge and seeing it nearly full, Hans felt a sense of relief.
“Where can we go?” Greta turned to Hans, always the big brother. “Could we see if Theo wants us back? His family situation might have changed by now.”
“We could Greta darling, or we could set up in business on our own.”
Hans was driving so he could not see the expression of puzzlement on her face.
“But what could we do? What sort of business?”
“We could run our own dungeon. Being trapped by Barb at her place made me realise how easily we could do something similar. Or if you want we could both do cam work – you made a mint back there! You’re very popular my lovely girl!” Hans stroked Greta’s thigh lovingly as he drove. “Now we have all Barb’s customer contacts – we stole her treasure!”
“I guess it could be fun … We’d only create the scenes that we actually want to do.” Greta sounded thoughtful. “I quite liked having a female mistress …”
“We’d employ one!” Hans slapped the steering wheel, excited as a plan began to take shape.
“Whatever you want! We’ll empty Barb’s account to buy ourselves a decent premises. I think she was onto something being out of town. People can visit as long they want and their comings and goings aren’t overlooked.”
“We could have pole dancers!” Greta was excited, bouncing in her seat.
“Maybe,” Hans waved at the glove compartment. “See if there’s a map in there baby-girl. We need a town with a diner and a store. I can’t walk about like an extra from the Rocky Horror show!”
Greta giggled. “You look fantastic. What did she do to you?”
“Eugh,” Hans shuddered remembering his enforced celibacy. “Nothing I’d want to do again. Well – apart from wearing this corset. I’m quite open to recreating the ‘sweet transvestite’ look, but cock-caging, no thank you!”
“Geez,” Greta gasped, in sympathy. “This though,” she purred, stroking his stocking tops, “I kinda like it. Thanks for saving me Hans.” She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, her lips gently brushed past his ear.
“I’ll always look out for you Greta.”
They held hands until he needed to operate the gear stick. Hans smiled as he drove on, putting as many miles as possible between them and the Sweet Treat Inn.
This is submitted for the #WickedWednesday meme. Click the link to see who else is participating – the theme is Celibacy. My image is sourced from Pixabay.