A Night at the Nutcracker Suite

~~~

Twenty minutes later -- after she'd gotten dress, doused my wounds with more Jim Beam, and thoroughly scrubbed my brutalized genitals with soap and water -- she took off my gag. It had been a good thing she waited. I'm pretty sure I cried out almost as much from the burning as when she'd put them in the condition they were in. If it hadn't come from the same bottle of whiskey she drank from, I'd have put my money on the belief it was acid.

I was still breathing hard when she tucked the Jim Beam into her purse. "I don't think anything's ruptured. You'll probably need ice, though. If you stick with alcohol and a good scrubbing your sack may scar some, but you won't have to see a doc-in-the-box." She glanced deliberately at her well-clawed, but otherwise perfect breasts, hard nipples just barely covered by her bodice. "Not that I have to tell you that."

Just because she said nothing was ruptured didn't mean I believed it. I wasn't certain I'd be able to walk. Still, as much as I ached from my belly button to my knees, and though I couldn't focus on her chest through my tears, her not-so-subtle nod to her tits got my attention.

I tried to come across as casual. "You can't leave me like this." My voice was so hoarse I didn't recognize it. I cleared my throat. "Besides, you got your fantasy. It's my turn."

She raised an eyebrow and laughed. "You think that was my fantasy, sweety? If that was my fantasy, you wouldn't have anything left to play with. Still..." Her smile took on that evil quality again. "Are you asking for another round?"

I thought back to our chat -- about what her biggest rush was. I started to bristled a little at the idea she might think I was submissive, though my situation didn't present much argument against it. "I thought this wasn't business."

She laughed again and gave me a surprising little kiss on the cheek. Then she picked up my belt. "It's not. I just figured I'd go to the bar while you recovered." She looked knowingly at her breasts, popped her hand with the strap, and snapped her teeth together the same way she'd done on me. "When I get back, I'll sit on your face for a while and decide whether I play out my fantasy, enjoy some of your tit torture dreams, or maybe do both."

The thought that she might be serious about leaving me with nothing left to play with made me nervous. Still, aching balls and mangled scrotum aside, the idea of doing the same thing to her incredible tits made my cock twitch again. If it got its way, she'd come back with a bottle of ranch dressing for my balls and some honey for her breasts. Before I could say anything, she tossed the belt onto the bed and opened the door.

"Who knows? If you survive the rest of this night, Les Miserables is showing next month."