Days in Rodanthe Pt. 05

"Piss Robert."

It felt good releasing the twenty ounce coffee I drank on the way, even if the spray was directed up and all over my own stomach by my girlfriend's latex covered fingers. Then I was shocked to feel her hand jerking my meat, slick with wet crap.

"Don't you dare orgasm or I will leave!" she said, twisting and rubbing me nice and stiff.

I hadn't come in three weeks, so getting fully hard was quick. With my hands taped to my head, I must have looked like an arrested suspect, except getting a hand job. I moaned from beneath my cocoon of shit and red plaid cotton.

She soon let go and told me to walk forward. I walked on the gently sloped floor toward the deeper end of the pool, hard dick leading the way. Soon I was wading into what felt like a cold, slimy algae pond. Luckily, she gave me the command to stop while the water was halfway up to my knees. It smelled like swampy, rotting vegetation.

"Oh you look so cute!" she said condescendingly. "That bra looks good on you!" Her voice came from up on the pool deck. "Turn toward me. Okay now dance like a stripper Robert! Widen your legs! Thrust your pink cock outward! That's right! Swing it around!"

I'm not a good dancer, and it was obvious as I did my best to imitate the few movements I had seen of male strippers in the movies. My feet splashed the nasty water all over and my dick and nuts flopped around. Sadly, I think I was worse at trying to be a tempting muscle hunk than I was at prancing like a sissy. Suddenly a rock hit my inner thigh and I grunted in protest.

"I'll teach you not to grab my ass without permission, you fucking bastard!"

Even if I hadn't grasped her cheek after the fart, she would have found some excuse for the animosity. The neglected landscaping of the motel included white marble chips, stained by age, at the bases of its unkempt bushes, and my girlfriend was evidently stoning my dick with them as I moved. The thought excited it further, and it stayed hard and flailing as I kept spastically moving around, flexing my hips and feeling idiotic. She occasionally told me to freeze and thrust my hips forward, so my stiff meat was a stationary, projecting target, throbbing madly.

The rocks painfully hit me from ankle to my raised arms, but most were near my pelvis. Several glanced off the shaft of my bouncing meat. She cursed loudly, and vented her frustration in at least four languages. Za'ana must have grown impatient as I soon felt salvoes of multiple rocks sailing at me, several causing me to yell inside my shit-filled mask. The thrill of the initial danger was wearing off and I was getting overheated. It was hard to breathe with the tight bra and through my nose only. My sweaty head made melted fecal trails that began to trickle down my neck and drip off my chin.

The sharp rocks now littered the pool floor and my spastic dance show came to an abrupt halt when I stomped hard on two of them in succession with each foot and fell painfully onto my hip with a thud and a splash. Trying to stand, I took a few more hits right to my hanging, exposed sack before I realized Za'ana had run around and was throwing from the other side of the pool. The pelting continued, and the more I grunted and yelled from inside the sweaty, turd-soaked boxers the more the sadistic woman laughed. Gradually I stood, at her mercy, breathing heavily. Suddenly I heard the squeak of what sounded like a faucet, Then felt a blast of water on my back.

"You need a bath, shithead!"

She probably was counting on colder weather so the hose would add to my discomfort, but it actually felt good on my overheated body, and I was glad to have the slimy pool gunk rinsed off. Whatever her intent, she soaked me thoroughly from the chest down, making sure the forceful stream hit my balls several times. Unfortunately I had to keep the soaked bra and sweaty fecal mask on after the deluge ended and as I was verbally guided out of the pool, dripping wet.

We reached one of the buildings and I heard a door open, and I was led out of the sun and into what I first thought was one of the guest rooms. My bare feet were still on concrete, however, and I realized I must be in the maintenance room next to the office.

"Bend forward, you disgusting masturbator!"

A slap echoed through the room as my ass instantly stung. Before I could catch my breath, I was paddled again by something broad and flat. From the metallic sound it made I guessed it was a snow shovel. A couple marble chips that had become lodged in the cups of the green bra fell to the floor.

"At dinner I should have told your family about how I caught you playing with your penis, and how you love displaying your cock jerking talents for me!" she said teasingly after a couple more stinging slaps. "Do they know how you love things shoved up your asshole?"

I grunted a 'no' and shook my head, then suddenly felt the end of a wooden handle, slick with her saliva, sliding into my anus, pushing aside the wet crumbs of shit that had congregated there in my pubes.

I moaned as she gyrated the far end of the handle to expand my hole. It felt great, and I got the chills and my dick began to grow out of its cold water shrinkage, knowing my beautiful girlfriend was penetrating me. I sensed an increase in the rate of her breathing, and assumed she was rubbing her clit.

"Do you like this, you sick pervert?" she asked with labored breath after a couple minutes, ardently ramming the handle in, out, and around, jolting my genuflected torso around with her motions as I hummed a 'yes'.

Next I felt her stand beside me, straddle my thigh and teasingly rub her crotch on the side of my hip. She started yanking on my meat with her other hand, still with the glove on as I moaned loudly. Unfortunately she stopped after several seconds.

"Look at you, getting your circumcised pink cock nice and hard again! Time to walk outside! I will steer you by your asshole!"

I really didn't want to go outside again, but was guided back onto the rough, cracked asphalt of the parking lot. Walking bent over, the sun warmed my back and the bra traversing it, with my girlfriend holding the plunger handle in my rectum like a tiller. It would have been quite a pathetic show if anyone was watching. Za'ana insisted I make zooming noise since I looked like a 'little airplane', with my elbows extended like wings. We made two uncomfortable couple laps around the back of the lot, pausing only so she could kick me in the nuts from behind a few times. She spat on my ass and back repeatedly.

I was able to see a little light peripherally as I stumbled around, and suddenly I was in a shadow and realized she was steering me right into the side of my truck. I braced for a collision but luckily only hit the tire, but it still hurt. Finally we arrived back in the room, my head throbbing a little, saliva dripping off me.

"Let's see what other tools we can find, you prancing cocksucker."

Za'ana tilted the plunger up and I felt another spit-coated handle forcing its way into my ass beneath it. She mumbled something about a broom as I groaned loudly, taking both handles in my throbbing hole. This new visitor seemed longer and heavier, and then they both moved randomly in different directions as I cried out from under the plaid cotton mask at the uncomfortable, increased stretching. After a couple minutes more she spoke.

"Very good. Now step over here." She guided me, still with the broom, dragging on the floor, and plunger handle stuck up my throbbing anus, several limping steps away until my thighs bumped into the edge of a small dresser or night stand. "There we are!" Her touch, even though somewhat clinical with the gloves, felt great. Each of my legs was against a different side so I was facing into the corner at an angle. My sack was draped over something cold and metallic. I felt Za'ana's hand rotating something and my pulse raced as I realized I was straddling a bench vise that was secured to the piece of furniture.

"Have you ever heard the expression 'nuts in a vise', Robert?"

This was getting serious. I then felt her fingers, still covered in latex, hold one of my nuts, already sore from the pelting rocks, in the jaws of the vise, carefully placed so it wouldn't slip out. I heard the crank rotate as the pressure increased, and I could feel the rough metal surface dig into my skin as the contents of the testicle compressed. She moaned with pleasure and I gritted my teeth and cried out, gyrating my head around. The pulsing pain radiated up into my stomach. Humming rhythmically, Za'ana sounded like she was happily rubbing her clit. The pressure lessened, then increased again, and I could feel my eyes filling with tears. It felt as bad as getting kicked hard. I started to sound like I was hyperventilating, and she backed it off. I exhaled with relief, until she spoke.

"Now the other one!"

She repeated the process, and I endured another few minutes of slowly increasing and decreasing pressure, tearfully vocalizing my discomfort from beneath my makeshift headgear. I almost screamed as she flicked a finger several times onto the captive testicle. I convulsed so violently the handles in my ass flew around behind me and finally slid out, landing on the floor. As I heard my girlfriend gasp with an orgasm, I reminded myself to talk to her about a safe word when this was all over.

After her moaning tapered off, Za'ana cranked the vise open, relieving the pressure, but quickly stuffed both my sore balls into the open space below the jaws then tightened them again , crimping the loose skin between them and my body, practically immobilizing me. While a huge relief from the pressure, it was still uncomfortable, as any movement wrenched my already throbbing sack. My semi-hard dick was resting on the top of the cold metal jaws.

"It's very warm in here. I'm going to take off this top," she said, still somewhat out of breath.

I felt her bare, rubbery nipples rub on my back for several seconds as tantalizing proof she was topless. Then I felt Za'ana slowly stroking my cock with a spitty latex hand again while she caressed and slapped my ass cheeks. It felt great and I could feel my load start building, despite the torture.

"You are loving this you nasty pervert!" she said, stopping after a twenty strokes or so. "Mmm, let's see what else we can find in here!"

A metallic snap echoed through the room. My suspicions were confirmed as I felt the somewhat dull, opposing blades of a hedge trimmer on my arm. My girlfriend was teasing me with them, pressing them lightly on my arm near my elbow.

"I should be wearing a goalie's mask." She said as I felt the foot-long blades work their way in between my legs from behind, surrounding my captive scrotum.

While the intriguing mental image of her topless, in skin tight black pants, wielding hedge clippers and wearing a hockey mask flashed across my brain, my pulse raced even higher as paranoia crept it. How well did Ireallyknow this woman? I only knew what she told me. She could have been a serial killer. Even if everything she said was all true, there was nothing preventing her from escalating the torture, hacking me to pieces and dumping me into the huge hole in the ground next door at the old gas station. I had an unexpected female visitor this past week, one she wouldn't have approved of, and I hadn't told her about. Had she found out what happened somehow? Maybe that was the reason for her bad mood. Dozens of scenarios flashed through my head as I felt the trimmers widen against the insides of my thighs, and slowly close again several times. The pinching became painful, causing me to jerk my head around and yell from inside the hot gooey mask of fecal mush. The sweat had been slowly been loosening the tape's hold on my arms and neck, but I didn't dare try to escape and risk further wrath.

The dull blades slid out from between my legs, and she teased me with them, tracing around my body. I was relieved until I felt them on the underside and top of my throbbing shaft. Za'ana started with the head then worked her way back, gently opening and closing the blades, but not enough to do damage. My dick must have looked like a sausage held by chopsticks. Then I began to tremble a little when I felt only the lower blade on the underside of my dick, and point of the other blade touching just under my ribcage up near the cup of the bra. I realized she could slam down on the upper like a guillotine and it would be bye-bye cock. Then I was shocked to feel her warm, wet mouth on me, sucking and tonguing my dickhead noisily. The angle lifted my meat off the lower blade while her lips drove me into a frenzy. My load was getting close. Moments later her mouth and the hedge trimmers were suddenly gone. She snapped the blades closed loudly up near my ear for emphasis.

There was a long pause, and I could hear Za'ana humming industriously. I was trying to determine what she was doing when a short electrical buzz sounded from in front of me. At first I thought it was a vibrator. Then I hoped my second guess was wrong.

"Hey, look what I found!" Za'ana said, a little out of breath, as the high amperage, loud motor of a full size circular saw buzzed again as it began to torque. The saw, very close to me, came to life, whirring with a deceptively smooth, high pitched song. My girlfriend had been watching way too many horror movies.

I tried to stay calm. This woman was carrying the games too far. I fought the instinct to try and free my hands and slide my balls backwards out of the vise. I couldn't see where the spinning blade was and could lose a finger.

Suddenly the saw screamed loudly and the wooden furniture vibrated violently as the blade cut into it and I could hear Za'ana yelling in some language over the cacophony. She made several cuts, and I could smell the hot, burned wood, even over the stink of my shit mask.

Moments later the saw spun to a stop. Before I could protest, it started up again, and its hum grew closer. I could feel the top plastic housing that surrounded the blade bump against my spandex-covered chest. I trembled as I felt the airflow from the saw's wailing motor on my damp, sweaty skin. I this position, if the lower guard was intentionally held open, the lethal, spinning steel blade was right over my exposed boner, which was sitting helplessly on top of the vise as if it was on a chopping block.

Next I felt the saw move away and heard its motor wind down. I breathed a sigh of relief that Za'ana's scare tactic was over, and she began to suck on my throbbing dick again, cursing and spitting on my thigh when she encountered bits of sawdust that had landed on my shaft. All too soon she stopped and the damn saw started up again. I felt it descending slowly down my torso, then raise back up, only to descend again, each time closer to my about-to-explode cock. Meanwhile I slowly tried to free my hands from under the shit mask, but accidentally covered my nose. Eventually I felt the metal side frame of the saw drop past my navel. Its movements were suddenly erratic as if she lost control. Or maybe she hadn't.

Sure, I trusted her, I told myself, but what if it slipped? Visions of my bloody dick flying across the room and slapping against the wall, or Za'ana yanking my severed meat away from my body with reddened teeth flashed through my pounding head. I knew had to break away, but had trouble catching my breath. The room began to spin as I lost my bladder, or so I thought. I realized her recent sucking and this ultimate risk to my cock had me orgasm, pumping out a huge load. At the same time I finally worked my hands loose and began to peel off the soggy, shit coated boxers, but it was too late. She must have found out about Constance, my unexpected visitor. It suddenly occurred to me that meeting that blonde could have been a set up by my devious girlfriend to test me, and I failed the test. The saw had fallen way below my waist. The room spun even faster. I felt sharp metal digging into the flesh of my dick as I passed out.

Four days earlier, it was just after seven o'clock on the cold Tuesday morning after the weekend at my parents' house and the visit with Za'ana. A young, pretty woman came jogging up to me in the parking lot by my dorm. She was fairly tan, likely from a salon bed or lingering from spring break. Long, straight platinum blonde hair descended from her knitted white pompom hat. She was a little on the petite side, and her perky tits bounced subtly in unison beneath a pink sweatshirt.

"Oh hey, can you help me? I was like, kinda drunk and ran over this metal sign thingy last night and it's stuck under my car to a pipe or something!" She continued to bounce slightly with nervous excitement, standing in place, bending at the knee, tugging on my wrist with her pink mittens. "I have to get to work! Please?" Her bright blue eyes looked pleadingly into mine. Her tentative smile was big, white, and she had a bit of a sexy overbite behind her shiny, rose-colored lipstick. A good 'blowjob mouth', as my friends would say.

Upon a closer look, this flaky sounding damsel in distress, while beautiful, seemed a little older than most of the students. I assumed she was local, maybe a single mom that had recently hooked up with someone. A fuck is a fuck, even in a dorm a Monday night. She looked kind of familiar, so maybe she was dating some lucky guy on my floor.

I consented to take a look at her car, wrestling in my mind about whether a girl who truly needed help, or, the improbable and egotistic choice, a girl who was exaggerating her distress and was hitting on me because someone hadn't satisfied her overnight. It would be my luck that something like this would happen when I finally had a girlfriend. I followed the blonde across the parking lot, watching her closely-spaced butt cheeks jiggle in gray sweat pants. She thanked me flirtatiously, looking back over her shoulder and flashing her blue eyes at me.

Doing what most guys, even those with girlfriends would do, visualizing what that tight, yummy ass would look like naked, I walked alongside a white cargo van with New Jersey license plates. Suddenly there was a very tight grip on my upper arm. I looked up to see a large, bald African-American man in a suit and overcoat. He was smiling, but instantly I knew this was going to be a very bad day.

"Mr. Voss," the blonde turned around and said in a low, serious tone, dropping the ditzy party girl routine. "we need to talk. Step inside, please." This woman knew my name. I knew I was fucked somehow, and not in a good way. My first thought was about the weed my entire dorm smelled like every night, but was afraid it was much worse.

"Okay, what?" I asked, stepping up into the back of the cargo van at the not-so-gentle persuasion of the large hand on my bicep. He released me and the doors slammed shut.

I was alone in the windowless but partially lit van with the blonde, sitting opposite her on a padded bench. Racks of electronic equipment, a few with lit or blinking LEDs, occupied the rest of the interior. Even though it was not much warmer inside, she removed her mittens and hat, then slid her thick sweatshirt up over her head. Before I met Za'ana, I would have been a drooling, stuttering mess in the presence of this woman. Now, having had more sexual experience, so to speak, at least I was able to stay calm.

Besides the gray sweat pants, the blonde wore a clingy, thin, white scoop-necked top, sheer enough that her dark blue underwire bra and the diagonal seams of its well-filled cups were easily detectable beneath. Her pushed-up tits were the kind that look like they are about to jump out of their restraints at any second, nearly the shape of and a little larger than baseballs. I felt this sexy little strip down and non-standard attire were meant to distract me and help her interrogation. However, the occupied black under arm side holster and the badge on the chain around her neck, sitting askew in her tanned, lightly freckled cleavage did a lot to spoil the mood. She adjusted a gold necklace and freed the badge, then spoke as it dangled in the open overhang beneath her tits.