Glory, Glory, Hallelujah Ch. 3


Dear Reader.

I’ve heard that all the best authors start off that way when they want to write a personal note. So I thought what’s good for the best is good enough for me.

This story has been written as an entry into the Literotica 2002 Survivor competition. As the rules require that authors submit a story to each category I have submitted this to BDSM.

The trouble with rules is that they’re to be followed and so the previous two stories concerning Kristen and her search for debasement have been placed in different categories. If you want to read this Chapter first then please do so, but if you want to follow the tale from the beginning here are where the previous two chapters have been placed:

Glory, Glory Hallelujah! – Erotic Couplings Glory, Glory Hallelujah! Chapter 2 – Group Sex

Hope you enjoy them…

And don’t forget to vote!


* * * * *

They came and released Kristen three hours after Jimmy and his group had left. Although she wasn’t aware of it the men in the next room had stopped coming in fifteen minutes earlier and she hadn’t had a cock thrusting deep into her throat since then.

They had to be careful how they unfastened the head restraints as the copious amounts of cum that covered her chin and chest acted as an adhesive, bonding firmly with the equal amounts of cum covering the wall. But with a soft damp cloth they wiped around the area until she could be pulled into the centre of the room without tearing her skin. Next came the vibrator.

Her legs didn’t need to be opened, they were already splayed wide apart, accommodating the continuously buzzing sex tool as it brought her, yet again to a massive orgasm. As it reached its peak she gave a small moan and her eyelids fluttered briefly as she felt the gut clenching spasm sweep through her entire body. They waited until it was over then swiftly removed the toy from a widely dilated vagina. Immediately her thighs were soaked with streams of lubricating juices that had been trapped inside her.

Then they lifted her onto the hospital trolley and wheeled her out of the room.

“Let her sleep for a while ” said one of them.

They pushed the trolley into an elevator that took them down three flights. Then they wheeled her through a door with the number 16 moulded from brass screwed to it. They fastened her body to the trolley with wide, leather straps and left her there to gain what sleep she could…

four hours later…

Kristen swung upside down tethered by her ankles to the rope that dangled from the ceiling. This was her idea and she was determined to go through with it even though she was unsure of what exactly was going to happen next. Her long auburn hair reached the floor brushing along the concrete with each movement of the rope. A blindfold effectively cut out the sight of the small room filled with strangers, all men, who had quietly been taking their places on the hard wooden chairs facing the slightly raised stage. Her arms had been pulled behind her back so that her wrists could be manacled together, not too tightly, but secure enough to keep them pinioned against the naked flesh at the small of her back.

She swung gently. Her breasts, hanging down from her rib cage, hardly moved except for the disturbance caused by her shallow breathing. Her nipples were hard and extended as a mixture of cool air and sexual excitement kept them in a state of anticipation. She swung as the man entered the room from a side door.

She heard his footsteps approaching. His metal capped heels a menacing clicking sound on the concrete. The audience had grown still and silent. Not a sound could be heard in the cellar save for the sound of his steps. Then Kristen heard the mass intake of breath as the audience saw something that excited them.

Rivulets of sweat were running freely down her flesh, making her skin itch as they passed over her body, towards her upturned chin and finally to run up her face to her hairline. Her long strands of hair turned darker with the accumulation of liquid and she had a crazy desire to immerse herself in a tub of cold water to cool her body down and rid herself of the constant irritation.


The blow against her vulnerable body sent it swinging wildly at the end of the rope. Her breath expelled in an uncontrolled explosion of air leaving her lungs empty.


A harder, more vicious blow, that caught her across her görükle escort waist just above the flair of her buttocks. This time her lungs filled to bursting with air, but only for a second. Her scream, loud and shrill emptied them again. The high-pitched shriek assaulted the ears of the audience who shifted in their seats, mesmerised by the tableau being performed before them.


Again a scream of pain was ripped from her as the soft roundness of her buttocks were targeted. The man behind her raised his right arm and swung down again against the quivering round globes of flesh. Another scream, hoarser this time, filled the room. The audience was moving more frequently now. Not as one, but as individuals as hands unzipped trousers and disappeared inside to caress and rub the hardening flesh.

Another scream, then another. Her flesh was beginning to stripe as each blow landed in a controlled pattern up and down her back. Each reddening line an almost carbon copy of the previous one as the Whipmaster moved his aim relentlessly and accurately over her body. Saliva bubbles burst on her lips allowing the liquid to run over her upper lip and into her flared nostrils where it mixed with the streaming tears pouring from her nose. Her face began to glisten with the mixture of sweat and saliva that ran and eventually congealed over her skin. Her mouth gaped as she gasped for air and shrieked with each blow. Her whole body now swung wildly at the end of the rope and her back, from her shoulders to the base of her buttocks, glowed raw red in the dim light of the cellar.

Her throat hurt as her screams turned hoarse, the inflamed membranes making it difficult to make any noise. Eventually, as the blows continued to fall, and her body swung uncontrollably in mid-air, she could make no further sound save for a continuous moaning, interspersed with a sharp groan as the pain dug deep into her defenceless body.

She fainted and the man, bathed in sweat himself, stopped the relentless swinging of his arm.

A tall woman came onto the stage from the outer darkness and threw a bucket of ice cold water over Kristen. She jerked into consciousness, her eyes fluttering against her cheeks, but she could make no other movement. She moaned softly as she felt the fire of the lash burning her but she felt no despair. Instead she felt an inner glow that was at odds with the torment of her skin. She hung suspended, upside down, waiting…

The man walked around her body until he was facing her front.


This time the pain was worse. The lash landed squarely across her breasts making them lift and bounce from the blow. Kristen groaned and closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see. She groaned again as another blow sent her breasts bouncing and swinging in all directions. Another blow, then another. The man was concentrating all his effort on her perfect globes, turning them pink, then red and finally deep crimson as the lash fell again and again.

Through her pain Kristen felt the small inner warmth spread outwards, from the depths of her belly to her loins. This was a different sensation to what she was experiencing on the outside of her flesh. The blows eventually moved from her abused breasts down her rib cage to her pumping, gyrating belly. Her groans became mingled with long, wailing, keening sounds as she felt the inner glow suddenly shoot into her loins with the force of a lightening bolt. Suspended upside down as she was, her head still managed to jerk back to touch her spine as the sexual energy attacked her lower body. She grunted as her body responded. The lash still fell.

The audience were now masturbating themselves violently. Lost in the sights and the sounds from the stage. Their imaginations running riot in minds oblivious to their surroundings.

Then, even as Kristen released a final shrill shriek, as her orgasm broke free from it’s internal confines and rushed throughout her being, forcing her body into an uncontrolled spasmodic shuddering, some of the audience reached their own release and began spurting semen from rigid penises.

The room became full of noise as Kristen’s orgasm went on an on. The audience moaned and grunted in empathy as each cock exploded its load into the cool air of the cellar. And the lash repeatedly fell.

Slowly though, the group masturbation slowed and stopped, leaving each man lying back breathlessly in his seat. And as the audience görükle escort bayan quietened so too did the lash.

For Kristen there was no rest, no respite. The rope around her ankles was slowly lowered and her body was caught in the arms of two naked male helpers who had appeared out of the surrounding darkness. As they caught her body with their hands, they both moved forward, allowing their own nakedness and aroused penises to slide up her skin. From her forehead, over her face and chin, down her neck, her breasts and her stomach. Each penis leaving a trail of slime as the men ejaculated against her sliding flesh. Her ankles were released and she was half carried, half dragged, to a large wooden cross at the rear of the stage. Against this she was pushed backwards. A movement which caused her to moan aloud as her striped back made contact with the wood. Quickly her wrists and ankles were fastened to the structure with padded manacles. The men returned to the darkness leaving her in the classic crucifix position.

A new torturer and a new torture. The tall woman dressed entirely in a body hugging, leather cat-suit, seemed to materialise in front of the eyes of the quietened audience. Most of the men present still had their hands clasped around their cocks, constantly stroking and rubbing them into hardness. But their eyes were fixed intently on the movements of the Catwoman as she raised both her hands. In one she gripped the handle of an opened briefcase. The audience once again started to grow agitated as they recognised the contents. Rows of needles glistened in the harsh lights bathing the stage. Big and small they nestled against the black cloth of the case’s interior. Menacing in their look, menacing in their intent.

Catwoman’s other hand held a number of strong rubber loops of different sizes.

Those in the audience who had visited the club previously whispered excitedly to their companions who were making their first visit. For a brief moment the cellar was filled with the sound of soft murmurs. Then once again it grew silent. The atmosphere of anticipation grew more palpable.

Catwoman sauntered over to Kristen and placed the briefcase at the girl’s feet. She took one of the larger rubber loops from her hand and threaded it onto her other arm so that it rested in the crook of her elbow. Then moving to one side, she took hold of one of Kristen’s quivering breasts, pulling and squeezing it gently. Kristen jerked at the touch. Her moans once again beginning to make themselves heard as she felt a mixture of pleasure and pain fill her mind. Her badly thrashed tits, already swollen from the beating they had received, grew even larger as her sexual arousal increased in intensity. The nipple on the breast being manipulated was tweaked and pulled until it stood rigidly hard from the softer mound that quivered in growing lust.

Suddenly the hand, a second before so gently and loving, turned into a talon of pain as it grabbed the breast in a tight, restricting grip, at the same time pulling it sharply away from Kristen’s rib cage, forcing it into a conical shape. The woman raised her arm sharply allowing the rubber loop to drop to her wrist and then over the trapped breast. She let go of the flesh allowing it to spring back but with the loop now forcing it into a bulbous shape. Catwoman quickly took hold of the loop and pulled it up Kristen’s tit to where it met her chest. Then she let go.

Kristen felt the restriction, but she felt no pain. Looking down at herself she saw the slight swelling of her breast as it escaped the confines of the loop. A second loop quickly followed. This was much smaller and as it was pulled into place next to the first the breast began to bulge more noticeably. A third followed then a fourth. Now Kristen could feel the beginning of pain as her uncovered flesh was forced into a larger and larger ball shape by the tightness of the loops. Her skin grew tauter as it could only expand outwards. Each new loop smaller than the previous one. By the time only the end of her breast was loop free it was bulging painfully. Distorted completely by the tight restriction of the rest of the tit flesh. Kristen swayed her upper body away from the upright of the cross trying to ease the growing ache in her abused breast. Her un-looped breast swung from side to side as she moved. But not for long.

Catwoman quickly went to the other side of Kristen and began repeating the torture. It wasn’t bursa escort long before both breasts were encased in a rubber covering. The uncovered flesh of both turning a deeper, vein filled, crimson, first started by the lashing they had received. Kristen was panting fast and hard. Drawing in what breath she could. Then, without warning, Catwoman lowered her hand to Kristen’s groin and began gently rubbing and caressing her vagina. For a second the girl’s panting stopped then restarted more urgently as desire flooded her body. Her cunt juices already flowing, began to run in a faster, more plentiful stream and her moans began once again to fill the air. For many minutes Catwoman played with the girl. Almost, but not quite bringing her to orgasm. The sweat, which had dried on Kristen’s skin, once again turned her into a sopping, dripping mass. Keening her lust into the darkness.

Just as quickly as she had started, Catwoman stopped, leaving Kristen gasping, willing her orgasm to take her. But she was disappointed as her strumming nerve endings slowed, and then stopped, their relentless pressure. Her rising orgasm disappeared.

She opened her fluttering eyelids and saw something small and shiny held between two fingers. She couldn’t focus through the sweat pouring down her face and she sensed, rather than saw, the fingers approach her body. Then her mouth gaped open and, hoarse or not, her throat could not stop the long high-pitched shriek which assaulted the ears of the audience. Kristen could not believe the pain. It was worse than the whipping. It was deeper and more concentrated on just a small area of her flesh. The hand approached her again. Something small flashed in the light. Then the pain hit again.


Now her left breast was burning. It was on fire with a terrible torment. The swollen flesh, turning forever darker in its rubber bonds, was now slowly being covered with small pinpoints of light as the pins were thrust into the skin leaving just the heads exposed. Once again the audience were out of control as they watched the torture of the young girl. Grunts and groans from male voices mingled with the higher, single shrieks of a girl in torment. Again and again pins were pushed firmly into plump, hard flesh. Again and again Kristen’s screams were forced from her throat. But once again the tempo suddenly changed.

The Whipmaster returned to the stage, but this time his role was more benign. He dropped to his knees at Kristen’s feet and, easing her thighs apart, raised his face to thrust his tongue into her still wet vagina. Kristen shrieked, Kristen screamed but now Kristen moaned as the familiar feeling of an orgasm began to grow inside her. The wriggling, licking tongue caressed and sucked at her clitoris and even as the pins were rapidly pushed into her breast she finally reached her sought after orgasm. Neck taut, mouth gaping open, saliva pouring down her chin she screamed her pleasure and her pain to the watching audience.

Catwoman moved to Kristen’s right breast and repeated her task. The Whipmaster continued to suck and nibble and Kristen’s body tensed and relaxed as orgasms swept over her with relentless regularity. Her right breast was almost covered in pinheads and her left reflected the light with each movement of her body. Soon both globes were encased in a skin of metal. Contrasting sharply with the paler colour of her rib cage and her belly. She shuddered her way to her final climax before the Whipmaster withdrew his tongue, rose to his feet and left the stage.

Kristen was left hanging in her bonds away from the cross, her knees buckling slightly as she hovered in and out of consciousness. She hardly felt the extra pain as the Catwoman attached two serrated nipple clamps to her rock hard, extended nipples. Catwoman then left, leaving Kristen alone, being studied by the thirty men that made up the audience. They too were exhausted but as they watched the naked figure of the girl with the metal tits and the nipple clamps, their arousal once again became apparent. Slowly, as one, they rose from their seats and shuffled onto the stage as if not to disturb the tableau before them.

The first man to fuck Kristen did so quickly. Finally giving way to the second man. They formed themselves into a loose line that slowly moved forward as Kristen became the vessel for their spunk. She could only murmur softly as the men pushed against her body causing the pain in her breasts to increase sharply as the pins were touched and pushed by the men’s own naked bodies. But a keen ear could hear pleasure, more than her pain.

Finally the last man ejaculated into her sopping cunt and withdrew, and soon she was left alone, hanging from the cross, in the silence of the cellar…

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