in the space where the seat should have been. I had looked forward to beauty, but he had failed me there, too.
"N-not here, not like this. I can't!" His voice rose in a pathetic wail.
"It's this or nothing. Here or nowhere," I told him.
"By the way, in case you're wondering, you're strapped into a Judas chair." Carefully, I explained how the chair worked. I wanted him to make an informed choice. As I talked, his skin turned grey and clammy with fear. When I explained about the electricity, he lost it completely. Piss dribbled from his cock, splashing on the floor beneath him. The stink of warm urine rose and choked me.
I slapped him so hard his head cracked against the back board of the Judas chair. He cried out, and tears sprang into his eyes.
"You dirty, filthy baby," I shouted at him. You don't deserve my love.
Look at you, pissing and crying like some little girl. You're not a man. "
Hearing my mother's words coming from my mouth shattered my self-control as nothing else could have done. I kept hitting him, revelling in the crunch of cartilage as his nose collapsed under my fist. I was beside myself with anger. He'd fooled me into thinking he was something he wasn't. I'd thought Paul was strong and brave, intelligent and sensitive. But he was just a stupid, cowardly, lecherous pig, a pathetic excuse for a man. How had I ever let myself imagine he could be a worthy partner^ He wasn't even resisting, just sitting there mewing like a kitten, letting me hit him.
Panting with exertion and anger, I finally stopped. I stepped back and stared contemptuously at him, watching his tears wash lines through the blood on his face.
"You brought this on yourself," I hissed. All my careful plans had gone up in smoke.
But now, I didn't want to give him the second chance I'd given Adam.
I didn't want Paul's love, not under any circumstances. He didn't deserve me. I stepped round to the back of the chair and grasped the tongue of the strap.
"No," he whimpered.
"Please, no."
"You had your chance," I said angrily.
"You had your chance and you blew it. You've no one to blame but yourself, coming here and pissing on the floor like a baby who can't control itself." I pulled the strap, tightening it enough to let me slip it free of the buckle.
Then I let it slide free.
Paul's muscles instantly clenched, holding him rigidly in place, a scant half-inch above the spike. I moved round into his line of vision and slowly stripped off, caressing my body, imagining what his hands would have felt like. His eyes bulged with effort as he tried to keep himself in place. I sat down and slowly, deliciously began to rub myself, irresistibly turned on by his fight to stay away from the agonizing spike.
"You could have been doing this," I sneered, aroused still further by the quivering of his thighs and calves.
"You could have been making love instead of fighting to keep your arse in working order."
If he'd worked out like Adam had, the pleasure would have lasted longer. As it was, his screams of agony mingled with my groans of pleasure. I came like a Guy Fawkes rocket, fire flashing through me and erupting in an orgasm that had me buckling at the knees.
He tried to pull free, but the barbs just cut deeper into his tender flesh. I lay back in the chair, savouring the waves of pleasure that flowed through me after my orgasm, Paul's moans and screams an extravagant counterpoint to my sexual satisfaction.
As time passed, he sank lower on the spike, and his screams moderated to whimpering groans. To my surprise, I felt sexual desire rise in me again. After the exquisite pleasure of my first orgasm, I wanted my excitement matched again. I reached for the control box for the electrical current to the spike, and pressed the button that completed the circuit. Even with a relatively low current, Paul's body convulsed in an arc that wrenched him almost clear of the spike, a fine spray of blood spattering the floor for a couple of feet around.
I matched the rhythms of our two bodies, the speed and intensity of our mutual excitement keeping perfect pace. I felt my muscles quiver like his as I thrust against my hand. As I came, my body arched in sync with his, my gasps echoed by his last agonized cries before unconsciousness came.
I have to