Hello everyone and happy April Fools' Day!
Wow, gone for over a year, never expected I'd be gone so long. Sorry about that, everybody. A lot of real-life issues have come up over the past year, I got a bit depressed when two of my dogs suddenly died early last year, then got busy helping family remodel a very old house upstate that has taken a lot of my time, then had some more emotional issues this past few months that I'm finally starting to get over (I think/hope).
So it's been a lot of things distracting me and I haven't gotten nearly as much writing done as I'd hoped. But with any luck I'm finally getting things back under control, and can get out of this rut I've been in.
Today I have a brand new short-story, featuring the return of the Midnight Surgeon, the body-modification obsessed villain introduced in my ebook Psycho Ward Nightmare. Here he's mostly reduced to a cameo, but the whole 2500-word story features his handiwork.
I'm working on an ebook with him as the main villain, in what will probably be along a similar vein to my Amy's Whore Makeover story, which should make some people happy, as I've had a lot of emails asking for a follow-up or sequel. This won't be a sequel, but should have a similar body-mod theme.
As always, click the Read More to see the new story, and no, this is not a mean April Fool's prank!
Please let me know what you think, and sorry again for disappearing for so long, everyone!
by Tabitha Kohls
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Tasha glared up at her unconscious stepsister, feeling the full weight of the girl splayed atop her own naked body. Alison had finally passed out an hour earlier, and no amount of yelling would arouse her.
It's not like I'm not exhausted too, Tasha thought bitterly, as she painfully tried to roll her sister off her. The sharp pain in her tongue from her attempts to speak was nothing compared to the electric agony that shot through her sex, as she failed to shove the larger girl over.
Panting for breath straight into her stepsister's open mouth, Tasha fought back an urge to scream, instead waiting for the pain to subside. Screaming would only make her tongue hurt more, as she had learned from painful experience since their captor brought them both here.
She stared helplessly around the room, as the painful spasms died back down to the dull ache she'd grown almost used to. Most of her view was obstructed by Alison's thick blonde locks falling over her face, but the watching eyes along the wall were all-too visible even through the curtain of golden braids.
The "eyes" were the silent, unblinking lenses of a dozen peeping webcams, set into the wall with a clear view of the tiny room that had been the girls' private prison cell the past week. She knew there were another dozen identical cameras set in the other walls, all peering across the tiny bed that made up the centerpiece of the room. Even the cramped bathroom that opened beside the bed was filled with the cameras, denying them even that minor bit of privacy.
But even through her stepsister's thick hair, she could see the tiny red lights were all off; for now, at least, they were not being peeped upon by who-knows-how-many perverted middle-aged men.
She had no delusions that they weren't being watched by him, of course.
Wakeup, Alison! Tasha mentally screeched, not bothering to try yelling it again. Her tongue tasted the metallic tang of fresh blood, either her own or her stepsister's, she couldn't say. Perhaps both.
She and her stepsister had been at a party off-campus the last time they'd been free. They'd both had too much to drink, and were, as usual, having the mother-of-all-bitchfests on their walk back to the dorm room they shared. The school had paired them both as roommates, the computer apparently going by order of name, and by the time they'd realized the mistake, they'd been too late to switch places with anyone.
Alison's father had married Tasha's mother only a few months before, and both girls utterly hated each other with a passion. Both had been bitter rivals throughout high school, long before their parents had broken the horrid news of their engagement at the beginning of their Senior year. Nine months later, and Tasha's last name was suddenly Thompson, and she had a brand new stepsister sharing her bathroom each morning.
Their rivalry had carried over into college, and the two had been so distractedly engaged in cursing out the other, that neither had noticed the white van pull up beside them as they waited for the university shuttle to reach the bus stop.
Tasha had awoken to both a massive headache, worse than any previous hangover, and to the sight of her stepsister staring back at her from mere inches away. Their bodies had been firmly pressed together, and to both their horror, utterly naked!
Over the next few minutes, their plight had become readily apparent; both girls were naked and splayed out on a single bed, set up in a very passable copy of their dorm room, though the furniture and posters on the walls were not theirs. Nor were the dozens of empty bottles of baby oil scattered around the room, or the stained thongs and colorful g-strings piled in the corner.
Or the huge amount of lesbian porn DVD cases stacked beside the tiny television.
Nor was the plastic clothesbasket filled with neon-colored silicone double dildos, vibrating wands, butt-plugs, or giant strands of anal-beads something they'd ever have sitting beside the bed.
More alarming than the porn and sex toys, was the total lack of a door out of the ten by fourteen foot room. Tasha's careful observation of the fifty or so webcams she'd found, showed that all of the cameras were angled so as to be centered on the bed (or the shower and toilet, in the case of the bathroom cameras).
There was a single blind spot purposely left in the room; the far corner from the bathroom door, which was itself permanently bolted open in such a fashion that they couldn't budge it closed.
Their captor always entered through a panel in that corner, totally invisible to the cameras. Without a door there, the girls couldn't even make a show of beating on it to inform their audience that they weren't here of their own choice, in stark contrast to the claim made by the big banner running along the entire upper portion of the room's walls.
She glared up at the banner, reading it again for the thousandth time. " Scissoring Stepsluts, Making Their Parents Proud, One Orgasm At A Time!"
It made her queasy every time she saw it, for she knew that that was exactly how the two of them appeared to their unseen audience.
When they'd first awoken in the room, they'd quickly learned the nature of their horrible predicament. They were bound, naked, oily bodies pressed firmly together, but their bonds weren't chains or ropes or even handcuffs. No, their bonds were far, far more insidious.
Tasha gingerly tried moving her tongue around, the sting from her tongue piercing and the taste of fresh blood had made her salivate more than she already did, and she desperately needed to swallow now. She tried not to think of how much of the growing pool of saliva filling her cheeks was actually Alison's, dripping down their entwined tongues and filling her mouth.
She swallowed, nearly crying out as the motion tugged her tongue backward, the three titanium studs that permanently passed through her tongue and Alison's resisting the movement and flooding her taste buds with fresh blood again. It was definitely her tongue that was bleeding, her piercings still fresh after a week. The constant tugging back and forth of the lip-locked girls was keeping her piercings from healing as quickly as they might normally.
Thanks to the three metal bars locking their tongues together, Tasha and Alison had been forced to French kiss continuously over the past week. Their captor refused to unlock them, no matter how angrily or desperately they pleaded in their garbled voices. He fed them once a day through a funnel pushed between their lips, purposely pouring all of their food into only one of their mouths, so that they had to share the thick, slimy pureed slop with their stepsister. It was just one of many humiliations they'd been forced to share over the past week of their confinement.
Annoying and painful as their mutual tongue piercings were, that was nothing compared to the other piercings locking them together.
Both of their right nipples were pierced with thick, heavy silver-toned rings. Since they were locked atop each other, the rings never touched, so anyone watching on the webcams wouldn't see them as being locked together.
However, both girls' left nipples had been implanted with a tiny, hard object. Their captor had shown it to them, even as he pierced each nipple and pushed the tiny bead under the skin, using simple super-glue to seal the small wounds shut.
The beads in each nipple were thoroughly hidden from the watching cameras, but each girl felt the constant tug from the embedded rare-earth magnet, as it pulled her nipple onto her stepsister's ring.
Sometimes, particularly when an orgasm overcame one of them, and they arched their backs, they'd pull away from each other's chest momentarily and send their nipples painfully straining toward the other's. It added just another bit of torment into their day.
Of course, their nipple piercings were nothing compared to the tragedy that was their pussies.
Tasha slowly, carefully stretched her leg out, trying to avoid a rapidly developing cramp. The motion had to be done with great caution, for even the tiniest movement could send a torrent of white-hot agony through them both.
Alison's clitoris had been pierced ages ago, long before she was old enough to legally have the work done, but Tasha hadn't been so lucky. Her clit was still pulsating in constant pain from the massive grommet that had been pushed through it, while her stepsister's clit was long-since healed.
Alison wasn't entirely without discomfort, of course. The tiny bar that had long pierced her own nub had been replaced with a very thick ring, stretching the tiny hole terribly. The ring itself was permanently threaded through Tasha's new grommet, locking the two former rivals together, clit-to-clit.
Yet, even this paled to the violation below, as he had gone far beyond the mere double-clit piercings, and had fully pierced both girls' innermost folds with at least twelve more rings, as near as Tasha's fingers could tell. Six rings per lip, locking both of their pussies smashed horribly together, their still untouched outer labia lip-locked together, in a horrible parody of their own lip-locked mouths.
Their legs had been interlaced over each other, and with their bodies now tied together so tightly and closely, they had no room to shift their legs to a more dignified position. As it was, both were fully, and permanently, stuck together in the classic lesbian scissoring pose. Every movement, no matter how subtle, made them seem to be purposely grinding their gashes together for the amusement of their horny audience.
And that didn't consider the massive double dildo their captor had locked inside them. The horrid phallus was silent now, but the second those little red-lights above the cameras came on, the turgid silicone dong would spring to life inside them both, buzzing away like mad. Despite their natural revulsion to each other and the horror of their captivity, it was impossible not to grow aroused with the vibrating sex toy buried inside them, and soon their grinding would become all-too-real....
Tasha felt the building cramp ease as her leg stretched out fully, hanging out over the edge of the diminutive bed. Their legs were the only things truly free, what good it did them.
She slowly rubbed her wrists, the skin chafed where her handcuffs sat snug. Her arms were locked behind Alison's back, just as the other girl's wrists were trapped behind her. The cuffs were covered in pink fur - at least hers were, she'd never seen Alison's - and looked like the sort of toy BDSM gear a pair of lipstick-lesbians would own. But the steel under the fur was real enough and Tasha hadn't felt a bit of give in them.
To her annoyance, Alison began to snore, right into her face. It'd been bad enough when she'd been awoken by the girl's honking in the middle of the night in their separate beds across the dorm room, but this was pitifully irritating.
Her annoyance only served to remind her of their last moments of freedom, however, and her growing anger gave way as she recalled their final argument a week before.
"You're a cow, shaking those fake udders in every guy's face, you aren't even that drunk, you skank!!"
"Fuck you, bitch!! At least I have a set of tits, you can't even get those lezzies in your art classes hot for you!"
"Well, maybe if your father had married my mother sooner, I'd have gotten a huge boobjob for my sweet sixteenth too!"
Those had been the very last words either stepsister had said to the other. Or at least, the last intelligible words. For only a second afterward, Tasha had felt a horrible burning pain in her neck, and just had time to see a second pair of taser needles strike Alison, right above the D-cups that had started their drunken fight, before the darkness overtook her.
Tasha blinked as she heard the telltale scratching of the heavy bolt in the door. He's back!!
"Owwiffimmm!!! Wommphupppghhh!!!!" She smacked her handcuffed hands up and down on the sleeping girl's rump, until Alison finally awoke with a startled snort, accidentally turning her head before the pain in their tongues broke her back to their nightmarish reality.
"Hello ladies, don't let me interrupt..." The infamous Midnight Surgeon chuckled, stepping through the open door.
Peering through Alison's hair, Tasha looked past the brute's towering form. The tiny mocked-up dorm room seemed to be inside of some sort of barn or other outbuilding, what little she could see through the door. Clearly the light passing through the one and only tiny window above the bed was as fake as everything else in the cramped room.
He pulled a small cloth-covered cart into the room, as both girls tried to coordinate their movements enough to sit up. Running through the still open door was simply out of the question, but at least they could manage better than impotently laying in bed, waiting for the fiend to fall upon them.
"Now, girls, I just want to think you for your efforts this past week, the website has been a huge success--" He waved about his face, wrinkling his nose. "Lordy, this place reeks of wet pussy, you girls sure were having fun last night, weren't you? Didn't even have time for a shower, huh?"
Tasha saw Alison's face blush, and felt her own heat up, as they both recalled the horrible evening before. The dildo's battery had been freshly recharged, and the cameras had been on nonstop all night.
"Well, good news, cunts!" The man whipped off the cloth from the cart, revealing two sets of bizarre blobs on a metal tray, along a series of syringes and a variety of scalpels that sent an icy shiver down the girls' spines. "Now that you two have proven you can actually make me a profit, it's time to start investing in your assets. Now that I'm free of that asylum, I'm going to need lots of cash to get back to my work, and you stepsluts are going to be my cashcows."
He patted the strange blobs with a gloved hand, sending the mounds jiggling. "And these black market wonders are going to make you two the most popular webcam-whores ever!"
Both girls gasped as they finally realized what the blobs were, but the notorious serial-mutilator ignored them, continuing as he picked up the syringes, "They only just arrived from my contacts in Asia, hard to get and expensive since they were banned, but well-worth the price. They're called polypropylene implants, but most folks just call them silly-string implants. Besides being massive to begin with, they have one very unique quality that got them banned in this hemisphere in the first place."
He approached the girls, as they futilely tried to back away, waving the needles in both hands. "But I'll leave you two to discover that fun fact for yourselves. Let's just say, despite your piercings, you two will be growing apart over the next few years...."
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