Daisy Gets the Treatment She Wants – ch 02

DAISY GETS THE TREATMENT SHE WANTS – Ch 02

** Daisy’s two-week adventure continues as she is roughly bound, glory-holed again and shocked in preparation for Bill’s big party. **

[Day 1 (Saturday) – early evening]

Over dinner, David introduced me to his three friends. Mark was the kind of guy you just naturally asked “so you played some football in college, eh?” A big side of beef standing about 6 foot 2 and two-hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle. His interest in Daisy as purely back-door. Of all the photographs of Daisy that I’d sent David, Mark was interested in only one. A doggie-style pose of her holding her ass cheeks open. He showed me that he kept it in his wallet. That was a little scary, even for me.

Marco was a slim, elegantly dressed man with some kind of Latin look. I couldn’t guess and he didn’t offer, so I don’t think I’ll ever know. He was along for ride largely as an option. Marco had known David a long time and was David’s pipeline to illicit substances. If David wanted to get high — or to get Daisy high — Marco was the man.

The third one in the group surprised me completely. It was a woman named Donna. She wore her hair shaved short, had a five o’clock shadow, no chest at all, and dressed in a casual “jeans and t-shirt” style that completely fooled me. David laughed at my surprised look. “Not many people guess it right,” he said. David told me that Donna was in it for one thing and one thing only: the pain.

“So, how have I been doing?” I asked. I cut another bit of the chicken marsala and twirled some capellini around it.

“You don’t do much of this, do you?” she asked. I was taken aback a bit. She took a sip of wine, eyes locked with mine. “Do you?” she repeated.

“Well, I mean, it’s not an everyday thing,” I managed before she laughed. “I’ve seen worse,” she said with a big grin. I smiled. Fuck you. Though, I have to admit I was curious. It’s always fascinating to me to see what others come up with that I’ve never thought of. I’m guessing Donna could teach me a thing or two.

“How do you think she’s doing?” Marco asked. “That floor mat was fucking evil.”

I nodded. “A friend of mine suggested it a few years ago and I’ve kept the idea around ever since. Daisy was the perfect candidate to try it out.”

“I’ll say. She’s fucking twisted,” Mark said. “Never saw anyone who came at it like this. She never says ‘enough’ does she?”

I shook my head. “And it wouldn’t matter, would it?”

David looked at me. I knew what he was thinking. Both he and I knew Daisy’s safeword and he and I were just as sure she would never use it. But the others didn’t know that. They didn’t need to.

Just before we finished our dinner, Donna called the waitress over. “Can you get some of the Giardiniera to go?” She smiled at me. “I *am* going to have a turn, right?”

I nodded.

David closed his cell phone. “It’s all set up. They said to have her there at ten so they can get things set up. The party kicks off at eleven and runs till morning.” He gave me a wide smile. “You are guaranteed to like this.”


Mark leaned over and poured the panful of ice water over Daisy’s head. She jerked up, sputtering, cried out as her body weight shifted on the spikes and rolled sideways off of the mat. The talc stuck to her side and legs, the water making a thin paste. Mark threw her a towel. “Clean the mess up.”

Daisy did her best but I could tell that every muscle was stiff and sore. Her skin was still bright red from the scrubbing and you could see the indentations in her skin where the rows of spikes had been. She wiped the water and talc as best she could while we got our drinks from the kitchen. We came back and gathered around her, just watching her rubbing the towel slowly across the same spot on the floor.

We’d agreed she needed at least an hour’s sleep before we delivered her to David’s party, which meant we had just over ninety minutes. I watched her with interest as she kept moving the towel. What was she thinking? Was she stalling for time? Unable to figure out what to do next? Enthralled by her own level of servitude? Her ass was gorgeous, even striped and coated with talc, her body held up. Firm and ripe, inviting so much more punishment. And Mark’s cock. The more I watched it swaying back and forth as she rubbed the towel, the more I needed to get started on her again. It screamed to be attacked, used and violated.

“Daisy,” I said calmly.

“Yes, Sir,” she answered, still wiping the floor.

“Bring me the Pear.”

She looked around the room and found it where I’d left it, on one of the small tables near the window. She tried to stand up but was too weak so she started crawling across the floor. The sway of her ass was just too enticing, I didn’t want to wait. I nearly jumped up and got it myself but I took a breath and composed myself. When she tried to rise up to get the Pear, her body gave out and she fell flat on the floor.

“That’s all right, dear. We have time,” I said with the most condescending tone I could muster. She pulled her way up the side of the table, using the table legs to steady herself, and grabbed for the Pear before she collapsed again. She held it in her teeth and crawled back to me. I held out my hand and she dropped it in.

“Marco, go get the gear ready,” I said while Daisy waited. Marco nodded and went into the other room. I’d explained to him how to setup the shock device and he seemed eager to give it a try.

“Turn around and open up.” She did. I slid the Pear into her cunt, getting it slick with her juice. Then, I pushed it up her ass and started turning the knob. She grunted and moaned as I went straight to a full two inches. I had her crawl around the room, letting the thing situate itself inside her before I called her back. “Ass high.” She put her forehead on the floor and raised her ass higher. I turned the knob mercilessly, not stopping until she was open a full three-and-a-half inches.

“Stand up.”

It took her three tries before she could stand for more than a few seconds. She kept her feet wide apart and squatted, knees bent and her legs at a forty-five degree angle. I had her walk around the room like that a few more times. It was horribly humiliating, I could tell from her face as she ambled open-legged around the room.

Finally, I had her stop and squat in front of us, her hands behind her neck, knees open wide. Marco laid the five black boxes on the floor in front of her. Each was about the size of a cell phone. Four contained batteries — high-charge NiMHs — and the fifth was the controller. Short wires connected the batteries in a daisy chain to the controller, which had two simple red and black leads with alligator clips at the end. He handed me the remote control, then went back and knelt directly in front of her. As he reached into the box for the first wire, I held up my hand.

“Have her do it.”

He held up the red wire and she took it. “Attach that to the red metal stud in the base of the Pear.” She took a deep breath and ran her fingers along the base. “I can’t see it, Sir.” He nodded and asked if a anyone had a mirror. We all shook our heads.

“Daisy,” I said, inspired by a new idea. “Go ahead and pull out the Pear and see which post is red.” For the first time, she showed real fear. I couldn’t blame her. If the base of the Pear was opened three inches, the head was at least six. I stared at her a full minute, letting the horror of her situation sink in fully. “What are you waiting for?” Without a word, she started pulling at the knob. She squatted deeper and pushed, I could see the effort she was making by the muscles in her neck. She was sweating and grunting, pulling hard with both hands. The thing slid an inch or two downward but wouldn’t come out.

“Mark, can you help her?” I said calmly.

She broke down then, crying and begging us to “turn it just a few turns, please, please, make it just a little bit smaller, I’ve been good, I’ve been so good, I’ve…” While she whined, Mark bent her over his the table and grabbed the base of the Pear. She looked at me with wild eyes, “Peter, Sir, please, it’ll ruin me, it will ruin your pleasu . . . . . AAARGGHGHGHGHH!!!!” Mark held up the Pear, Daisy continued to moan louder than ever until Marco pushed his cock into her mouth. He held her hair tight and fucked her face but we weren’t done. Mark dropped his pants and spit on his cock. It swelled to a full eight inches long and nearly three inches around. He rammed it into Daisy and held her hips as she squirmed and jerked on the table, her legs opening wider and wider trying to reduce the pain as he fucked hard and fast in her ass. When they both came, I handed her the fully-expanded Pear again. “In your pussy,” I said. The look of relief on her face was incredible, I wanted to fuck her again. That’s the thing about Daisy, she has an indescribable look that makes you want to hurt her, then hug her, then fuck her, then hurt her again. She rolled over on her back, opened her legs, and pushed the thing in without too much trouble. “Six inches wide,” David said as he watched. “Fucking amazing.”

Daisy put her hands back behind her head and stood, legs closer together this time. “All right, Marco” I said. He handed her the red wire again. She trembled and cried again, “I didn’t look, I forgot to look…” Marco took her hand and showed her which was red, which was black. She connected the two wires when he handed them to her.

“You know full well what’s coming, don’t you?” I taunted.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell us.”

“Sh…sh…shock…insi…side…m.m.my…p.pu..pussy…AAHH!” I pushed and released the button a few more times while she answered. The dial was turned to 3, it was only a mild sensation for now. It was important to let it build. Especially the anticipation in her mind. That would be the worst.

I set it to a mild wave and let her body get used to it. As I adjusted the speed, Daisy’s body responded. Donna was fascinated and leaned closer, watching Daisy’s face. Her lips and eyes were both half open. Her hips moved back and forth like she was being fucked. “Amazing,” Donna said softly. She told me she hadn’t done any electric play and hadn’t expected this at all.

“It’s not just for shock and pain. At the right settings, it’s quite pleasurable.” I turned back to Daisy. “Isn’t that right.” Daisy was rocking back and forth, her hand between her legs rubbing her clit. I watched her closely, gauging her again for an orgasm. Just as she got there, I barked “stop” and jolted her. She gave a yelp and pulled her hand away from her crotch.

Marco held up the other conductor, a long, thin metal probe with two short wires. “Ready for this?” I nodded and he handed it to Daisy. “You know what to do.” She put the tip in her mouth, wet it, then reached around behind and pushed it deep into her ass. “Wire yourself up,” Marco said. Daisy reached down between her legs and felt for the two dangling wires. “Which is which?” she asked. Marco laughed. “Doesn’t matter. Never did. You really should have asked before.” Daisy took a deep breath, obviously trying to control the anger she felt. She never had to do any of what we just put her through. “If you knew anything about electronics, you would have asked, but you don’t, do you?” Marco leaned close to her and gave her a gentle slap across the face. “Maybe you should hit the books a little harder than you hit the mattress?”

When Daisy had the wires clipped in place, I handed her a dress. This one was a button-front dress with a layer of beige cotton, knee length, short sleeved, high neck with no belt. But underneath it was different altogether. The entire lining was rough burlap. There was a strip of the floormat plastic behind her ass, down the back of each thigh and up both sides of her back. Sitting in a chair would be hell.

“Don’t put it on yet,” I told her. She stood with the dress draped over her arm. “Let’s make this a little more interesting. Mark, bring me those leather laces we used earlier.” We tied them around the base of her nipples again, knotting them tight so they didn’t slip off. I wrapped a three-inch leather belt around her waist and pulled it tight. “Inhale.” She did and I pulled tighter. “Again.” By the time I buckled it, she was taking short, quick breaths and staring straight ahead, trying to stay focused and calm.

I took the ends of the laces and pushed them through the belt buckle. “Lean forward a bit.” She bent at the waist, the belt cutting into her skin. I adjusted her up and down until she was just slightly hunched, barely enough for anyone but her to notice. But she would notice.

I tied the ends off to the belt buckle and had her walk around the room. It was horrible for her, she had to keep her body precisely at a point that balanced the pain from the belt and the pain from laces ripping at her nipples.

I unhooked the wires from the Pear. “Stand at the frame.” She moved to the frame, still bent and moving slowly. “Reach up and grab the overhead beam.” She tried but couldn’t straighten her body enough to reach that high. “Do it!” I barked. She reached higher, inching her hands up the edge of the frame until she was erect. Her nipples stretching more than two inches, her breathes coming fast and short now. I picked up the strap and gave her a single lash across the shoulders. She screamed and dropped her hands from the beam. “Up.” Body trembling and tears flowing, she straightened up. I gave her five more across the shoulders then told her to relax. She fell to her knees, her body hunching and straightening, hunching and straightening as the belt bit into her belly. When she finally found the spot that caused the least amount of pain, she stopped and stood very still, panting and trembling.

“Thirsty?” I asked. I knew she was, she hadn’t had anything to drink since she got off the plane over nine hours ago. She nodded. “Hungry? Need to use the toilet?” More nods. Faster.

“I thought so,” I said. I went into the kitchen and came back with a handful of salted nuts. “More hungry or thirsty?” She looked at them and at me and lowered her eyes. “I thought so,” I said, popping the nuts into my mouth.

“May I use the bathroom, Sir?” I ignored her and picked up the black boxes. “Marco, duct tape. Open your legs further.” She did. Marco handed me the tape and I attached the batteries and the controller along the insides of her thighs. Then, I reattached the wires. “There we go.” I handed her the dress again. “Now, we can get you dressed.”

Daisy moved very slowly, doing her best to balance the pain shooting up the front of her boy with the pain between her legs. When she was done, she stood and we stared at her. She needed a bath, she needed her hair washed and she needed makeup. She stood with her shoulders hunched forward, her knees open, a look of complete devastation on her face.

“This will never do.” I said. “Donna, would you do the honors?” Donna nodded. She took Daisy into the bathroom and closed the door. Fifteen minutes later, the door swung open and Donna led Daisy by the hand back into the room. She looked even worse. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and she winced with each small step, her body shaking and swaying from side to side. She was moaning, her eyes were nearly shut. Donna gave me a smile that sent chills up my spine. “Oh fuck, that was fun. And she licks pussy like nobody’s business!” She put a surprised look on her face. “Oh, you wanted me to clean her up?” She turned around and pulled Daisy’s arm again. “Come on.”


Mark, Daisy and I took a taxi from the suite to North Beach and brought Daisy back into the strip club. The others went straight to David’s party. The ride was horrible for her, the spikes digging into her ass, back and thighs. Every time he hit a bump or turned a corner, she gasped, bit her lip and shook. Her eyes bulged and she held her breath, struggling to maintain composure. At one point, I leaned over and put my thumb in her mouth. She sucked furiously, doing everything she could to distract herself from the plastic runners digging into her flesh.

I brought her to the same club we’d been at earlier. The manager noticed the change in her walk right away but didn’t say anything. He led us back to the men’s room and set her in the same stall. She tried squatting, bending, and leaning but all were painful and she ended up on her knees, hunched forward, lips wrapped around a thick, hard cock, swimming in the inevitable pain as he pumped in and out of her mouth. I handcuffed one of her ankles to the stall and we went back into the main room to watch the show.

We left her there for forty minutes, watching the steady stream of men going in and out, spreading the word, lining up outside the door. When we went back in, we found her still in the same position, face and hair soaked with cum, dress pulled all the way up around her shoulders. Someone had written all over her with marker: “cum dump” “whore” “fuck me” “pig” and more decorated her back, shoulders, arms and legs. “Fuck hole” was written across her forehead and again just above and below her lips. The anal probe had been taken out and a toilet plunger pushed up her ass. The probe hung from its wire like a small tail between her legs. Her thighs were running with cum. I slid out the plunger and a gush of cum drizzled out making a sick sound. “They fuck you there?” She shook her head, crying. It must have hurt like hell, getting fucked up the ass with the Pear spread open inside her. I took a handful of toilet paper and wiped the equipment as clean as I could, pushed my finger up inside her and scooped out the cum to prevent any further damage to the gear.

Mark and I stood her up and smoothed out the dress. It covered most of the writing except, of course, for the words on her face and arms. Mark and I had to support her, she couldn’t walk. She was too tired even to try and curl up, the laces pulled mercilessly at her nipples as she moved. I had the manager let us out the back door. We wiped her down until she was presentable, then flagged a taxi and gave him the Marin County address. Daisy slumped between us, stinking of cum and moaning from the pain. We let her sleep through the ride as best she could.


David’s friend in Marin was an Engineer who’d made his fortune building custom labs for tech-bubble millionaires in Silicon Valley. He’d grown up on the East Coast and had a friendly smile, a likable personality, and a mean streak a mile long. David had sent me photos of some of Bill’s parties over the years. They looked like fantasy shots, the kinds of things you might pose and shoot but not actually do. David assured me that everything was real and I insisted we offer Daisy over to Bill’s tender mercies.

Bill stood completely immobile, watching from the porch as Daisy tried to get from the taxi to the house under her own power. Mark helped her out of the taxi and steadied her on the walkway. She was hunched over, legs open, head slumped forward, arms hanging limp at her sides. She stood like that for a long time before she slid her right foot forward tentatively, just a few inches. She started to shift her weight but let out a moan and froze. She swayed and had to use her arms to regain her balance. I looked at her. She was exhausted and in pain, crusty patches of cum along the insides of her legs, the backs of her thighs, and all over her face and neck. The burlap was scraping her raw flesh and her ass was still sore from the workout at the strip club. She was getting exactly what she told me she wanted.

“Come on, then!” Bill barked.

Daisy raised her head sharply, obediently, and, with a supreme effort, started shuffling toward the house.

“Feet up, don’t shuffle like a servant!”

Daisy lifted her foot off the ground and immediately fell over, writhing in pain as the laces and belt bit and tugged.

Bill called into the house and two men came to the door. He pointed. They picked up Daisy and carried her into the big front room.


I stood with the others and waited for her to open her eyes. We had time, we could afford to let her come to naturally. She lifted her head and slowly looked around. It took a minute for her eyes to focus. When they did, she was staring at Donna. Donna stood directly in front of her, hands on her hips, holding a pair of pliers in her hand.

Donna was dressed head-to-toe in shiny black leather. It was a man’s suit, all the way to the studded gloves and cap.

“Welcome back,” Donna said. “I want you to help me with a little inventory here,” she said, stepping closer. She raised the pliers slowly, brought them toward Daisy’s face. Daisy turned her head and closed her eyes tight. Donna pushed the pliers past her face and gripped a nail in the wall behind her head. She pulled hard and the nail came out. She handed the nail and pliers to Mark.

“You’re not as brave as I expected,” Donna sneered. “What did you think I was going to do with those?” She reached for Daisy’s nipples and pulled them hard, twisting until Daisy’s eyes watered. “Something like this?” Daisy moaned and nodded. “Or this?” Donna twisted and pulled until Daisy was leaning as far forward as the ropes allowed. I had to grit my teeth, it hurt just to watch.

“So, let’s inventory. I’m going to start a sentence and you finish it for the audience.” The two dozen or so well-dressed men and women circled closer.

“You are tied to…”

“…a wooden St. Andrew’s cross,” Daisy finished.

“Now, squeeze your thighs as best you can. What do you feel between your legs?”

“The Pear is still inside me. And the batteries are still taped to my thighs.”

“Does that scare you, Daisy?”

“Yes, Ma’am. It does.”

“Why, Daisy?”

“It will hurt like hell when you turn it on, Ma’am.”

“So, you will be a very good girl?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Shall we give them an example?”

“Please, no, Ma’am. Please, no…” Daisy squirmed against the ropes as Donna picked up the remote control and passed it from her left to her right hand, back and forth.

“Let’s keep going. The last time I ate anything was…”

“…a snack on the plane, on my overnight flight last night.”

“The last time I drank anything was…”

“…on the plane.”

Donna looked at her watch. “So, it’s safe to say she hasn’t eaten anything in over twenty-four hours. Not so horrible.” Donna leaned in closer to Daisy. “But she’s lying about the last time she drank.”

“Ma’am, I meant water or juice or…”

“I didn’t ask you that.”

“I drank, I swallowed cum, mouthfuls of cum while I was servicing cocks in the men’s room at … AAAARRRRGGGGG!!” Daisy’s body stiffened and she threw her head back, banging it against the wall while Donna held the button down and counted. “…eight…nine…ten…” She released the button and Daisy collapsed forward, sweating and panting hard.

“The last time I drank anything was…”

“…just a few hours ago, I sucked cock and swallowed and swallowed and I will do it again and I will suck your cocks if you want and I will swallow or let you shoot it on my face or…”

“Fine, fine, dear. Enough,” Donna chuckled, turning to the crowd. They gave a little round of applause and Donna half-bowed.

Donna moved in closer and whispered in Daisy’s ear, “and the last time you relieved yourself?”

“On the plane before we landed, Ma’am,” Daisy whispered.

“Louder. Tell them,” Donna said, pointing to the group.

“The…last time…I used the toilet was on the airplane coming here.”

“How long ago, Daisy?”

“Over ten hours, Ma’am.”

Donna shook her head. “You’re not being a good girl. You are not telling the truth.”

Daisy’s eyes opened wide and she pleaded, “no, Ma’am, no! No, I haven’t been into a bathroom, Ma’am, no, please….AAAARHHHHH!” Donna held the button and counted to ten again.

“Now, do you want to try again?”

“Ma’am, please, please, I’m telling you … NNNNGGHHHHH!” Daisy bit down hard on her lower lip, body arching harder this time, fingers and toes clenching. At the count of ten, Donna let go of the button and Daisy screamed, “I pissed, yes, somewhere, I don’t know where, I did, I peed, a big pool of it, I don’t know, I don’t know!” Donna reached out and stroked Daisy’s cheek with her hand. “There, there, dear, quiet, calm down, calm down.” In a minute, Daisy was trembling and crying, muttering, “I did it, yes, Ma’am, I did it, yes, Ma’am…”

“Do you remember now, Daisy?” Donna asked with an evil glint in her eye.

Daisy trembled and broke into huge, wracking sobs. I could tell she had no idea what to say, she had no memory of the way we found her in the bathroom earlier, kneeling in a pool of her own pee, her mouth still fixed on a cock coming through the wall. She must have let go while she was being ass-fucked in the stall and not even known it. It was easy to imagine with the Pear in her cunt, the laces ripping at her nipples, the cock up her ass, and her mouth occupied at the hole. Who would notice a little thing like taking a pee?

“No, Ma’am, no, I don’t, but I am sure I did and I am so, so sorry I lied to you, Ma’am…” Daisy muttered, eyes pleading, spittle trickling from the side of her mouth.

“Well, we want to make sure we don’t have that problem again,” Donna said and motioned to one of the women. The woman stepped forward and Daisy saw that she was already wearing a pair of latex gloves. The woman wheeled a tray through the group and stopped in front of Daisy. She held up a catheter tube and Daisy turned her head. She had it inserted in just a few seconds and a small trickle of yellow liquid dripped into the plastic bag.

“There, that will solve that problem,” Donna said, stroking Daisy’s chin. “Happy?” Daisy kept her head turned and her eyes closed and just nodded.

Donna clapped. “Good, then.” She stood back a few feet and examined her handiwork. Daisy hung limp and sweating on the wooden X, the Pear still deep and open inside her, the wires connected to the batteries and controller, the cath tube leading to the bag that lay on the floor between her feet.

Bill stepped forward and raised his glass in a toast. “I think we can start the main event now.” He took a drink and motioned to two of his men. They rolled the big wooden X down the hallway and into a bigger room.

— end of chapter 2