It Only Hurts All The Time

This can’t be real! This cannot be happening to me. Oh please let it all be a horrendous nightmare or crazed illusion from which I will awaken to find myself in Taun’s bed, loved and wanted, needed and cherished.

Of course the men here at the Retreat want and need me too. They want and need to watch me cry, scream and beg for mercy while they laugh and delight in ignoring my pleas.

Will I ever see Taun again? Will I feel his arms around me and his lips on mine? Probably not. And I can’t imagine I’ll find another man here as good as he was to me. I don’t know what has happened at the Retreat since I left. There used to be the cruel ones and the gentle ones; now there are only the cruel and the really, really cruel.

And ever since my stupid, messed up mind brought me back to this terrible place, I have spent every waking hour (and probably some of the time I am unconscious) with the most evil, most dangerous and most awful men that could ever exist. Even Mr. Negulesco, who has sometimes been kind to me, seems to hate me and only wants to see me suffer. And the other men? Some are strangers to me, new to the Retreat. Some I remember from before Taun took me away. But they are all awful.

You are not going to enjoy reading the next few entries, my poor sweet friend, but I know you care about me so I will share them with you.

Lat time I told you about what happened with Mr. Negulesco. At the end, after he had made me touch myself to orgasm as I lay naked on the floor surrounded by strangers, and he had forced me to say out loud how much I loved having a man’s body inside mine, he stood up from his armchair, laughed loudly, and told me he had a plane to catch. Then he was gone! He just left me there! I suppose I should have been grateful that he went; he could have done much worse to me. But he hurt me so badly by leaving me there, lying on the ground with my body hot and alive from the orgasm he had forced me to have and then rejecting me and walking away as though he had lost all interest and was ready to move onto something more fun. I’m not saying that I would have preferred him to have used me. I had begged him not to do that. What I’m saying is… oh, I don’t know! I think I just needed him to say he was happy with me and proud of me for obeying him so well. Couldn’t he have at least given me that?

After it became obvious he wasn’t going to come back, I found a quiet corner and cried myself to sleep, trying to be thankful that no men wanted to use me but only desperately aware of an emptiness I couldn’t fill.

I woke up the next day feeling utterly miserable, but with a faint hope that maybe today would be a little better than yesterday.

It was worse. Much worse.

Mr. Kozlov.

Yes, my diary, you remember him, I am sure you do. His name alone makes me tremble in fear so you can imagine what I felt when I saw him in the gardens of the Retreat. I had no time to try and hide; I knew he had seen me and he must have decided it would be fun to play with me for a while. Fun for him, I’m sure, but it has been days of torture for me. I’m not even sure how much time I have spent with him now and I have no idea when it will end. I don’t know if he will find me again later today but even if he doesn’t I have a horrible feeling that at least one of the other men who have been joining in his ‘fun’ will.

Where do I even start? I doubt I will be able to tell you everything in one go; there is too much and even if I am allowed enough free time I don’t think I could handle it. So I will break it up into different parts: The first part I will tell you about now. The second part, when he tricked me into falling for him and acting as though I were his girlfriend, thinking he liked me and actually feeling as though I liked him too. Then the third part, which has been by far the worst so far, where he took me around the house and the garden, finding other men to join in and torment me, forcing me to beg them to do awful things to me. Why does he do that? It’s so frightening and awful having men do sexual or painful things to me but when Mr. Kozlov forces me to beg for them it makes it so, so much worse. It seems to be his special brand of cruelty and it cuts so deep.

Anyway, Mr. Kozlov took me up to the bedroom. He asked me if I remembered the rules regarding my attire and then, while waiting for me to answer, he began to explain how I was still owed my punishment from last time. I tried to say that it was so long ago and he had already punished me last time but he didn’t let me finish; he started to get angry and asked me again about my clothing. I was more scared of whatever punishment he may have planned than of being naked so I took my clothes off and stood in front of him naked and trembling. Thankfully this seemed to please him but then he wanted to know if I remembered why I should be dressed in such a revealing manner. I had no idea other than that I had made Mr. Negulesco angry once and he had told me to only wear panties and a bra but when I told Mr. Kozlov this he also seemed to get angry. He quickly reminded me – and this has become a phrase I will never, ever forget – that is is because the prisoners must always have their holes open and available to the men at all times.

Oh no! Oh no no no no no. I wrote that sentence out easily, on the first attempt. I know that writing is easier than speaking and I am hoping that this is why. But Mr. Kozlov has made me repeat that rule so many times in the last few days and although it was almost impossible for me to say it at first, I finally managed to speak even the word ‘holes’ without any problem. I am not an object! My body does not have ‘holes’. I tried to change the word to ‘entrance’ but he wouldn’t allow it.

Once I had been reminded of this rule, Mr. Kozlov reached out and began to touch my breasts, roughly squeezing them before sliding his hand slowly down my body, pausing for one horrible instant, and then touching me between my legs. I looked up into his eyes, scared he would hurt me and he just laughed as he pushed a finger deep inside me and continued talking.

“You didn’t have to take the bra off because it doesn’t cover any of your holes.” He mocked. “But I think you just enjoy showing me those lovely titties. You are so much less innocent than you were the last time. Why don’t you tell me what a slut you are now and how you enjoy teasing me with those tits?”

I was mortified and wanted so badly to put my bra back on but he wouldn’t let me. He waited for me to speak but there was no way I could say those things; they’re not true! I haven’t changed! Did he really think I had taken my bra off on purpose knowing that I didn’t have to? I couldn’t let him think that!

“No… I promise you I hate it! I don’t like being naked in front of men, I don’t! You told me to undress… I mean… you asked me if I remembered how to dress and I thought that meant… did you not want me to take my clothes off? I’m not… I’m not a… slut…I don’t like any of this!”

I couldn’t stop the tears as they welled up in my eyes and began to spill over and roll down my cheeks. I just needed him to believe me.

He nodded and seemed satisfied for now and thankfully didn’t push me to say the hateful lies out loud.

“Okay, let’s return to basics, since you seem to enjoy being undressed…” he paused as if enjoying the build up to his joke, “Oh, I’m sorry, I enjoy seeing you undressed. You will now stand for your inspection. You do remember the correct position don’t you? Hands behind your head, back arched to present those tits, feet spread wide apart for easy access to that lovely wet pussy, and then you stay very still as I explore that lovely body.”

I remembered the position oh too well but I think he knew that and just enjoyed watching my discomfort as he described it in detail to me once again. I begged him to not make me stand like that and he said okay but in that case he would take me up to the third floor of the house and we’d do something else instead. He knows I am terrified of that room and no doubt wasn’t surprised when I quickly assumed the correct position. He then moved around me, correcting and exaggerating the posture by kicking my feet further apart and pushing into my back while pulling my elbows backwards. He then stood behind me, pressing his body close while he leant down to whisper in my ear. I could feel his warm breath on my cheek and his interest in the small of my back.

“Much better. Tell me Clara, when was the last time you were fucked? You need to be fucked often. But more importantly, tell me…” and he paused as if to avoid any distraction as his right hand slid along my inner thigh, slowly stroking up my leg, “When was the last time you orgasmed?” As he said this he began to gently caress between my legs, making small back-and-forth movements with his fingers while his thumb played in tiny circles. It felt good. I didn’t want it to feel good.

“No! Please… please don’t do that to me again!” I broke position. I was terrified of the pain I knew he could inflict on me but I so hated the idea of him making me cum for him again.

He stopped touching and walked around to face me.

“Yes, I see that we have much work to do on your training,” he said as his eyes bore into me. Then suddenly he grabbed my wrist and pulled me across the floor to the other side of the room in front of a tall, frame-like structure with dangling chains. He picked up a pair of cuffs and handed them to me, ordering me to put them on. I took the cuffs and asked him what he was going to do to me. It’s awful knowing what horrors await, but it’s so much worse not knowing.

“Still delaying with such simple instructions. Well, I can assure you that the more you delay the worse it will be for you.”

I obeyed as quickly as my trembling hands would allow and fastened the cuffs around my wrists and ankles. As soon as I had done that, Mr. Kozlov attached the chains to the little rings in each cuff and pulled until my limbs were taut, my hands high above my head and my legs wide open.

I whimpered, feeling so vulnerable, and I again begged him, “Please… please just tell me what is going to happen… I’m so scared…”

“Why are you afraid? We are just going to have a little chat and catch up.” And his hands began to caress my breasts, gently massaging them, as he continued, “I’m sure you have much to tell me about all your adventures since we last met.” I felt his hands slide down past my waist then run along my inner thighs, stroking gently before one hand moved back up to touch my sex.

“I’m not afraid… I … ” Then I remembered not to lie. “I mean, yes, I am terrified it’s just… I don’t know what you’re going to do to me. Please, will you just tell me if you’re going to hurt me or… the other thing…” I desperately didn’t want to cum for him.

He obviously had no intension of telling me what he had in store. Perhaps he didn’t know and was making it up as he went along. Perhaps he had the whole thing planned from the beginning. I will never know, but I was beginning to realize that the more I panicked, the more I begged, and the more afraid I became, the more he seemed to enjoy himself.

Chuckling, he continued. “Well, perhaps some little presents may help you relax.” He reached into in his jacket and pulled out a set of rubber tipped nipple clamps and a large vibrator. Holding the clamps directly in front of my eyes he said, “Why don’t you ask me nicely to put these on you?”

I felt faint as panic and fear filled me and I begged, “Please… not again… I can’t.. you know I hate those… I am so scared of them… please please please… no… please….”

“Shhh, be strong. It is simple. ‘Please sir, please clamp my nipples. How I long for the pain. And please sir, pretty please, would you be so kind as to fuck me with that vibrator, fill this dirty fuck hole, I want it so badly’. See, something like that. Such a simple request. You really do need practice on your begging.”

I couldn’t do it! There was no way I could say all of those things and I desperately didn’t want the clamps on me. I implored him, “Please don’t do this to me! There are so many girls here who will beg you to use them. I… just… you can’t make me say that… please… I don’t want any of this…. oh please!” I began to sob uncontrollably. I was so scared and felt so powerless. I knew that, in the end, he would do whatever he wanted and that I couldn’t do or say a thing to change my fate. It was all so hopeless and terrifying.

“Clara, Clara, Clara,” His voice was soft and soothing now as he leaned in close to wipe away my tears. “I understand. But I’m afraid that I can’t have you be this disobedient.”

He walked away from me, taking the dreaded objects with him, and I breathed a little more easily. But when he returned he was holding a small box. I watched, whimpering in fear, as he slowly reached in and pulled out… Oh no! Glinting as it swayed in the light was a long, delicate chain with one metal clamp at each end and a smaller one in the middle. Each clamp had many tiny, cruel, sharp metal teeth.

“It’s for your own good. You still haven’t learned your place.” And without waiting for me to beg or scream he quickly attached one of the torturous clamps to each of my nipples, leaving the third clamp hanging low in front of my body.

The pain was too awful to describe. I started screaming and shaking but that only made it worse.

Mr. Kozlov watched me, waiting, apparently enjoying my distress and not in any rush to end it.

Finally, he spoke. “Now, I will give you one last chance to redeem yourself. I can either insert that nice vibrator into that dripping fuckhole or… I can use this.” I looked in absolute horror as he reached back into the box and took out what looked like a vibrator. Only it wasn’t like any other vibrator I have ever seen. It was huge and its size alone would have been almost impossible for my body to accommodate but all along the shaft, set at regular intervals, were long, hard spikes. “I’ll let you decide which one you want. Make sure you impress me, otherwise I will chose for you.”

He wouldn’t do that! Would he? I’d be damaged. He’d rip my insides to shreds and I’d bleed to death. Or even if I didn’t die I’d never heal properly. Surely Mr. Negulesco wouldn’t allow any man to do permanent damage. But, I realized that Mr. Negulesco wasn’t in the room now and even if the Retreat’s rules don’t allow for the girls to be damaged I was sure that Mr. Kozlov would be able to pay his way out of any ‘accident’. And I was sure that Mr. Kozlov wasn’t bluffing; that he would use that instrument of torture on me and enjoy every minute of my agony as he did. At that moment I realized he would always find a way to make me more terrified and more humiliated than ever before.

“Please Sir, I would really, really like the other vibrator… I beg you to… please… put the other vibrator, the smooth one, into my… into my… my pussy… It’s wet and wants it… badly… I really want you to do that… please, please, Sir.

I burst out crying, unable to go on but now desperately searching his face for any sign that my begging had been pleasing enough to him.

“Good Girl. A very wise choice. See I knew you could do it. All you needed was the proper motivation.”

I almost fainted with relief as I watched him put the spiked dildo away and take out another, smaller and very smooth vibrator. He had made me beg for this but what was worse was that now, in contrast to the threat of the spiked phallus and along with the searing pain from the clamps on my nipples, I actually did want the smooth vibrator inside me. I longed for the release of orgasm. I groaned, needing to feel pleasure so badly and realizing that Mr. Kozlov was manipulating my body and my mind. I knew that whatever I did I would always end up doing, saying and even feeling exactly what he chose.

And he was only just getting started.

I felt the tip of the vibrator tease my lower lips, stroking softly and only just making contact with the sensitive skin.

“Why don’t you assist me and push that pussy out for your lover?”

I wanted to feel the vibrator inside me but I couldn’t bare the idea of showing him that I wanted it. But he knew he had made me want it and it wouldn’t take much now to make me admit that.

“My, my, such a simple task and yet you still manage to fail.” His fingers were stroking me and then I felt the vibrator pulse gently. He touched it to my clitoris then pulled it away and I cried out in surprise and… in pleasure. Yes, it felt good and he must have known that because he smiled and continued to tease me until I finally needed the thing inside me so badly I began to thrust my hips forward in a desperate attempt to reach it.

He let me beg with my body for a while, chuckling as he watched me become more and more distraut and try harder and harder to get the phallus inside me. Finally he pushed it into me, just a little, and it felt so good. I shuddered and closed my eyes, letting my head fall back slightly. Finally the pain in my nipples and torment in my mind had been replaced by a buzzing, pulsing, happy feeling.

I could hear the satisfaction in his voice as he spoke. “Doesn’t it just make the reward so much more pleasurable the harder you have to work for it? Your pussy seems to think so anyway; it’s getting very wet. Now, don’t let it fall out! And I need you to keep your eyes open. I want you to be able to see all the wonderful things I have planned for that very lovely, and sexily displayed body.”

He moved the vibrator in and out of me a few times, slowly, rhythmically, and I could feel my body responding and providing more than enough lubrication to help it slide. I moaned and felt the heat rising to my cheeks and I didn’t want to open my eyes. I wanted to continue being unaware of the pain from the nipple clamps, oblivious to the fear in my mind, and only conscious of the pleasure that was building in between my legs.

“I said, open your eyes.”

The steel in his voice was enough to make my eyes fly open and look at him, terrified he’d punish me for being too slow to obey.

Luckily, he was content with staring into my frightened gaze while he explained why it was important that I hold the toy inside me unaided.”Holding it there will strengthen your muscles. How are you supposed to squeeze and milk the Gentlemen’s cocks while they fuck you ruthlessly, if you don’t have toned muscles? Aren’t you grateful for the chance I am giving you to exercise them?”

I nodded, not really sure if I was agreeing to being grateful or to trying my best at holding it inside me but he accepted it.

“Good. Now that I have gone through all this effort to make you comfortable, we can finally catch up. Why don’t you share with me the most traumatic thing that happened to you since we last met. I am sure something must have occurred to cause you to be less innocent and hopeful.”

My eyes, still fixed on his, grew wider still at his words. He was adding layer upon layer of torment and I didn’t know how heavy it would get before it broke me.

“Please don’t say that! I haven’t changed, really I haven’t.” My eyes burned with tears. Had I lost hope? Did I really seem less innocent than before? “I don’t know what I can say to you to prove that. Why do you want me to tell you what the other men did to me? Why does that matter to you?”

It didn’t make sense to me but of course he had his reasons.

“Why? Oh Clara, I’m hurt.” His expression showed heartbreak that was so fake it was obvious he wasn’t even trying to pretend to be sincere. He was making fun of me. “Aren’t we close? I am sure something must have traumatized you and talking about it is one way to cope. Besides, I am curious as to what my fellow Gentlemen have done to you, so I know how high the bar is set in order to provide future experiences for you.”

He was going to have me tell him what I hated most so he could enjoy my pain as I relived the experiences and then do even worse things to me himself? Why did he think I would tell him? Did he think I would knowingly help him torture me?

Yes. He knew I would.

“Clara…” he said, his hand now on the chain hanging from the nipple clamps, “you disappoint me.” He yanked down on the chain so hard and abruptly it would have ripped the clamps off had their teeth not been firmly biting into my nipples. I screamed and could only barely hear him as he continued. “Now, think about the most traumatic event you have experienced since we last met and describe it to me in vivid detail as though it were happening right now.”

I managed to gain control of myself. The pain died down just a little and I tried to concentrate on the vibrator instead.

“I was taken… I mean… you know… kind of kidnapped. A man – a nice man – had taken me from here to live at his house for a while but, while I was there, another man – this one was not nice – kidnapped me. And… he did awful things to me.”

Mr. Kozlov nodded, in mock understanding and sympathy. “Repressing memories is a bad thing Clara. I am sure if you talk about it, things will be better.”

He took a hold of the vibrator and began to slide it back and forth slowly. It was still pulsing softly and he moved it the full length of its shaft in and out, in and out, while at the same time using his thumb to make those little circular movements that some men can do and that feel so, so good. Every move, every touch seemed calculated to make my body fully aware of the sensations. I had just begun to start to feel a little tiny bit good when he said, “Of course, if you don’t want to share, I suppose I can work on hurting you instead.”

He paused to enjoy watching the terrified look on my face before continuing, “I am sure you will come to the right decision.”

“No! It’s okay, please, please don’t hurt me! I will tell you what they did to me! There were two men and they hit me and… there was a cage and whips and a video and knives and I had to do things and….” I started babbling, trying desperately to think of something to tell him about my time away but I was panicking and couldn’t think straight.

“Shhhh… It’s all right.”

He let go of the toy, leaving it inside me, and with one hand he gently caressed my cheek.

“Take a deep breath. We have lots of time. Why don’t you share what the video was for? And what things did you ‘have’ to do? Get it all off your chest.” He moved his hand then to my breasts and began to caress them gently, almost lovingly.

Sobbing, I calmed down enough to think of one particular event. I took a deep breath and began. “One time, the man told me that we were going to have sex and he would video it. But he said that I had to pretend to like what he was doing to me and make it look like I really, really wanted him and that I was really excited. He said that if I faked it well enough he would reward me and wouldn’t hit or whip me for a whole day. I did well. I even convinced myself. I got carried away and… I came a few times and… then the man jumped up and started laughing at me saying he would enjoy knowing that Taun was going to see the video very soon. He also told me to stand up and put my hands out and to not move until told to do so. Then he whipped me until I passed out. Then he brought me around and whipped me again for moving without being told to.”

I burst out crying. The memory was so painful and I had managed to block it out until now.

Mr. Kozlov wiped my tears away and spoke softly, “There there. Let it out. That does sound like a traumatic experience. But isn’t it better to share?”

I did feel a little better. Taun had been helping me recover but he hadn’t let me tell him about anything that had happened. Was it better to talk about it? Did I need that in order to get better? I shook my head to clear it. No! Mr. Kozlov wasn’t my friend and he wasn’t being nice to me. He wasn’t doing this to help me; he was simply enjoying himself at my expense.

“Clara, what did you mean when you said you ‘got carried away’ and ‘came a few times’. Did you you enjoy it?”

I thought hard before answering, making sure I was telling him the complete truth. The trouble was I wan’t even sure of what the truth was.

“I… don’t know. I didn’t want to do any of what they did to me there. I didn’t enjoy it! I don’t know why I… you know… had an orgasm… or some orgasms… I couldn’t help it! I didn’t enjoy it but…”

“Well I suppose I should be grateful, since they appear to have helped with your training. Before this, you would always deny your body and your enjoyment of orgasms. You even had trouble masturbating for us and failed miserably when ordered to cum. But look at you now, you have at least mastered the ability to appear aroused and wanting, and you actually managed to eek out several orgasms for that experience. You are so much further than I thought. After all, you still owe me those ten orgasms for your lies and I intend to collect.”

“No… you don’t understand! I didn’t enjoy my time with those men! I haven’t changed, I haven’t! I am still the way I was when I saw you before I was taken. Please don’t say I have changed. I am not less innocent than before. Those men didn’t change me!”

“Stop trying to fool yourself.” His expression was hard; his eyes ice. “I suppose we have to go further than talking and need actual therapy.”

And suddenly he unclamped my nipples and then unbuckled the cuffs. I fell to the floor in a pool of pain as the blood rushed back.

He shoved me with his foot. “Get on the bed and seduce me like you did those Gentlemen. I don’t care what you do but make it real for me. The Retreat has hidden cameras all over the estate so I am sure we will have several good sources for our custom film and I’ll make sure this ‘Taun’ character gets a copy. Of course if you don’t then I’ll just have to punish you. And I think that I can provide many more terrifying punishments to that lovely body, should you wish that instead.”

I managed somehow to get myself across the short distance to the bed. Collapsing onto it I said weakly, “You want me to pretend that I want you?”

He nodded, “Yes, I do. And, if you like, why don’t you think of ‘Taun’ all the time you are getting fucked by me?”

I stared in disbelief. I was trying so hard not to feel the pain in my heart knowing of everything I had lost by leaving Taun’s house. The last thing I wanted to do was think of Taun while this man was raping me.

“I can’t think of Taun while I’m with you!”

He laughed and pretended to misunderstand me. “Yes, I know I’m just that irresistible.”

A thought seemed to cross his mind then. He pointed to the screen in the room, behind which there is a small bath tub, vanity and chest.

“Before you show me exactly how much you care, I think you should prepare yourself properly. After all you do have a ‘hot date’ with your ‘Beloved’. So, take a bath, make yourself smell nice, and put on some makeup, sexy underwear and clothes.”

He stood next to the bed waiting for me to move. I had no idea where I would get the strength from to do as he was asking but I told myself that while I was getting dressed he wasn’t going to be hurting me and so I would at least get a few minutes relief from his unique brand of torture.

As I walked slowly, shakily, over to the screen he called out, “But Clara, don’t keep your lover waiting too long. He might not appreciate that. Oh, and, while you are making yourself all pretty, why don’t you do your hair too? I prefer brunettes. Don’t disappoint me.”

As I ran the bath I tried to stay calm but dread filled me faster than the water in the tub. He wanted me to dye my hair? I like the color of my hair and didn’t want to change it but I wouldn’t risk disappointing him. Was there even any hair dye available? If not would a wig be okay? I decided to just take the bath first then worry about getting ready afterwards. I poured some wonderful smelling lotions into the bathtub and eased my poor, aching body slowly into the warm and soothing water. I sighed. Oh, but it felt good! Just a few, short moments of luxury before the next part of my nightmare began…


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