Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 9

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 9 by Gloryboy based on the original story by Thorne

Dr. Wretched Richards felt more wretched than ever.  Not only had he been reduced to a hairless, opinionless, silent, immobilized object and become more horny and frustrated than any man had ever been, but Tabitha was well on her way to becoming one of the most famous psychological practitioners in history because of him. 

“That’s right, my precious son,” Ruth taunted, “Tabitha will be remembered in the same breath with Freud and Jung.  But don’t worry, my sweet richiepoo.  You’ll be remembered too, in the same breath with Sybil and other patients through whom psychologists and psychiatrists made their great discoveries.” 

He was beyond furious.  Tabitha had taken everything from him, including his dignity, his identity, his very personality and his mother had helped her every step of the way.  Ruth just smiled and said, “Well, enough of these deliciously cheerful thoughts.  I knew this was going to happen.  Here I’m supposed to be doing my aerobics and, instead, I’m talking away to you.  It’s all your fault.  I should have known you’d draw me into a long conversation with those articulate sounds of yours.”

“Gffff!  Mmph!  Gack!  Garg!” he moaned furiously. 

She was totally mocking him and his condition.  She smiled in satisfaction and pushed a button. 

“Sorry, honey,” she smirked.  “But I just have to get my exercises done.  I just hit the ‘mute’ button so mumble all you want.  I won’t hear any of it.  But you’ll be able to hear me.”

He could do nothing but watch helplessly as Ruth did her aerobics.  Finally, she smiled and said, “Shower time.”

She was gone for only a few minutes.  When she returned, she was wet and dried off in front of him.  She sensuously combed her wet, long, blond hair.  She looked at her hot, sweaty, miserable and desperately horny son and smiled. 

“I know this is pretty mild compared to what Tabitha and some of the others, even Rachel, do to you.  But, after all, I’m your mother.  I can’t be as blatantly sexual as they have the liberty of being.”

Again, she was totally mocking him.  He hated her, his own mother.  He hated them all.  He knew his opinion was meaningless though.  He was a silent object. 

“Oh, before I leave, I need to give you something you deserve.”

She picked up a paddle that was on a table along with a container of salt and a bowl of water.

“The paddle, you’ll notice, has little tacks in it,” she delighted in showing him. 

She hauled off and smacked his bare, smooth ass with the paddle.  A muffled wale came from his tubed mouth.  She went from cheek to cheek, tanning every inch of his ass as he cried, blubbered and begged.  Finally, she set the paddle down and picked up the salt.  She put generous amounts on her hands and started rubbing them into his tortured ass.  His cheeks convulsed with a life of their own.  He writhed and whimpered, his ass spasmed.  She walked in front of him.

“You see,” she explained, “now I dip the paddle into the water, getting the tacks all wet.  Then I put the salt on the tacks and it adheres because they are wet.  At least some of the salt will be driven in when I spank your sorry butt.  I should have done this long ago but at least no one else can deny that your Mom can still give you the ultimate spanking.”

He could not help but continue crying and begging as he suffered the burning, biting pain of a thousand fiery pinpricks in his ass.  And, of course, the inescapable conditioning was kicking in.

“Pain = desire = frustration.  Mom= = pain= desire= frustration = no- I’m a man- a need to cum, need to cum, I’m do- do- wretch.  Mom= pain= = desire= frustration = Mom =”

“No need to thank me,” she smiled and petted his head.  “Your reaction is all the thanks I need.”

He knew it would never end but at least it could not get any-  he caught himself.  It always did and always would get worse. 

Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 8

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 8 by Gloryboy based on the original story by Thorne

Ruth Richards smiled at her son.  She had not seen him for a week.  He was a quivering mass from what Rachel  had been doing to him during that week. 

“So, how have you been, Wretched?  Or am I answering my own question?” she smiled.

He glared, unable to speak.

“Aw, are you still mad at me?”

She grinned. 

“Okay, I know what I've done makes you mad but you deserved it.  I see Rachel has really been spanking your ass.  It’s hard for me to tell how well your ass is healing what with Rachel giving you those well-deserved spankings every day.   You have to remember, you exist to please us now.  The arrogant waste of space you once were is gone.”

He writhed what little he could and tried to speak though pathetic choking sounds were all he could make.  He simply could not believe she would be in on this and do this to him.

“I know Rachel constantly tells you that you are a useless non-entity,” Ruth said.  “But you have to remember she’s just giving you rightful payback for the things you did to her when you were younger.  Its about revenge for her.”

“Gack, gurgle, ggggrrrpphh” he tried to speak but, with two tubes and a gag, that was impossible.  Even those noises were barely audible and Ruth could cut them off any time she pleased by muting the outgoing sound from the plexiglass cage.  But he was furious.  The things he had done to her were nothing, less than nothing, compared to what she and the others were doing to him.  There simply was no comparison.  But he had no voice in the matter, literally.  So Ruth continued. 

“The truth is that you were a useless non-entity before we immobilized you.  Now you are an object and a toy, true, but not useless.  Finally, you’ve found your place.  Well, okay, we’ve found it for you and put you in your place.”

The former Dr. Richard Richards was red with anger, humiliation and frustration. 

“If you could talk, I’m sure you’d interrupt and contradict me, try to remind me that you are a real person with feelings.  Well, I know that, richiepoo.  Were I to let you talk, I might even feel it.  That’s why you are going to stay gagged and silent, my objectified boy.  You are an object, a toy and I don’t care to be reminded otherwise because I know the useless creature you’d turn back into before long if ever freed.”

 Even at fifty, she was firm and tanned, toned and with long, shapely legs, wide hips and full large but not too large breasts.  Her hair was blond unlike her daughter’s black hair.  It fell to her shoulders.  Yes she was fifty but was like a centerfold or a model at fifty.  Had she not been brilliant and become a judge, she could easily have had a modeling career.  He squirmed in frustration as his cock hardened in the pouch.  Hee writhed and broke into a sweat.  She walked over and looked at his quivering pouch. 

“Aw, is the sight of your gorgeous Mom getting you all worked up?  This must be so embarrassing and so frustrating.” 

Again, he struggled frantically.  To an outside observer, he was not doing anything but making intense faces and tensing his muscles.  He could barely move the slightest fraction of an inch.  But he was straining and fighting all he could.  He could not believe she was doing this to him nor could he believe how he was responding.  He had gone years without any form of sexual relief and his mother, even at fifty, had a great body.  But were it not for the years of forced denial, he told himself he would never have noticed. 

“Hmm, maybe I should call you Oedipus,” she teased.  “Poor boy, do you want to have sex with me?”

His cock cramped in agony, rock hard but scrunched tight into the pouch.  His balls burned like white hot fire. 

“Oh, don’t feel ashamed.  Subconsciously, many men feel that way and just can’t admit it to themselves.  But you can’t pretend, can you, poor richiepoo?  See?  You’re a better ‘man’ already.  You have to face truths other men can hide from and pretend are not real.”

“You are such a fun and satisfying toy.  But doesn’t it thrill you to know that you are also helping Tabitha in her psychological research?  Why, she may get the Nobel Prize and be credited as a psychologist as groundbreaking as Freud or Maslow thanks largely to your unwilling help.” 

She leaned close and kissed his nose. 

“Doesn’t that make you feel good?”

Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 7

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 7 by Gloryboy based on the original story by Thorne

The humiliations and frustrations were unbelievable and, no matter what he endured, there was always more.  Rachel walked into the room and smiled.

“Morning, big brother.  How's it hanging?  Oh, it's not.  It's pouched and trying trying to get hard.”

He silently begged for a mercy he would never receive.  Hell hath no fury like a sister mistreated so all the silent, immobilized male could do was endure.  Rachel stepped over and smiled.

She leaned naked against her brother’s plexiglass cage.  Her breasts pressed against the cage and she slid down until a nipple slipped into the opening right in front of his mouth, a tantalizing inch from him.  Were it not for the feeding tube and the piss tube in his mouth and the tight collar holding his head up, he could have leaned forward and suckled it. 

“Mmmm, poor richiepoo,” she mocked.  So horny, so frustrated.  Why, I’ll bet, my dear, big brother, that you are hornier than any male has ever been.”

His tight, tight pouch was not just quivering, it was convulsing.  His entire body was jolting as searing agony shot through his aching, agonized testicles. 

“Why, my brainless brother, I’ll bet that you have a dry mouth, a horrible headache, a face that is burning hot, your kidneys and lower back hurt, you need to take a shit and you feel giddy and shaky and sick and on fire.”

She switched so the other nipple was in front of him and started tracing light circles around it with her fingers.  He was moaning and trying to hump in his pouch, tears of agony and frustration running down his face. 

“You feel like your cock will break trying to harden in that pouch, don’t you my poor wretched brother?  Your balls keep tightening again and again and again and again and it feels for sure like you’re going to cum.  But then it just starts slipping away.  You hump like mad trying to finish the task, to cum- yes, just as you are doing right now.  They are tightening right now, aren’t they poor baby?”

She smiled and waited.

“Its slipping away, isn’t it poor wretch?  No matter how hard you try, it just ebbs away.  Your balls are just as full and bloated as ever.  Every time, it really feels like you are going to cum.  But you can’t.  Oh poor, poor baby.  You just can’t.  Your balls just stay swollen and in agony.  The pain lances through your balls, leaving you aching and tender and sore, leaves you absolutely mindless, desperate and despairing with the need to cum.  But you just can’t get there from here.  You can’t stand it.  Yet it happens over and over again.”

The former Dr. Richard Richards was going crazy, writhing as best he could and sweating profusely.  His eyes bulged with rage and overwhelming desires.  Rachel just chuckled. 

“Oh, my sweet, big brother, I will NEVER get bored with this.  I love that I am partly responsible for your condition and that I’m making your pathetic existence twice as bad as it would be anyway.” 

Tears of frustration, pain and betrayal ran down his face, over his doubly tubed, gagged mouth.  He knew he had been arrogant and had pushed her around when they were younger, but what she was doing to him was infinitely beyond just getting even, far more than just equal payback. 

“That’s it, richiepoo, cry for me.  Show me how much its getting to you.”

She turned and wiggled her ass invitingly in front of his face.  He could not help himself.  He blubbered and cried.  It was muffled, of course. 

“Poor richiepoo, so sad.  I really should do something that makes you feel good- besides rubbing my ass in your face, I mean.  And my ass is so nice, isn’t it baby?  So hot?” 

He writhed and moaned as the pouch quivered.

“What can I do for you?  Oh, yes.  Silly me.  I didn’t fully dress you today.”

She opened the lid of the box and picked up the brass ring with which she now usually adorned him. 

“Did you think it was nice of me to take this off of you last night?  Silly sibling, I just wanted you to have some feeling in your nose so it could hurt all over again.”

He tried to avoid it but he was absolutely immobilized.  There was nothing he could do.  Rachel placed the brass ring so it was on either side of the middle of his nostrils.  Then she grinned wickedly and started pressing the sharp ends of the ring together with the middle of his nostrils caught between them.  He writhed and screamed and tried uselessly to flinch away but there was no way to escape.  Rachel giggled in enjoyment as he gave out bloodcurdling screams of pain.  She grinned maliciously as she took a pair of pliers and squeezed.  There were crunching sounds as the ring pierced through him and trickles of blood ran.  His eyes grew wide with pain.  Rachel heard the two ends snap together in unison with a final, agonized moan from him followed by little, regular whimpers as the pain still wracked at him. 

Rachel stuck her little finger into the ring and, with a malicious chuckle, gave a good yank and jiggled it around as he jerked and whimpered in more pain.  Then she puckered her lips and made a kissing motion in mock sympathy while stroking him mockingly under the chin.  Then she got some thin yarn and tied it through the ring.  She tied the other end to a weight and hung the weight over a bar across the top of the cage.  He was raising his nose as high as he could to avoid the pain.  Of course, it did not matter.  The weight exerted just as much pull no matter how high he rose.  He could not do anything to avoid the pain. 

“You always did have your nose in the air, richiepoo,” she taunted.  “At least now you have a good reason.” 

Rachel added another weight, doubling the pull on his nose.  Then she lifted the weights and, smiling wickedly, let them fall so they jerked to a stop.  He screamed in agony.  She just grinned and gave some more tugs on the rope, causing his eyes to brim with tears of pain. 

“No,” she said again, “I will NEVER get bored with this.  Suffer, my brainless brother.  Suffer, you arrogant piece of shit.  You will never be free.”

She spat the words out. 

“You are mine.  And, yes, Mom’s and Tabitha’s and Judy’s.  But never will you be your own again.  You are and will be a helpless, immobilized, emasculated, horny, non-entity for life.”

She picked up the paddle.

“And speaking of doing whatever I please to you, whenever I please, I think I feel its time for another well deserved paddling of your sorry, bare, smooth ass, precious brother.  So, bottoms up, my poor beaten brother.”

She started gleefully spanking his helpless ass and she was paddling with everything she had. 

“I- I’m Do- Do- Rich- Rich- richiepoo- need to piss, need to cum, sexy sister, hate Rachel, hot for Rachel.  Not brainless, not brainless brother, have IQ of- of- need to cum, need to cum, need to…”

Rachel, done paddling him, walked to the front and sat on a high stool where the stool top was even with his face.  She got as close as possible, leaned back and started caressing her pussy. 

“See something you want, richiepoo?  What a pervert.  Your own sister.”

She laughed sadistically.

“Hate Rachel, want to eat Rachel’s pussy.  No, sister.  Hate sis- no eat sis’s pussy.  No hate her.  No.  Rachel equals hurt.  Rachel equals pain.  Rachel equals frustration.  Rachel = pain= desire = frustration = Rachel = pain = desire= frustration= Rachel = …”

Enjoying her own orgasm, Rachel had thoughts of her own. 

“This is heaven.  This is ecstasy.  I won't go so far as to let him touch me but I'll get oh so close.  It will be even more humiliation and frustration for him.”

“Rachel = pain= frustration = Rachel=” his mind continued in the loop.

“At last, you’re a good brother to have,” she mocked.

Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 6

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 6 by Gloryboy based on the original story by Thorne

The plexiglass box was cramped.  It set in the middle of the floor, which allowed people to walk around it and view it from all sides.  Inside the box, Wretch, formerly Dr. Richard Richards, knelt.  His ankles were chained together and to a ring in the floor of the box.  His knees were tied wide apart.  He wore a device similar to a jockstrap.  But it was a tight, tight pouch squeezing his balls and cock.  A catheter was inserted into his pisstube.  His arms were held behind him in a leather sheathe that pulled his elbows close together.  He was gagged with a strap that held his mouth wide open.  A feeding tube was inserted down his throat.  He no longer wore a mask as they no longer needed to keep his identity a secret.  A stiff collar adorned his neck so he could look up and foreword but not down.  And there he knelt, second after minute after hour after day after week after month after year.  He could not believe what they had done to him.  All he could think about was needing to piss, a common feeling with catheters, the gagging reflex from the throat tube, the itching from the electrolysis that had permanently removed his body hair, the frustration of not being able to speak and tell anyone what was going on or even just scream in rage and frustration, the painful immobility, but most of all, the agonizing, aching, endless, gut wrenching sexual desires and unbelievably painful blue balls. 

Rachel Richards walked into the room. 

“Good morning, good morning and what a wonderful morning it is,” she mocked.  “The sun is shining, the birds are singing.  Oh, but that’s right.  You can’t hear any of that except when I hit the ‘on’ button on the intercom of your cage and you can’t see outside this room and only straight ahead at that.” 

Rachel brought her face close to the glass and mimicked a kiss an inch from his lips. 

“Mmmm, too bad, so sad,” she grinned. 

He writhed in silent rage and frustration. 

“Now, now,” she teased.  “I didn’t come here again just to tease you.  Mostly but not just that.  I have a present for you.” 

She held up a bulging red bottle. 

“Do you know what this is?” she wickedly grinned. 

Of course, he could not answer.  Even nodding his head was impossible.  She was giddy with her absolute power over him. 

“Tell you what,” she said.  “I’ll give you a clue.”

She disconnected his feeding tube from its normal feed and screwed it into the bottle.  He winced at the sharp, bitter taste as hot soapy water filled his mouth. 

“Yes,” she said.  “I’m washing your mouth out with soap.  And even though that’s fitting, its not all I’m going to fill with hot, soapy water, richiepoo.  I mean, poor wretchy.”

“Mmph.  Gack.  Gurgle.  Glub,” he moaned as she walked around behind him. 

He felt her finger inserting up his rectum with Vaseline. 

“You should be grateful I’m even lubing you up,” she laughed. 

Then he felt the nozzle being inserted deeply into his ass.  He writhed as best he could as he felt her lift the bottle high and felt the hot soap sloshing in his guts.  Then he felt his ass being plugged. 

“Now you just hold that nice enema for a few hours, richie.  Maybe even until tomorrow morning.”

His eyes were wide with pain and humiliation. 

“Oh, and wretchie, here’s a little hypnotic command based on all that nice conditioning Tabitha put into you- think of that hot soapy enema sloshing in your guts as the equivalent of a woman on her period and imagine what she goes through and also think of it as the equivalent of fucking your own ass with your thumbs.  Mmmm, I do believe that makes you all horny, hornier than ever.  Doesn’t it, poor, sweet brother?”

That made the conditioning kick in.  Now the cramping agony of the enema translated to sexual arousal and he was whimpering in frustration.  Having gone years with no sexual relief, he would have been anyway but now, not even the pain of the cramping, painful enema could distract him from his need to cum.  It only made his frustrations worse.  Rachel gave his tight, tight pouch a good squeeze and smiled, enjoying every moment of his torment.  Then, she turned and walked out as he could only stare at her shapely ass. 

Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 5

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 5 by Throne.  (This part was written by Throne in an ongoing group participation story we had going.  I loved it so much I had to include it in my adaptation of his original story). 

Rachel grinned at her helpless brother's frustration and pain. She added a few more whacks on his bright crimson backside. Tabitha had pointed out that if she swatted him before, during and after the induced outburst of lust, he would come to associate such pain with his attempts at pleasure. In other words, he would soon get turned on by having his ass beaten. And Rachel would be happy to be the one to add that addiction to his growing list.

She set aside her instrument of punishment and leaned close to him once more. "Dear, sweet brother," she said mockingly. "I'm going to be sure to visit you every chance I get. Imagine all the fun we'll have. And look, I brought you a gift."

It was a heavy brass nosering that she opened and then fitted into his nostrils. Rachel snapped it shut with harsh force so that the points dug into his sensitive tissues. Tears welled in Wretch's eyes. His sister giggled. Then she looped a wire through the ring and ran it through one of the small ventilation holes in the top of the box. When she tied it off he was forced to keep his head up at an uncomfortable angle, and even that didn't relieve all the pressure on his nose.

With him in that position it was simple for her to reach in through the access holes and tease his already hard nipples. Wretch groaned with pleasure and his male parts felt more crushed than ever. The tears overflowed his eyes and ran down his smooth beardless cheeks. She laughed out loud…

At last it was over. Wretched was nearly crosseyed from overarousal. He was sobbing and panting with unfulfilled need. His sitter was ablaze. His sexy sister stood close to him, opening another button not just to cool down after all that pleasant work, but to make sure he got an eyeful of even more of her generous cleavage. She intended to get him incestuously hooked on her image, a condition she was sure would shame him even as it added to his discomfort…

With that she tickled him under his forcibly raised chin. It made him flinch, which triggered a jolt of pain where the ring cut into his nostrils. Wretch lost control and wept uncontrollably.

As his sister Rachel strolled happily away she sighed and said to herself, "I'm going to be hearing a LOT of that sound from now on. And I'll NEVER get tired of it…"

Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 4

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 4 by Gloryboy based on the original story by Thorne

Usually, Dr. Tabitha Katz personally walked every new woman and girl into her apartment to see the shaved, pierced, immobilized, cathetered, silenced, chastitybelted non-entity that had once been Dr. Richard Richards.  This time, she allowed the girl to walk in by herself.  Another of Tabitha’s rules was that any girl or woman who saw him had to be lesbian or at least bisexual.  The third rule was that they never knew who he had really been and must believe this was legitimate medical treatment.  So she was breaking her own rules on three levels, allowing a heterosexual female who knew who he really was to be in the room with him by herself.  But this was an exceptional situation and one long-awaited.

The immobilized male saw a woman walk into the dim lighting of the room.  It was clearly not Tabitha, Judy, Virginia or any of the select few others that had watched him through the years.  She was short and shapely, with short, dark hair, tight jeans and a shirt that revealed her cleavage.  There was something tantalizingly familiar about her as she circled his plexiglass cage like a prowling tigress. 

“Unbelievable,” she laughed. 

He had heard words like that over the years when a woman first saw him.  But there was something so familiar about both her voice and her body language.  Running a hand over the plexiglass, she stepped in front of him and leaned close.  She looked so familiar but, because it had been four years and because she had changed a lot in those years, it took a moment for recognition to set in.  As soon as it did, he was shocked and locked into a psychological quandary.  He was hopelessly aroused, as he was always hopelessly aroused, yet feeling he should not be.

She looked at him through the small opening in the glass. 

“Hello, richie,” she mocked.  “I must admit I never thought I’d have you in this position.”

She reached her small hand into the lower opening and cupped the tight, tight pouch that squeezed and mashed his balls and his cathetered cock. 

“You always thought you were so high and mighty.  I remember how, even as a child, you talked down to me, when you lowered yourself to talk to me at all, that is.”

She gave his balls a good squeeze in their tight, tight pouch.  He writhed in pain. 

“Well, now you can’t talk at all, can you, poor richie?  Even if you want to, you can’t say a word.  How does it feel to be a helpless, immobilized nothing?  Oh that’s right.  Poor richie can’t talk back.  So delightful.”

She watched his pouch quiver in unbelievable pain and frustration.

“Four years ago, when you disappeared, I was only fourteen.  But I was so glad you were gone, you and your smug, superior, sexist attitudes than I recognized and despised even then.  Mom didn’t take it hard at all for reasons I’ll explain.  Dad grieved.  But he adjusted.  Do you know why he adjusted?  Do you know what he said to me?  He said I was so loving.  He said that, if he had to lose one of us, he was glad it wasn’t me.  He said that he knew, deep down, how miserable you had made my growing up and he was glad it was over and could I forgive him.  Well, of course I forgave him.  It wasn’t his fault.  It was yours.  He loved me.  He cared about me.  Of course I love him too.  And I’ve grown up, haven’t I richie?”

She pulled her arms behind her, stretching and emphasizing her breasts.

He was writhing in anger and frustration.  He could not believe that what she said about his father was true but he detected no deceptions or lies in her eyes as she had spoken.  He was furious.  His own sister, with the power to free him, was instead enjoying his situation. 

“Poor richie, how does it feel to know you’re going to be humbled beneath your own sister’s ass?  You pathetic piece of shit, should I let you in on an amazing secret?  Do you know why Tabitha so easily got away with this?  Do you know why the police never investigated more completely or turned the investigation in Tabitha’s direction or wondered about the mysterious non-entity that appeared right after you disappeared?  I only recently found out myself.  It is because someone else was in on this from the start.  When she thought the police might figure it out, Tabitha went to her secret co-conspirator, Dr. Ruth Richards, and asked her to help obscure the trail.  Do you know why Mom did this?  She said, ‘He needs to be taught a lesson.  I don’t know where he went wrong but he’s become so totally sexist he actually deserves the fate you’ve suggested.  All I ask is that you don’t kill him or mutilate him in any true sense.  Heaven help me but he’s useless for anything except what you’re doing to him and it is poetic justice.’  Then she convinced the police that Tabitha had nothing to do with it.”

The former Richard Richards was going crazy with rage and shock.  His sister, Rachel Richards, was telling the truth.  He could tell.  The women of his own family had now twice had the chance to free him and had not.  In fact, one of them had been the cause of it, at least partly.  Rachel raised the top of the glass and put her foot right on his forehead. 

“You are going to pay for every mean thing you ever did to me, big brother.  I am going to treat you like the shaved, hairless, silent, immobilized, pathetic joke you are.”

Rachel leaned close, jiggling her cleavage in front of his eyes.  He moaned at the agony in his tight, tight pouch. 

“Poor, pathetic creature,” she giggled.  “After years of this, even your own sister’s boobs look good, don’t they?  Mmmm, yes, that quivering in your little pouch says they do.  Your little balls and little peepee must be soooo needy.”

Again, he writhed in rage and frustration.  His cock and balls had once been quite big before they had been squeezed and constricted every second for four years.  She picked up a wooden paddle with small barbs in it. 

She pushed a button and the cage slowly turned until his back was to her, with an opening at his ass.

“This is something you’ve had coming for a long time and, with the opening in the back with those pale cheeks sticking out so invitingly, I’m going to give you the good, hard spanking you’ve always deserved.”

The creature that was once Rick Richards was in agony and humiliation as Rachel his sister spanked his ass until it was red, rosy and burning. 

“This is the way we spank our boys, spank our boys, spank our boys, this is the way we spank our brothers, so early in the morning.  Bottoms up, big brother.”

She giggled as she tanned his ass and she was not holding back at all.  He was crying from the pain.  Then she walked around in front of him.

“So how does that make you feel, richie-boy?”

The desire was slamming through him like a sledgehammer.  He strained to get his thumbs up his ass and start humping.  He did not care that his younger sister was watching and laughing.  He did not care that he would not succeed in cumming.  Rather, he cared but he could not help himself. 

Rachel took a marking pen and laughed as she wrote something on his forehead in red.  From his reflection in the glass, he saw the word, ‘Wretch’. 

“So appropriate,” she giggled.  “But now, what would be even more appropriate?”

On his chest, she wrote, “Dr. Wretched Richards, Professor of Perversion.”

“Yes,” she smiled.  “Your dark secret is finally going to be revealed to the world.  The brilliant but arrogant Dr. Richard Richards was secretly a hopeless pervert.  For his own good and the safety of others, Dr. Tabitha Katz and Dr. Judy Campbell with the cooperation of his own mother had him quietly committed to a special form of insane asylum.  Now eighteen years old, his own sister is helping care for the pathetic wretch.  The beauty of this is that any cruelty I think of to do to you will be perceived by the public as giving my sick, perverted brother what he wants.”

“Wretch” was writhing in insane rage and frustration.  But that only kicked in the drugs and hypnotic conditioning even more.  He started humping his own ass even harder. 

“How could they do this to me?” he raged.  “I’m Dr. Richard Richards.  I’m a man.  I’m brilli- I- I- hump my ass, hump my ass.  No!  No!  I- I’m Dr. Rich- richie no Richard Rich- need to cum, need to cum, need to cum, hump ass, hump ass, hump ass, can’t cum, please let me cum, hump…” 

As he began losing himself again in the endless cycle, Rachel cheerfully mocked, “It will be Mother’s Day soon.”

She hummed happily and stroked herself, enjoying his agony. 

“Dear me, what would she like to see for Mother’s Day?”

“No!” he silently screamed.  “Noooo!  I’m a man, I-I- need to cum, please let me cum.  Hump. Hump…”

He knew it would never end. 

“Poor brother,” Rachel taunted.  “Naked, shaved, pierced.  We’ve taken your voice, your mobility, and every iota of your freedom and dignity.  Trapped in an endless cycle of frustration in your tight, tight pouch.  Chastitybelted and cathetered.  Naked, shaved, pierced…”

Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 3

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 3 by Gloryboy based on the original story by Thorne

Dr. Richard Richards or, rather, the naked, shaved, pierced, immobilized, cathetered, silent, chastity-belted non-entity that had once been Dr. Richard Richards knelt in his plexiglass cage as he had done for several years.  He had lost all track of time but recently realized it must have been four years because of what Virginia Givens did to him. 

The gorgeous college student had been making her weekly visit to watch him while Tabitha and Judy were out.  Some time ago, she had finally revealed to Tabitha that she knew the male trophy in the case was her former professor. 

He had been sure that, eventually, his mind would snap from the frustrated sexual desires and complete inability to move.  But Tabitha did not even allow him that escape.  A combination of hypnotism and drugs revitalized his mind.  He was still as coherent and as angry as on the first day.  He felt every day of the four years in his aching balls and in his muscles, stiff from the immobility (though some of the drugs relaxed his muscles enough to keep the pain from being so great it blocked out the pain of the sexual frustration, which Tabitha wanted him to feel most of all).  “Coherent” was a loosely used word, however, since all he could think about was his need to cum. 

Virginia Givens had her full breasts inches from his face when she said, “Poor horny professor, or may I call you rickypoo?  So, rickypoo, I’m sorry to say that this is goodbye.  You see, I’ve graduated and I’m leaving.”

She leaned to the opening at his nose and kissed it. 

“You know, in the months, years and even decades ahead, it will give me such pleasure to know that, whatever I do in life, every moment of every day, I’ll know exactly where you are, even to the exact inch.  I’ll even know exactly every detail of what positions your body parts are in.  You’ll be right here, naked, shaved, immobilized, silent, humping your own sexist ass, suffering endless frustration like the useless piece of garbage you are.”

She gave his aching nuts, in their tight, tight pouch, one last agonizing squeeze.

“Have a good life, rickypoo,” she grinned. 

Then she walked out, leaving him staring at her ass and humping his own in an endless, useless attempt to cum. 

He thought this was the worst, most humiliated and degraded he could possibly get.  He was so wrong.

Tabitha's Revenge: Chapter 2

Tabitha’s Revenge: Chapter 2 by Gloryboy based on the original story by Thorne

Tabitha locked eyes with him and he experienced that sinking feeling of being totally outwitted as if she had predicted his every reaction and thought.
"Of course", she smirked, "the ultimate irony is that this sad, depraved excuse for a man is quite and most likely permanently impotent."
His eyes widened at that. What was she saying? She did not mean- could not mean…
Again, their eyes locked and her look said, "I have you right where I want you."
To the class, she said, "This poor unfortunate pervert will spend hours a day attempting to stimulate himself to ejaculation. He will try and he will fail- over and over and over and over again. Yet, as you can see, he can't stop."

Indeed he could not stop. His passion for relief was too great. She had implanted hypnotic restrictions that, along with the drugs and the pouch, would prevent him from achieving ejaculation. Sweat stood out on his face and he felt his face heating with indescribable passions. But it was an ever-building passion that was totally unsatisfiable. He moaned pitifully into his gag but no sound could be heard in the outside world.

"This pathetic wretch will live out his life in this plexiglass cage" she continued.  "Naked, gagged, bound, shaved, chastity-belted, caged, unable to achieve sexual relief."

In spite of the sadness of the situation just described, most of the girls couldn't help giggling. Tabitha joined them.

"As strange as it may seem," she continued, "our presence is actually helping this sad creature in a way."

"How can that be?" asked Virginia Givens.

"Well," Tabitha explained, "you must remember that this mindless sex machine is incapable of entertaining a coherent thought or any thought whatsoever that does not pertain to sex. When he has no visual stimulation to excite him, he becomes unbelievably frustrated with his situation, just like a caged dog. Only when he has visual stimulation is he happy. Also, remember that he is unable to comprehend his inability to cum. He seriously believes that, by shoving his thumbs up his own anus, he can achieve relief. This activity also probably indicates some latent homosexual tendencies."

Rick was shaking with rage and fear.  This could not really be happening to him, it just could not be, not to Dr. Richard Richards, child prodigy, and stud who could have any woman he wanted. He could not be outwitted by his own female grad student and forced to spend his entire life naked, shaved, bound, gagged, chastity-belted, totally immobilized inside a plexiglass booth, unable to cum, with no identity, thought of as a sex-crazed animal with no thoughts whatsoever. There had to be a way to get out of this and get revenge.

Meanwhile, Tabitha was so hot she could barely contain herself. Her thighs trembled with excitement and she leaned on the desk to support herself and squeezed her legs together to stave off an impending orgasm. The fact that Rick was writhing in agony unable to ever achieve an orgasm made her so hot she had to fight to prevent her's from happening right now. She forced her mind back to the room as she realized someone was speaking.

"You- you mean then that, by stimulating him sexually, we would be helping him?" said Virginia.

"Yes indeed," Tabitha said. "Soon I am going to have this poor wretch moved to my home so that he can be kept under constant surveillance. But I don't want to be cruel."

She gave him the most wicked smile imaginable as she said that.

"I want this poor less-than-man to have constant female companionship throughout his every waking hour. I don't want an hour of the day to go by when there is not a lovely woman in view of his immobilized silent face."

"Oh you mean like volunteer watches?" Virginia said.

"Exactly," Tabitha said. "And the more- shall we say- casually dressed, the better."

Again there was giggling and it grew in volume. Rick Richards raged helplessly in the silent immobility of his endless prison, fearing he would never escape or gain revenge for he had been totally outwitted and defeated by Tabitha, his lovely grad student.

Finally, the class session ended for that day. Tabitha slowly walked over, grinning at the immobilized male.

"How long has it been since you've been able to cum, rickypoo?" she mocked. "In fact, how long has it been since you've been able to move a muscle? Going into our fourth week now, aren't we? Oh but I keep forgetting. You can't answer me. I've taken your voice, your mobility, your bodyhair and your dignity as well as your identity. You will spend the rest of your life as a hairless, silent, immobilized non-entity. You will receive no sexual relief but experience constant arousal and frustration. I'll make sure of that. You should never have presumed that you could treat me as one of your conquests or steal my ideas to claim as your own. Now your career, your house and your very life belong to me. Let me ask you a question, rickypoo. I know that the chastitybelt pouch is extra, extra tight, just as I like it. I know its crushing your oh so manly jewels in a viselike grip. I know your erection that you've used on so many women and girls but will never use on anyone again is being agonizingly restricted in that pouch. But I have a few questions. First of all, I see the catheter tube running into the pouch. I just want to know, does it hurt rickypoo? Does that plastic tube running into you hurt real bad?  Gosh, I know it does. And I just want you to know I love it. Oh and how about that intravenous tube running into your mouth and down your throat? Does that feel good? I sure hope so."

Tabitha glanced at the monitor on the outside of the plexiglass. It showed her his vital signs, which were elevated to the extreme.

"I'll bet," she grinned, "that right now, that you are more desperately, unspeakable horny than you have ever been in your entire life. I'll bet you've got the worst case of blueballs that have ever existed in the history of the world. Well, poor baby, they are only going to get worse."

She leaned close to the plexiglass, her face mere inches from his.

"Suffer!" she whispered.

She walked to the door.

"Tomorrow," she said, "we move you. But for now, here's one last lovely thought for you."

She bent forward giving him a good view of her cleavage. She saw his nice, muscular sweaty body tense even more, saw the needles on the monitor leap with activity.

"Pleasant dreams, rickypoo," she said. "Sleep well."

The lights went out and the door shut. She stepped around to a monitor and watched what he did when he thought he was not being observed, although what he could do was almost nothing of course. He let out a scream of frustration which she could hear over the sound system though the naked ear in the room could not have heard it. Of course it was not all that much of a scream with the tube in his throat but it was enough for her to get hot seeing his condition. He continued humping his own ass, trying for that impossible ejaculation.

Dr. Richard Richards, or more precisely, the helpless slave that had once been him, knelt there. His mind was filled with thoughts. But those thoughts were essentially, "Need to piss, need to shit, need to cum so bad."

His rage and terror became even worse as he realized he really was becoming the creature Tabitha described to the classroom. He strained uselessly against his bonds. He felt the sexual heat striking him in nauseating, unfulfillable waves. His stomach was cramping; his entire body was shaking with the need to cum. His tender, sore, aching nuts within their extra, extra tight pouch prison were hurting beyond belief with their month old load of unreleased cum, a load that would only get bigger and bigger and would never be released. The desires overwhelmed him. With his thumbs, the only parts of his anatomy that he could move, he started desperately pressing the dildo device further into his ass by the slight amount that he could. For just a moment, what he was doing overwhelmed him with humiliation.

"No!" he silently cried in his mind. "I'm Dr. Richard Richards. I'm a brilliant man. I'm a man. This can't be happening to me. No woman can turn the tables and do this to me. I can't be doomed to spend the rest of my life like this. I- I- I- I-"

But then, the unsatisfiable passions overwhelmed him and he groaned in frustration, lost in the act of putting all his concentration into the task of shoving that dildo up his ass, even though he knew he could not cum. It had to be possible. Her trap could not be inescapable. But then he was lost in a mad frenzy of thrusting. He felt it happen as he had endless times in the last month. He felt his aching balls tightening with that feeling that relief was inevitable. Nothing could stop it. But they stayed in that state for endless, agonizing moments, then the feeling began to subside, leaving him with a case of blueballs even more agonizingly painful than before. It was useless. The extra, extra tight pouch, the catheter, the drugs and hypnotic conditioning, the extremely limited method of stimulation. He could not cum no matter how badly he needed to. He just could not. Then he screamed a silent cry of ultimate male frustration and started humping his own ass again in a mindless, desperate need to cum, already knowing it was doomed to failure, but unable to resist trying.

The next morning, a Saturday, having had virtually no sleep the night before, he was moved to his own apartment, now Tabitha's. She had started renting it after his disappearance. Tabitha's roommate had helped move him. His eyes were wide with rage and humiliation when he saw where they were going to put him. There was an alcove in his wall where he had kept his various trophies. His plexiglass cage fitted perfectly into that alcove. He realized he had become nothing but a trophy on display, an immobilized, shaved trophy in a display case. Tabitha held up the plaque that would be placed outside the "display". It read: "This shaved, immobilized, silenced, catheterized less than man is an example of what a man becomes when he lets sexual desires rule him. Please do not attempt to feed although you may lightly touch his pouch."
Tabitha's lover, Judy, looked at the plexiglass.
"I see it has two openings," she said, "one for his face with that mask over it and one for his pouch so he can't rub it against anything."
She was a beautiful girl. She stepped up to the cage where he knelt. She placed a long, lingering kiss right on his exposed nose, almost suckling it. Meanwhile her hand squeezed his tight, tight pouch. His eyes were the only visible indication of the agony he was in. Judy stepped back.

"So, you were a big man on campus?" she smirked. "Not anymore. And you know what, Mr. Stud? Even if you weren't the effectively castrated and immobilized statue I see, I would still have no use for you except to watch you suffer."

Judy smiled and walked away from the helpless male. She and Tabitha began kissing and caressing. Inside his prison, Rick Richards screamed in frustration and rage. He could not believe this. Tabitha was almost whimpering in pleasure.
"You'd like to kill me, wouldn't you rickypoo?" she mocked. "Well, you'll never get the chance, poor baby."

Tears of frustration and humiliation ran from his eyes.

"Aw, is the poor boy all upset at his predicament?" she mocked.

"Maybe we should just castrate him?" Judy teased.

"Oh no," Tabitha laughed. "That would only end his suffering. No. He stays as he is: naked, shaved, gagged, bound, immobilized, pouched, silent- a muscular male trophy display."

The next morning, Virginia showed up at the apartment. For a moment, Tabitha was confused. Then she remembered.

"Oh yes. You had first shift watching him," she said. "Feel free to watch television. Just let him look at you. He isn't going anywhere."

After Tabitha and Judy had left, Virginia walked over to the cage. She slowly unbuttoned and removed her shirt, watching the helpless man's desperate, pleading eyes as she did so.

"Enjoying the show, Dr. Richards?" she smirked.

It took a moment before he realized what she had said. Then he stared wide-eyed, that being about all he could do.

"Oh yes," she laughed. "I know who you are. I realized it when I saw you in class that day. You had that same look of lust in your eyes that you did all those times you hit on me. But don't worry. I won't tell anybody. I think what Tabitha has done to you is incredible."

Virginia had lowered her pants and was slowly massaging her womanhood as she spoke.

"You sexist piece of garbage, I love that you're going to spend the rest of your life like this- and that I can tease and torment you to my heart's content."

She looked into his eyes again as she played with herself.

"Oh, would you like to get inside of me, poor baby? Well you're going to spend the rest of your life naked, shaved, chastity-belted, in a tight, tight pouch, silent, immobilized, robbed of all dignity and identity, helplessly caught in an endless quest for sexual relief, constantly in mindless sexual frustration and pain yet never able to cum. Naked, shaved-"
She repeated the words and laughed as he screamed again in ultimate male frustration, a scream that would never end as long as he lived.