{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"ea5c901c-413c-46dc-8c20-16c7349fefaf","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2023-01-24T13:00:37.197Z","title":"A Tribute To Viddler","slug":"a-tribute-to-viddler","shortId":"aDgLbJPE","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"A very short story, as a guy dominates and tortures a girl.","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"86cc1bef-56d4-4475-a3f1-74d791f799e5","title":null,"summary":"A Tribute To Viddler “So, Angie, have you ever heard of anybody called Viddler?” “W","wordCount":1431,"readTime":7,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"

A Tribute To Viddler

“So, Angie, have you ever heard of anybody called Viddler?”

“What? No, Mark, I haven’t, it’s a stupid name. Look, just let me go, and I won’t say anything else about this. Let me down. My arms are really starting to hurt. I’ll scream.”

“I’m sure that you will scream, later. But it won’t do you any good. I’ve had this cellar soundproofed. I said that it was for my rock music. But I guess that one lot of soundproofing is as good as another.”

“C’mon, mark, please, it’s gone beyond a joke.”

“It’s no joke, Angie. If you’d read anything by Viddler you’d know that. His stories feature a lot of girls getting hurt. He especially likes stories where girls get burnt by cigarettes because the stupid bitches won’t do what they are told.”

“Why are you getting that cigarette lighter out, Mark?”

“Why? Because the cigarettes won’t light themselves, that’s why. I like Viddler’s stories. I like the idea of some pale flesh being burned with cigarettes. It turns me on.”

“You’re sick.”

“I wouldn’t say that, if I were you, Angie. You’re the one with her wrists chained to a bolt in the ceiling and your ankles chained to bolts in the floor. I can do anything I want to you.”

“Let me go, you pervert.”

“No, I don’t think so, Angie. I don’t want to let you go. Not until I have broken you as a slave, and we are a long way from there yet. What I think that I will do is undo the buttons of your blouse. Don’t move. There, you moved, and now you’ve made me yank on the front of your blouse and the buttons are all on the floor.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, I will fuck you. But not yet. First I’ll use these scissors to cut open the arms of your blouse. There, now the blouse has gone, and I can see your bra. What a nice, flowery one it is.”

“Please, don’t.”

“There’s no use begging, Angie. Not unless you want to beg me to hurt you. And you will, before we’ve finished. You might not believe it, but you are going to beg me to burn your nipples with cigarettes. You are going to beg me to burn you all over your body with cigarettes. You will beg to drink my piss.”

“That’s disgusting. I’ll never do that, you fucking pervert.”

“Ah, a couple of snips with the scissors and your bra’s gone. Isn’t that better? Look, your nipples are hard. I bet that, on some level, you’re enjoying this. You secretly want me to burn your nipples with cigarettes, don’t you?”

“You are fucking insane.”

“No, it will be you who will be insane with pain. Remember that however painful burning you with cigarettes is, there is always something worse that I can do to you. I’ve got soldering irons down here. And curling tongs. And a clothes’ iron. Those are just the things to produce heat. So when I say that you will beg me to burn you with cigarettes you had better believe me that you will do it.

“What, no witty response? Well, let’s have a look at the rest of you, Angie. I know I’ve seen the rest of you, Angie, but that was under the sheets with the lights out. Not like this. Hm, the material of your skirt is a bit tough. But the blades of these scissors are really sharp. There, that’s the skirt gone. Just these little red panties left. Beg me to cut your panties off, Angie. Burn me to cut them off or I will burn you with the flame of the cigarette lighter. Look, there’s the flame. See how pretty it is. Watch it as I slowly bring it towards your nipple. Imagine what it will feel like as I engulf your nipple in it, turning it into a charred brown stub…”

“Please cut my panties off.”

“Okay, since you asked so nicely. Look, I’m putting the cigarette lighter down. Zippo lighters are the coolest, aren’t they? There, just a couple of snips and the panties are gone, revealing your luscious lips and that landing strip of pubic hair. I don’t think that you’ll need any panties again, anyway, Angie. I think that I’ll keep you down here as my slave. Nobody knows that you’re here.

“At least you won’t be cold. I don’t know if you can see over your shoulder, but there is a furnace down here. Where are the metal tongs? Ah, there they are. You wouldn’t want me to burn my hands opening it, would you? There, in go your clothes. You wouldn’t want to wear them, anyway, now that they’ve been cut to pieces. There, the furnace is closed again. It gets a bit too hot in here when it’s open. Now let me have a good look at you. Let me take a really good look at your pussy. I don’t know why you hide it away. It really is very nice. That hair will have to go, though. I want your cunt to be totally bald. I think that it looks more perverse. Maybe I will burn the hair off.”

“Please, let me go, this has gone beyond a joke.”

“I told you, Angie, I’m not letting you go. Not for a long time. Not until you’re fully broken. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, your training. I want you to beg me to burn your nipples, Angie. I’m starting to get impatient, and you wouldn’t like it when I’m angry. If you do what you’re told then maybe I won’t put pictures of your naked body on the internet, or send them to your parents.”

“Oh, god…”

“Of course I may decide to put pictures of you on the internet anyway. But, don’t worry, if you obey me, I will leave out your face, so that you can’t be recognised, and nobody will know that I’m responsible. I’ll just put out pictures of your breasts. I’ll do before and after pictures, Angie. Do you know what I mean?”

“No.”

“Oh, I’m sure that you do, Angie. They’ll be pictures of your breasts before and after I’ve burned them with cigarettes. I’ve got a whole pack of cigarettes here, Angie. Look, here they are. Think of all the black marks on the pale flesh of your tits. Won’t they look pretty? What, you’re shaking your head? I think that your tits would look pretty covered with cigarette burns. And I do mean covered with them. Think of how many burns you could do with a single cigarette. And I’ve got a whole pack here. If you don’t beg me to burn your nipples then maybe I’ll just burn all your breast flesh and leave your nipples alone. But if you beg me – and I mean really beg me – then maybe I’ll only singe the tips of your nipples and leave your milky breasts alone. Or maybe I’ll get a dog – a big one, like a Great Dane – and force you to suck its cock. I find it really erotic watching videos of girls sucking the cocks of dogs. I’d make sure that you swallowed all of its spunk. Maybe I would make you suck it off every day. Maybe I’d video it and put it up on the internet, so that all of your friends would be able to see how much you love sucking doggie cock.

“Unless you beg me to burn your nipples.”

“Please… I mean, you’re just going to touch them with the cigarette, not really burn them, are you?”

“That doesn’t really sound like begging, Angie. This is not a negotiation, you know. I’ll give you just one more chance to really beg. And then, if your begging is not good enough, I’ll work my way through all of the cigarettes in the packet, using your tits as an ashtray.”

“Please burn my nipples, Mark. I want you to burn them with cigarettes. I really want you to burn them.”

“Okay, since you asked so nicely. See, I’m lighting a cigarette. Watch me puff on it until I get a nice orange ember at the end. Feel the pleasure as I touch it to both your nipples, first one, then the other.”

“Aaaaah.”

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Just a touch. It won’t even leave a permanent mark. Just a little bit of pain, that’s all.”

“Oh…”

“Angie?”

“Yes, master?”

“Beg me to burn your clit.”

The End.

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