Those well honed muscles will look great covered in welts.MAV wrote: ↑Fri Jan 06, 2023 10:21 amThe AOH beatdown of Lora Cross's amazingly FIT bod is now available
https://www.clips4sale.com/studio/140175/27038647/
Hopefully the rest of you GIMPers get to see her in this AOH interrogation clip soon Athletic GIMPs
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hornythumb
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Re: Athletic GIMPs
Re: Athletic GIMPs
It's been a while, so how about some lifeguards strapped to their own rescue boards..
Back in my day to maintain your ticket you had to rescue someone from the pool against the clock, so the “victims” were generally the lightest female lifeguards… You got tow them, strap them down to the boards, get them to try and escape to make sure the straps were secure, and then carry them away.. And you got paid for it!! Too bad cell phones weren’t around then.
Back in my day to maintain your ticket you had to rescue someone from the pool against the clock, so the “victims” were generally the lightest female lifeguards… You got tow them, strap them down to the boards, get them to try and escape to make sure the straps were secure, and then carry them away.. And you got paid for it!! Too bad cell phones weren’t around then.
Re: Athletic GIMPs
Been a while, but I’ve been working on another story – the first two parts set the scene for other stories will follow in due course, I hope you enjoy.
It is towards the more extreme end of the material on this site – if you’re not a fan of body modification / unhappy endings perhaps avoid, other suggestions of where to post welcome.
Feedback is appreciated, if you have any suggested victims for the surgeon, that would be fun.
The Surgeon: A story by Ganemede
Part 1: Home Improvements
Her colleagues at the private hospital knew very little about her outside of work. She was a world class orthopedic surgeon with an outstanding reputation - clients were willing to wait months for her services, and to pay handsomely for them.
In her early 50’s, her slender figure and long grey hair gave her a distinguished look - there were the inevitable rumors circulating amongst the younger staff surrounding her, particularly about her sexuality, but none had ever come close to guessing the truth behind her slightly intimidating facade.
She was amiable enough with her colleagues – they respected her professional excellence, although her slightly aloof attitude meant that they didn’t delve into her personal life, and they didn’t mind at all that she didn’t socialize with any of them outside of the most cursory attendance at work functions.
Her reputation as an excellent surgeon was well deserved; she was exceptionally talented at helping her patients recover from injuries, accidents or other traumatic events, and supporting them to get back to their normal lives as quickly as possible, or at least helping them to adapt to whatever misfortunes life had thrown at them, and she thoroughly enjoyed seeing her patients regaining their strength and confidence as the weeks went by. Her clandestine hobby however, was the exact opposite – taking fit and healthy women, and turning them into helpless shadows of their former selves, the absolute counterpoint of what she had promised in her Hippocratic oath all those years ago. The irony was not lost on her that the hours spent practicing surgical techniques and honing her therapeutic skills during all of her extra-curricular activities at home was a significant benefit to her actual patients, although she suspected that this would be of scant comfort to the women on whom she inflicted days, and sometimes weeks of agonies.
She lived alone in a large property outside of the city that she had inherited from her parents – she had modernized it substantially over the years, and she used her lengthy commute and seemingly endless renovation projects as excuses avoid being pressured in to socializing with colleagues. When pressed about why she never joined in social events and what she did in her spare time she would talk endlessly about historic building conservation regulations and the dramas of her latest project, and after a while eyes would glaze over, and the questions eventually stopped.
All of what she said was true – she was indeed constantly working on upgrades to her houses, but the main one – a discrete expansion of her sub-basement - had been completed many years ago. She had designed it herself, thoroughly enjoying the process of designing her very own chamber of horrors, and trying to imagine all the scenarios and procedures she would be undertaking with her “guests”. She had designed the basic layout herself using some free online software, but given the extend of the required excavations and volumes of materials required she knew she it was a significant piece of physical work to undertake, far beyond what she could hope to have accomplished herself.
When the time came to engage a contractor, she chose a company that was used to delivering confidential military projects. She had stated to them that she was part of a survivalist group, and as a doctor she had been assigned the task of creating their medical facilities. The contractors were presented with a strict non-disclosure agreement from her “group” about the project and were offered 5 times their quote to ensure the secrecy of the project – they had gladly accepted the conditions and the work given the economic climate at the time and completed the work efficiently with no questions asked.
The space was simple and compact, but it was evident that the design had been well thought through. In the end, by virtue of the existing basement above, a rectangular layout formed the basic shape, and given the limited space form had followed function. The centerpiece was a brightly lit circular space just large enough to accommodate an operating table and associated paraphernalia - the central space had a functional vinyl floor with drains for easy cleaning and disposal of any spilled fluids, and above an overhead surgical lamp and various HD cameras jostled for space along with several winches and smaller spotlights.
There was a space set aside for storage of furniture and equipment, and a small room for storage of her “guests” when she needed to leave them for extended periods. She kept her guests strictly restrained at all times, either strapped to the operating table, hanging by their wrists or ankles or crammed into what she called her “cabinet”, so this cell wasn’t really necessary, but the extra level of confinement added yet another layer of torment to her victims as they felt their cages wheeled into the silent, pitch-black, suffocating space, sometimes for days at a time.
She’d experimented with various cages and crates over the years – in the end she’d settled on what was essentially a steel filing cabinet on wheels for keeping her victims for extended periods of time. The “traditional” BDSM cages worked fine for consenting participants, but for abducted women desperate to escape, the ability to reach between the bars was not ideal.
The solid design had further benefits – it was airtight – she had added some light-proof ventilation openings, but these could be sealed, leaving the woman trapped inside to suffocate in the pitch black, cramped interior. She very much enjoyed this particular torment, and had installed some Infrared cameras and microphones to be able to watch and listen to her captives as the air inside became thicker and thicker.
The solid walls also meant there was also no possibility of sticking hands or feet thought the bars to gain a few inches of precious space for comfort, and any urination or defecation would stay trapped within the cabinet until the doors were opened.
She’d originally allowed the whole cabinet for a single captive, but after she’d been forced to use the cabinet to host two women at once during their incarceration, she’d not felt the need to remove the shelf to provide any additional space for her single-occupancy guests.
Another advantage of the airtight design was that she could administer anesthetic gas to the occupant or occupants without having to open the door, something which on occasions made her life much easier, and sometimes just for fun she would blow clouds of thick cigar smoke into the cabinet and listen to the distant choking sounds from within the terrible metal box.
A small kitchenette and had been incorporated into one corner for when she was entertaining or undertaking a particularly long procedure which would require a break and some sustenance. A large projector was mounted into the roof, so that most of a whole wall of the space could be used as a screen, and the only nod to comfort in the space was a cluster of comfy leather armchairs in front of the screen. The entire space was heavily sound-proofed, and was pleasantly air conditioned, not just for her comfort, but as an operational necessity.
Although she was trim, she wasn’t exceptionally physically strong, especially compared to some of the powerfully athletic women she so enjoyed torturing, so she had to be meticulous with keeping her guests constantly restrained, and relying heavily on her extensive drug cabinet. She had studied anesthesiology as part of her medical training, and was more than capable of administering a wide range of drugs to keep her victims either subdued or awake, depending on the need. Her extensive collection of drugs and other samples needed constant refrigeration, and the large medical drug fridges rejected quite a lot of heat – without the air conditioning the space would quickly become unbearable. She sometimes allowed the space to heat up in this way, especially when her victims were locked in the metal cabinet, she would sometimes let them pass out from heat exhaustion, trapped in their claustrophobic, pitch black hell, their pitiful cries for release and mercy getting weaker and weaker and eventually falling silent. Once they were unconscious, she would open the cabinet, revive and rehydrate them for whatever she had planned next – her victims often distraught that they hadn’t escaped into a merciful death..
A touch she appreciated more as she got older was the bariatric stairlift that had been installed – it made bringing incapacitated or immobilized guests, or guests who found themselves inside some form of transport case or box, down the steep stairs to the secure steel door much easier.
The overall project had been far from cheap, but it was well worth it; it had turned out even better than she’d hoped, and she’d had to contain her enthusiasm at the completed project whilst she waited for the opportunity to test it out on her first victim.
She wanted an opportunity to give her project a shakedown before she arranged for "real" victim to be delivered, she didn’t want to deal with any distractions from un-proven equipment, so she had been keeping an eye out for several months for a potential local target who wouldn’t be missed, and on whom she could test out her new lair.
She eventually found someone from the next town, Her name was Stephanie, she was in her late 40s, unremarkable in appearance but was in shape for her age. More importantly she lived alone and kept herself to herself - her husband had been tragically killed in a climbing accident the year before, and she was still on compassionate leave from her job, and even better she took long jog early every morning through the forest. When the time was right it had been almost too easy – she knew the route the woman took every day and she’d been deliberately walking in the opposite direction with one of her dogs the last couple of months to make sure that her routine was constant, they were to the point of smiling and waving when they saw each other. One foggy morning she parked her SUV on the side of the road where she would be passing, raised the hood and turned the blinkers on. The woman was right on schedule and seeing a the familiar face of the dog-walker stopped to see if she could help.. As she lent over the engine bay she barely felt the prick on her butt cheek as a powerful sedative was injected through her thin shorts - within seconds she collapsed unconscious on the side of the road and her limp body was quickly bundled into the trunk of the surgeon’s car. The woman’s disappearance had made the evening news when she was eventually reported missing , although the local police had never made any progress on the case. They’d even come in to the hospital to talk to the female staff about the dangers of walking alone, and handed out some pepper sprays which she had taken with an appropriately serious air from the female police officer. She’d asked her if they had any leads as she was very concerned for her safety, being a single woman living alone.. The officer had confided earnestly that they didn’t have any leads – their current approach was that it was an opportunist abduction by someone passing through town, and sadly, their chances of making a break on the case were almost zero.. She told her that if this was true, the chances of it happening again were low, but as always the best defense was to stay aware of her surroundings..
She earnestly thanked the officer, trying to avoid the hot flush between her legs knowing that the woman on the missing person post was currently inescapably strapped down to a surgical table deep below her seemingly idyllic home..
The Surgeon was pleasantly surprised that Stephanie had lasted longer than she’d anticipated – she had written a list of apparatus, drugs and procedures that she wanted to test on the unfortunate woman, and over the space of a few days these were all completed, although Stephanie was in terrible shape by the end of it, the winches, scalpels and perpetual strenuous bondage had all taken a huge toll on her body, but here was one last test she would assist the surgeon with, and for that the surgeon brought down an empty 50 gallon barrel.
The bariatric stairlift that had been installed included a platform, ostensibly so a wheelchair user could be transported, but equally useful for conveying her immobile visitors down to the basement, or removing what was left of them when she was done. The lift was rated for a load of upto 600lb, and she wanted to put that to the test. The barrel, when full of water should way around 550lb, the human body is almost the same density as water so with Stephanie inside the barrel, the weight would be a good stress test for the new lift.
She removed the leather straps binding the jogger to the table, and quickly secured her wrists and ankles with duct tape, meeting little resistance from her debilitated captive.
For the first time since her capture, she removed Stephanie’s blindfold, and she blinked under the glare of the bright surgical lights shining down on them. She didn’t have time to adjust to the lights as she felt herself being lifted, and then suddenly dropped unceremoniously, butt first into the steel barrel, a muffled scream as she landed hard on her coccyx.
With her major joints all dislocated and several major tendons cut, she struggled inside the barrel as best she could , but it would have been hard for an able bodied person to extract themselves, let alone a severely injured and bound woman. The surgeon took one last look at the miserable woman before sealing the lid onto the barrel, connecting a hose and turning on the water. Being at the lowest point of her house, the water pressure was good, and the level inside the barrel began to rise inexorably. The sounds of struggling, mixed with frantic splashing from within the barrel were redoubled as the terrified woman fought for her life in the pitch black as the freezing water rose around her. The It wasn’t long before the noises stopped and water began to overflow the barrel. The hose was turned off, and silence returned to the basement which had just claimed it’s first of many victims.
The surgeon removed the hose from the lid of the barrel, sealed it, and with the help of a hand truck loaded it onto the stairlift for the final test which was completed without incident.
One upstairs, she completed the final step she drained some of the water and poured in some instant concrete mix and securely sealed the lid for the last time. She rolled the barrel down the gentle slope of her lawn to ensure that the concrete fully mixed on it’s journey to the small lake at the bottom of the hill where the barrel disappeared instantly into the murky brown water.
The surgeon was exceptionally pleased with how her project had performed on it’s trial run, her guinea pig had served her purpose and she was excited to get the preparations underway for her first real guest..
To be continued..
It is towards the more extreme end of the material on this site – if you’re not a fan of body modification / unhappy endings perhaps avoid, other suggestions of where to post welcome.
Feedback is appreciated, if you have any suggested victims for the surgeon, that would be fun.
The Surgeon: A story by Ganemede
Part 1: Home Improvements
Her colleagues at the private hospital knew very little about her outside of work. She was a world class orthopedic surgeon with an outstanding reputation - clients were willing to wait months for her services, and to pay handsomely for them.
In her early 50’s, her slender figure and long grey hair gave her a distinguished look - there were the inevitable rumors circulating amongst the younger staff surrounding her, particularly about her sexuality, but none had ever come close to guessing the truth behind her slightly intimidating facade.
She was amiable enough with her colleagues – they respected her professional excellence, although her slightly aloof attitude meant that they didn’t delve into her personal life, and they didn’t mind at all that she didn’t socialize with any of them outside of the most cursory attendance at work functions.
Her reputation as an excellent surgeon was well deserved; she was exceptionally talented at helping her patients recover from injuries, accidents or other traumatic events, and supporting them to get back to their normal lives as quickly as possible, or at least helping them to adapt to whatever misfortunes life had thrown at them, and she thoroughly enjoyed seeing her patients regaining their strength and confidence as the weeks went by. Her clandestine hobby however, was the exact opposite – taking fit and healthy women, and turning them into helpless shadows of their former selves, the absolute counterpoint of what she had promised in her Hippocratic oath all those years ago. The irony was not lost on her that the hours spent practicing surgical techniques and honing her therapeutic skills during all of her extra-curricular activities at home was a significant benefit to her actual patients, although she suspected that this would be of scant comfort to the women on whom she inflicted days, and sometimes weeks of agonies.
She lived alone in a large property outside of the city that she had inherited from her parents – she had modernized it substantially over the years, and she used her lengthy commute and seemingly endless renovation projects as excuses avoid being pressured in to socializing with colleagues. When pressed about why she never joined in social events and what she did in her spare time she would talk endlessly about historic building conservation regulations and the dramas of her latest project, and after a while eyes would glaze over, and the questions eventually stopped.
All of what she said was true – she was indeed constantly working on upgrades to her houses, but the main one – a discrete expansion of her sub-basement - had been completed many years ago. She had designed it herself, thoroughly enjoying the process of designing her very own chamber of horrors, and trying to imagine all the scenarios and procedures she would be undertaking with her “guests”. She had designed the basic layout herself using some free online software, but given the extend of the required excavations and volumes of materials required she knew she it was a significant piece of physical work to undertake, far beyond what she could hope to have accomplished herself.
When the time came to engage a contractor, she chose a company that was used to delivering confidential military projects. She had stated to them that she was part of a survivalist group, and as a doctor she had been assigned the task of creating their medical facilities. The contractors were presented with a strict non-disclosure agreement from her “group” about the project and were offered 5 times their quote to ensure the secrecy of the project – they had gladly accepted the conditions and the work given the economic climate at the time and completed the work efficiently with no questions asked.
The space was simple and compact, but it was evident that the design had been well thought through. In the end, by virtue of the existing basement above, a rectangular layout formed the basic shape, and given the limited space form had followed function. The centerpiece was a brightly lit circular space just large enough to accommodate an operating table and associated paraphernalia - the central space had a functional vinyl floor with drains for easy cleaning and disposal of any spilled fluids, and above an overhead surgical lamp and various HD cameras jostled for space along with several winches and smaller spotlights.
There was a space set aside for storage of furniture and equipment, and a small room for storage of her “guests” when she needed to leave them for extended periods. She kept her guests strictly restrained at all times, either strapped to the operating table, hanging by their wrists or ankles or crammed into what she called her “cabinet”, so this cell wasn’t really necessary, but the extra level of confinement added yet another layer of torment to her victims as they felt their cages wheeled into the silent, pitch-black, suffocating space, sometimes for days at a time.
She’d experimented with various cages and crates over the years – in the end she’d settled on what was essentially a steel filing cabinet on wheels for keeping her victims for extended periods of time. The “traditional” BDSM cages worked fine for consenting participants, but for abducted women desperate to escape, the ability to reach between the bars was not ideal.
The solid design had further benefits – it was airtight – she had added some light-proof ventilation openings, but these could be sealed, leaving the woman trapped inside to suffocate in the pitch black, cramped interior. She very much enjoyed this particular torment, and had installed some Infrared cameras and microphones to be able to watch and listen to her captives as the air inside became thicker and thicker.
The solid walls also meant there was also no possibility of sticking hands or feet thought the bars to gain a few inches of precious space for comfort, and any urination or defecation would stay trapped within the cabinet until the doors were opened.
She’d originally allowed the whole cabinet for a single captive, but after she’d been forced to use the cabinet to host two women at once during their incarceration, she’d not felt the need to remove the shelf to provide any additional space for her single-occupancy guests.
Another advantage of the airtight design was that she could administer anesthetic gas to the occupant or occupants without having to open the door, something which on occasions made her life much easier, and sometimes just for fun she would blow clouds of thick cigar smoke into the cabinet and listen to the distant choking sounds from within the terrible metal box.
A small kitchenette and had been incorporated into one corner for when she was entertaining or undertaking a particularly long procedure which would require a break and some sustenance. A large projector was mounted into the roof, so that most of a whole wall of the space could be used as a screen, and the only nod to comfort in the space was a cluster of comfy leather armchairs in front of the screen. The entire space was heavily sound-proofed, and was pleasantly air conditioned, not just for her comfort, but as an operational necessity.
Although she was trim, she wasn’t exceptionally physically strong, especially compared to some of the powerfully athletic women she so enjoyed torturing, so she had to be meticulous with keeping her guests constantly restrained, and relying heavily on her extensive drug cabinet. She had studied anesthesiology as part of her medical training, and was more than capable of administering a wide range of drugs to keep her victims either subdued or awake, depending on the need. Her extensive collection of drugs and other samples needed constant refrigeration, and the large medical drug fridges rejected quite a lot of heat – without the air conditioning the space would quickly become unbearable. She sometimes allowed the space to heat up in this way, especially when her victims were locked in the metal cabinet, she would sometimes let them pass out from heat exhaustion, trapped in their claustrophobic, pitch black hell, their pitiful cries for release and mercy getting weaker and weaker and eventually falling silent. Once they were unconscious, she would open the cabinet, revive and rehydrate them for whatever she had planned next – her victims often distraught that they hadn’t escaped into a merciful death..
A touch she appreciated more as she got older was the bariatric stairlift that had been installed – it made bringing incapacitated or immobilized guests, or guests who found themselves inside some form of transport case or box, down the steep stairs to the secure steel door much easier.
The overall project had been far from cheap, but it was well worth it; it had turned out even better than she’d hoped, and she’d had to contain her enthusiasm at the completed project whilst she waited for the opportunity to test it out on her first victim.
She wanted an opportunity to give her project a shakedown before she arranged for "real" victim to be delivered, she didn’t want to deal with any distractions from un-proven equipment, so she had been keeping an eye out for several months for a potential local target who wouldn’t be missed, and on whom she could test out her new lair.
She eventually found someone from the next town, Her name was Stephanie, she was in her late 40s, unremarkable in appearance but was in shape for her age. More importantly she lived alone and kept herself to herself - her husband had been tragically killed in a climbing accident the year before, and she was still on compassionate leave from her job, and even better she took long jog early every morning through the forest. When the time was right it had been almost too easy – she knew the route the woman took every day and she’d been deliberately walking in the opposite direction with one of her dogs the last couple of months to make sure that her routine was constant, they were to the point of smiling and waving when they saw each other. One foggy morning she parked her SUV on the side of the road where she would be passing, raised the hood and turned the blinkers on. The woman was right on schedule and seeing a the familiar face of the dog-walker stopped to see if she could help.. As she lent over the engine bay she barely felt the prick on her butt cheek as a powerful sedative was injected through her thin shorts - within seconds she collapsed unconscious on the side of the road and her limp body was quickly bundled into the trunk of the surgeon’s car. The woman’s disappearance had made the evening news when she was eventually reported missing , although the local police had never made any progress on the case. They’d even come in to the hospital to talk to the female staff about the dangers of walking alone, and handed out some pepper sprays which she had taken with an appropriately serious air from the female police officer. She’d asked her if they had any leads as she was very concerned for her safety, being a single woman living alone.. The officer had confided earnestly that they didn’t have any leads – their current approach was that it was an opportunist abduction by someone passing through town, and sadly, their chances of making a break on the case were almost zero.. She told her that if this was true, the chances of it happening again were low, but as always the best defense was to stay aware of her surroundings..
She earnestly thanked the officer, trying to avoid the hot flush between her legs knowing that the woman on the missing person post was currently inescapably strapped down to a surgical table deep below her seemingly idyllic home..
The Surgeon was pleasantly surprised that Stephanie had lasted longer than she’d anticipated – she had written a list of apparatus, drugs and procedures that she wanted to test on the unfortunate woman, and over the space of a few days these were all completed, although Stephanie was in terrible shape by the end of it, the winches, scalpels and perpetual strenuous bondage had all taken a huge toll on her body, but here was one last test she would assist the surgeon with, and for that the surgeon brought down an empty 50 gallon barrel.
The bariatric stairlift that had been installed included a platform, ostensibly so a wheelchair user could be transported, but equally useful for conveying her immobile visitors down to the basement, or removing what was left of them when she was done. The lift was rated for a load of upto 600lb, and she wanted to put that to the test. The barrel, when full of water should way around 550lb, the human body is almost the same density as water so with Stephanie inside the barrel, the weight would be a good stress test for the new lift.
She removed the leather straps binding the jogger to the table, and quickly secured her wrists and ankles with duct tape, meeting little resistance from her debilitated captive.
For the first time since her capture, she removed Stephanie’s blindfold, and she blinked under the glare of the bright surgical lights shining down on them. She didn’t have time to adjust to the lights as she felt herself being lifted, and then suddenly dropped unceremoniously, butt first into the steel barrel, a muffled scream as she landed hard on her coccyx.
With her major joints all dislocated and several major tendons cut, she struggled inside the barrel as best she could , but it would have been hard for an able bodied person to extract themselves, let alone a severely injured and bound woman. The surgeon took one last look at the miserable woman before sealing the lid onto the barrel, connecting a hose and turning on the water. Being at the lowest point of her house, the water pressure was good, and the level inside the barrel began to rise inexorably. The sounds of struggling, mixed with frantic splashing from within the barrel were redoubled as the terrified woman fought for her life in the pitch black as the freezing water rose around her. The It wasn’t long before the noises stopped and water began to overflow the barrel. The hose was turned off, and silence returned to the basement which had just claimed it’s first of many victims.
The surgeon removed the hose from the lid of the barrel, sealed it, and with the help of a hand truck loaded it onto the stairlift for the final test which was completed without incident.
One upstairs, she completed the final step she drained some of the water and poured in some instant concrete mix and securely sealed the lid for the last time. She rolled the barrel down the gentle slope of her lawn to ensure that the concrete fully mixed on it’s journey to the small lake at the bottom of the hill where the barrel disappeared instantly into the murky brown water.
The surgeon was exceptionally pleased with how her project had performed on it’s trial run, her guinea pig had served her purpose and she was excited to get the preparations underway for her first real guest..
To be continued..
Re: Athletic GIMPs
The Surgeon Part 2: Patients
She often stared at herself in the full length mirror of her bathroom, she had always taken good care of her body, but the years had started to take their toll.. She wasn’t fighting it – she was aging gracefully, her eyes and hands just as sharp and steady as they always had been.
She looked at the face staring back at her. She was a monster, and she knew it - the things that she did to other women were utterly unconscionable, but as she pushed her cart around the grocery store nobody would guess that her hobby was torturing and mutilating beautiful women for her own sexual gratification.
She didn’t target a specific race, age or hair color, but her lifelong kink was for for athletic women. She loved the visual spectacle of their bodies – the sculptured lines and subtle bulges of their muscles, but she also appreciated their psychological toughness and motivation that was needed to maintain their bodies in peak physical condition. She knew that the women she targeted valued their physical health and appreciated the amazing things their body was capable of, and she enjoyed this because she delighted in forcefully taking all of that away from them - the psychological torture of being held captive, and having their basic freedoms stripped away from gave her the most wonderful feeling of control over her victims.
Her tortures were far from the superficial ones one some of the websites she occasionally browsed, where the marks would quickly fade from the victim’s body. Her tortures were more permanent in their nature, often significantly modifying her victims’ bodies as a part of the process. A significant part of her pleasure in this was seeing how these women processed the damage that was being inflicted on their were doing to their bodies, and realizing that even if they could somehow escape the nightmare they found themselves in, their lives would never be the same.
Watching the gradual understanding that they may would never again be able to walk, or swim in the ocean or feel a mountain breeze on their face was every bit as enjoyable as the physical torture she so expertly administered.
Before she got fully underway with the more extreme procedures, she loved exploring their bodies and getting to know them intimately, feeling the strength in their muscles, tracing the lines of their tendons. When she got a new arrival, she would just often examine and massage their lithe limbs for hours, causing an extraordinary amount of pain as her strong fingers dug deeply into their flesh.
She would tie them in exposed positions that allowed her to delve deeply into their anatomy, particularly their genitals. A favorite position was to spread their muscular legs, and probe deeply into their most intimate areas – fingers, tools and tongues were used to explore their vagina, cervix, anus and uterus – urethral torture was something she had begun to enjoy immensely as well, sometimes she would suspend her victim by the ankles to add an extra dimension of helplessness while she intimately surveyed their bodies.
She would also spread their jaws and explore their mouths and throats, testing their gag reflexes and toying with a dental drill on their teeth although she seldom inflicted any real harm as she liked her victims faces to remain unspoiled as much as possible throughout the process.
She loved breathplay in all it’s forms, from the desperate heaving breaths that a simple bag placed over the head could quickly produce, to the almost silent convulsing of a hanging. One of her particular favorite procedures to put her victims through was to put them on a ventilator while they were still conscious. It had been inspired by her time spent helping out in her hospital’s ICU during the pandemic, and she had worked out the right cocktail of drugs to keep her patients’ hearts beating, whilst incapacitating the rest of their muscles, leaving them fully conscious but utterly helpless.
She would inject the cocktail of drugs, including some directly into their diaphragms, and then bind their unresisting bodies to the operating tables. She would then intubate them, forcing the laryngoscope deep into their windpipes, past their vocal chords, and leaving behind the flexible tube that would allow the ventilator to pump the air into their lungs, taking away even the usually unconscious freedom of breathing from the hapless victim.
The procedure itself was deeply unpleasant – in hospitals the patient was normally under a general anesthetic before being placed on a ventilator, having an object inserted deep down their throats and being unable to force it out was always utterly terrifying for her victims, especially tighty bound and unable to move their limbs, their eyes streamed tears as they desperately sought some mercy from the woman who now held their life in her hands.
To add to this already nightmarish scenario, she would often manipulate the oxygen levels provided by the ventilator, dropping the oxygen levels in their blood dangerously low and giving them the sensation of being endlessly suffocated while she continued with whatever other torments she had planned.
There were plenty of other medical procedures we was familiar with that she could use to humiliate, incapacitate and generally terrorize the women in her basement them if she chose to - she could extend the breathplay even further with a procedure called a phrenicotomy, which would paralyze their diaphragms and render them permanently dependent on a ventilator.. She could undertake a gastrostomy to allow them to be fed directly with a tube, and an ileostomy to deal with their solid waste, a a transurethral sphincterotomy and catheter to deal with their urine.. Often just describing these procedures to the helplessly bound women would send them in to fits of panic – it was rare she would do these procedures as there were far more enjoyable ways to inflict misery on her captives.
She had always enjoyed sex with women - she often wished she had been born a man to truly experience the thrill of forcing her way inside woman’s body and climaxing deep inside, she had even considered gender re-assignment surgery, but had ultimately decided against it, instead embracing her feminine side, and using her knowledge of her own body and it’s likes and dislikes, coupled with her anatomical expertise to intimately connect with her victims.
She didn’t handle and of the “collection” of her victims as she described it. She had a network of contacts both domestically and overseas with whom she dealt. None of them had ever met her in person, everything being arranged via the dark web. Once the contract was agreed and money exchanged, after several days (depending on the location of the collection) she would receive a location where she would find a vehicle left somewhere with the keys in which she would collect and drive away. Inside the vehicle would be her victim, heavily sedated and inescapably bound, along with a flash drive of any images or videos taken during her capture or the process leading up to it.
In the early days she had selected all her victims personally but during recent years, her contacts had started to suggest potential targets they thought she might enjoy – this was to everyone’s benefit as she was introduced to potential guests that she wouldn’t have otherwise noticed, and they received a substantial finders fee.
The whole process was expensive, but she had invested her substantial inheritance wisely, and money was not an issue.
Given the cost, she was happy to leave the details of these collections up to her associates. From her side, she was sure to leave no pattern to the location of her victims – they were always taken from widely differing locations, and even different countries, although this was always considerably more expensive, and reserved only for exceptional targets.
The advent of the internet had made her hobby significantly more interesting, and with the rise of social media, there were an ever-increasing number of women striving for attention online, there was no shortage of potential guests.
Over the years she had had the company of many women in her basement: college students, professional athletes, online influencers, career women who were amateur athletes, single women, married women, mothers, and even one grandmother almost her own age. She counted over half a dozen nationalities, and they had all suffered terribly at her hands.
Over the course of the last 3 decades she had slowly developed a small group of extremely select friends who she would on special occasions invite around to enjoy an evening or weekend with one of her victims. These events were always highlights for all the attendees – she was known as a gracious host with exquisite taste in wine, women and pain, and invitations were seldom turned down.
She very much enjoyed the mental aspects of her torture, so when her victims first arrived she would bind their wrists to a winch and stretch them out, still wearing the clothes they were abducted in. Once they were suitably bound she would administer the drugs to rouse them, and watch as they awoke, bound and gagged in the terrifying basement.
Using the large screen, she would introduce herself, and show the new captives images of themselves over the past weeks so they knew this wasn’t some random, unplanned act, she found that the knowledge that they had been targeted and stalked never failed to send a chill down their spines.
This was followed by screening of the victim’s abduction itself – always a favorite – these scenes were infinitely better than any commercial pornography could hope to match, no acting was involved, all the struggles and screams were real as the victims fought for their lives, and any invited guests always left with an encrypted drive of the material to watch at their leisure, along with recordings and images of the upcoming sessions.
By now the victims were ordinarily extremely distressed, and to ensure that they were under no illusions of what was about to happen to them, they would be shown some highlights from previous victims - it was obvious they were now captive in the same chamber, and her latest arrival would watch with mounting horror at the torture on screen, as the hours passed, and the scenes became more extreme, it wasn’t uncommon for the captive women to soil themselves, or even throw up.
She’d had to resuscitate one particularly squeamish girl who choked on her own vomit whilst gagged, apparently unable to stand the sight of a muscular woman very similar in physical appearance to herself fisted with her own recently amputated forearm.
Once these formalities were over, it was on to whatever tortures she had planned for the specific victim – she generally had something in mind from the moment she selected them, and she would use her upmost skill to keep her victims alive for as long as possible, being sure to document their suffering in exquisite detail in recordings and high-definition images throughout every stage of their ordeal.
From her work with trauma victims she was adept at providing sustenance to incapacitated patients, and could through a combination of intravenous fluids, feeding via a nasal tube or anal suppository, give her patients all the nutrition they needed to endure what she had planned for them next. Her record for keeping a woman alive in her basement was 3 months, although by the end the woman was utterly unrecognizable, having been deliberately placed on a starvation regime for the last few weeks of her wretched existence in the basement.
Despite the care she administered, her tortures exacted a terrible toll on her victims, and even though they had arrived in prime physical condition, eventually they would succumb to their injuries, their ultimate demise always being captured in exquisite detail.
Sometimes a part of them would live on - another substantial source of income to fund her hobby was from the harvested organs of her victims – she always checked the blood type and screened for any infections when they arrived in the basement, and posted a notice to her contacts about approximately when the organs would be available. Organs from clean living, young international level athletes were highly sought after, and the prices paid were accordingly high.
Sometimes requests were also made for specific cuts of flesh from the women, she tried to accommodate where possible, the large fridges and freezers housing her drugs and the liquid foods she used to keep her victims alive often performing double duty as a meat locker until the packages could be claimed or discretely shipped.
Any remaining offal or flesh was ground - her 3 large German Shepherd dogs had acquired quite the taste for the mince, whenever they visited the veterinarian for their shots, he was amazed at how shiny there coats always were.
She tried to time the arrival of her victims with her holidays from work, and planning her schedule either side to allow her to spend the maximum amount of time with her unwilling guests. As she approached retirement, she had been able be more selective about her working hours which was a perk of growing older that she greatly valued.
It didn’t always work, and sometimes her victims arrived at inconvenient times and would have to endure prolonged periods of confinement while she was away.
What this did mean however that sometimes she would go for months without a new toy to entertain her. During these periods she would often go down to space with only the sound of the fridges and air conditioning running and watch the recordings of her sessions on the large screen. Her records of her victims were meticulously organized so she could quickly find any session or procedure from any of her victims over the years.
She often lamented the resolution of her earliest sessions – she’d always bought the highest resolution equipment available, but digital technologies were still in their infancy nearly 30 years ago when her first victim had been strapped to her operating table, so long ago that that first oil drum in her pond had long since rusted away.
She would sit in one of the rich leather chairs, a bottle of wine within easy reach, and browse through the folders, enjoying replaying the footage that had been captured in the very chamber in which she sat, savoring as the screams of the women who she had so mercilessly tortured once again echoed around the walls.
To be continued..
She often stared at herself in the full length mirror of her bathroom, she had always taken good care of her body, but the years had started to take their toll.. She wasn’t fighting it – she was aging gracefully, her eyes and hands just as sharp and steady as they always had been.
She looked at the face staring back at her. She was a monster, and she knew it - the things that she did to other women were utterly unconscionable, but as she pushed her cart around the grocery store nobody would guess that her hobby was torturing and mutilating beautiful women for her own sexual gratification.
She didn’t target a specific race, age or hair color, but her lifelong kink was for for athletic women. She loved the visual spectacle of their bodies – the sculptured lines and subtle bulges of their muscles, but she also appreciated their psychological toughness and motivation that was needed to maintain their bodies in peak physical condition. She knew that the women she targeted valued their physical health and appreciated the amazing things their body was capable of, and she enjoyed this because she delighted in forcefully taking all of that away from them - the psychological torture of being held captive, and having their basic freedoms stripped away from gave her the most wonderful feeling of control over her victims.
Her tortures were far from the superficial ones one some of the websites she occasionally browsed, where the marks would quickly fade from the victim’s body. Her tortures were more permanent in their nature, often significantly modifying her victims’ bodies as a part of the process. A significant part of her pleasure in this was seeing how these women processed the damage that was being inflicted on their were doing to their bodies, and realizing that even if they could somehow escape the nightmare they found themselves in, their lives would never be the same.
Watching the gradual understanding that they may would never again be able to walk, or swim in the ocean or feel a mountain breeze on their face was every bit as enjoyable as the physical torture she so expertly administered.
Before she got fully underway with the more extreme procedures, she loved exploring their bodies and getting to know them intimately, feeling the strength in their muscles, tracing the lines of their tendons. When she got a new arrival, she would just often examine and massage their lithe limbs for hours, causing an extraordinary amount of pain as her strong fingers dug deeply into their flesh.
She would tie them in exposed positions that allowed her to delve deeply into their anatomy, particularly their genitals. A favorite position was to spread their muscular legs, and probe deeply into their most intimate areas – fingers, tools and tongues were used to explore their vagina, cervix, anus and uterus – urethral torture was something she had begun to enjoy immensely as well, sometimes she would suspend her victim by the ankles to add an extra dimension of helplessness while she intimately surveyed their bodies.
She would also spread their jaws and explore their mouths and throats, testing their gag reflexes and toying with a dental drill on their teeth although she seldom inflicted any real harm as she liked her victims faces to remain unspoiled as much as possible throughout the process.
She loved breathplay in all it’s forms, from the desperate heaving breaths that a simple bag placed over the head could quickly produce, to the almost silent convulsing of a hanging. One of her particular favorite procedures to put her victims through was to put them on a ventilator while they were still conscious. It had been inspired by her time spent helping out in her hospital’s ICU during the pandemic, and she had worked out the right cocktail of drugs to keep her patients’ hearts beating, whilst incapacitating the rest of their muscles, leaving them fully conscious but utterly helpless.
She would inject the cocktail of drugs, including some directly into their diaphragms, and then bind their unresisting bodies to the operating tables. She would then intubate them, forcing the laryngoscope deep into their windpipes, past their vocal chords, and leaving behind the flexible tube that would allow the ventilator to pump the air into their lungs, taking away even the usually unconscious freedom of breathing from the hapless victim.
The procedure itself was deeply unpleasant – in hospitals the patient was normally under a general anesthetic before being placed on a ventilator, having an object inserted deep down their throats and being unable to force it out was always utterly terrifying for her victims, especially tighty bound and unable to move their limbs, their eyes streamed tears as they desperately sought some mercy from the woman who now held their life in her hands.
To add to this already nightmarish scenario, she would often manipulate the oxygen levels provided by the ventilator, dropping the oxygen levels in their blood dangerously low and giving them the sensation of being endlessly suffocated while she continued with whatever other torments she had planned.
There were plenty of other medical procedures we was familiar with that she could use to humiliate, incapacitate and generally terrorize the women in her basement them if she chose to - she could extend the breathplay even further with a procedure called a phrenicotomy, which would paralyze their diaphragms and render them permanently dependent on a ventilator.. She could undertake a gastrostomy to allow them to be fed directly with a tube, and an ileostomy to deal with their solid waste, a a transurethral sphincterotomy and catheter to deal with their urine.. Often just describing these procedures to the helplessly bound women would send them in to fits of panic – it was rare she would do these procedures as there were far more enjoyable ways to inflict misery on her captives.
She had always enjoyed sex with women - she often wished she had been born a man to truly experience the thrill of forcing her way inside woman’s body and climaxing deep inside, she had even considered gender re-assignment surgery, but had ultimately decided against it, instead embracing her feminine side, and using her knowledge of her own body and it’s likes and dislikes, coupled with her anatomical expertise to intimately connect with her victims.
She didn’t handle and of the “collection” of her victims as she described it. She had a network of contacts both domestically and overseas with whom she dealt. None of them had ever met her in person, everything being arranged via the dark web. Once the contract was agreed and money exchanged, after several days (depending on the location of the collection) she would receive a location where she would find a vehicle left somewhere with the keys in which she would collect and drive away. Inside the vehicle would be her victim, heavily sedated and inescapably bound, along with a flash drive of any images or videos taken during her capture or the process leading up to it.
In the early days she had selected all her victims personally but during recent years, her contacts had started to suggest potential targets they thought she might enjoy – this was to everyone’s benefit as she was introduced to potential guests that she wouldn’t have otherwise noticed, and they received a substantial finders fee.
The whole process was expensive, but she had invested her substantial inheritance wisely, and money was not an issue.
Given the cost, she was happy to leave the details of these collections up to her associates. From her side, she was sure to leave no pattern to the location of her victims – they were always taken from widely differing locations, and even different countries, although this was always considerably more expensive, and reserved only for exceptional targets.
The advent of the internet had made her hobby significantly more interesting, and with the rise of social media, there were an ever-increasing number of women striving for attention online, there was no shortage of potential guests.
Over the years she had had the company of many women in her basement: college students, professional athletes, online influencers, career women who were amateur athletes, single women, married women, mothers, and even one grandmother almost her own age. She counted over half a dozen nationalities, and they had all suffered terribly at her hands.
Over the course of the last 3 decades she had slowly developed a small group of extremely select friends who she would on special occasions invite around to enjoy an evening or weekend with one of her victims. These events were always highlights for all the attendees – she was known as a gracious host with exquisite taste in wine, women and pain, and invitations were seldom turned down.
She very much enjoyed the mental aspects of her torture, so when her victims first arrived she would bind their wrists to a winch and stretch them out, still wearing the clothes they were abducted in. Once they were suitably bound she would administer the drugs to rouse them, and watch as they awoke, bound and gagged in the terrifying basement.
Using the large screen, she would introduce herself, and show the new captives images of themselves over the past weeks so they knew this wasn’t some random, unplanned act, she found that the knowledge that they had been targeted and stalked never failed to send a chill down their spines.
This was followed by screening of the victim’s abduction itself – always a favorite – these scenes were infinitely better than any commercial pornography could hope to match, no acting was involved, all the struggles and screams were real as the victims fought for their lives, and any invited guests always left with an encrypted drive of the material to watch at their leisure, along with recordings and images of the upcoming sessions.
By now the victims were ordinarily extremely distressed, and to ensure that they were under no illusions of what was about to happen to them, they would be shown some highlights from previous victims - it was obvious they were now captive in the same chamber, and her latest arrival would watch with mounting horror at the torture on screen, as the hours passed, and the scenes became more extreme, it wasn’t uncommon for the captive women to soil themselves, or even throw up.
She’d had to resuscitate one particularly squeamish girl who choked on her own vomit whilst gagged, apparently unable to stand the sight of a muscular woman very similar in physical appearance to herself fisted with her own recently amputated forearm.
Once these formalities were over, it was on to whatever tortures she had planned for the specific victim – she generally had something in mind from the moment she selected them, and she would use her upmost skill to keep her victims alive for as long as possible, being sure to document their suffering in exquisite detail in recordings and high-definition images throughout every stage of their ordeal.
From her work with trauma victims she was adept at providing sustenance to incapacitated patients, and could through a combination of intravenous fluids, feeding via a nasal tube or anal suppository, give her patients all the nutrition they needed to endure what she had planned for them next. Her record for keeping a woman alive in her basement was 3 months, although by the end the woman was utterly unrecognizable, having been deliberately placed on a starvation regime for the last few weeks of her wretched existence in the basement.
Despite the care she administered, her tortures exacted a terrible toll on her victims, and even though they had arrived in prime physical condition, eventually they would succumb to their injuries, their ultimate demise always being captured in exquisite detail.
Sometimes a part of them would live on - another substantial source of income to fund her hobby was from the harvested organs of her victims – she always checked the blood type and screened for any infections when they arrived in the basement, and posted a notice to her contacts about approximately when the organs would be available. Organs from clean living, young international level athletes were highly sought after, and the prices paid were accordingly high.
Sometimes requests were also made for specific cuts of flesh from the women, she tried to accommodate where possible, the large fridges and freezers housing her drugs and the liquid foods she used to keep her victims alive often performing double duty as a meat locker until the packages could be claimed or discretely shipped.
Any remaining offal or flesh was ground - her 3 large German Shepherd dogs had acquired quite the taste for the mince, whenever they visited the veterinarian for their shots, he was amazed at how shiny there coats always were.
She tried to time the arrival of her victims with her holidays from work, and planning her schedule either side to allow her to spend the maximum amount of time with her unwilling guests. As she approached retirement, she had been able be more selective about her working hours which was a perk of growing older that she greatly valued.
It didn’t always work, and sometimes her victims arrived at inconvenient times and would have to endure prolonged periods of confinement while she was away.
What this did mean however that sometimes she would go for months without a new toy to entertain her. During these periods she would often go down to space with only the sound of the fridges and air conditioning running and watch the recordings of her sessions on the large screen. Her records of her victims were meticulously organized so she could quickly find any session or procedure from any of her victims over the years.
She often lamented the resolution of her earliest sessions – she’d always bought the highest resolution equipment available, but digital technologies were still in their infancy nearly 30 years ago when her first victim had been strapped to her operating table, so long ago that that first oil drum in her pond had long since rusted away.
She would sit in one of the rich leather chairs, a bottle of wine within easy reach, and browse through the folders, enjoying replaying the footage that had been captured in the very chamber in which she sat, savoring as the screams of the women who she had so mercilessly tortured once again echoed around the walls.
To be continued..
Re: Athletic GIMPs
Here is a preview of a recent custom I got from Torvea Films, starring "Little Buff Blondie". She is in amazing shape (believe she was a fitness model before) which is great for t0rture
- Attachments
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Re: Athletic GIMPs
Lovely Mav, thanks for sharing. I've contacted them about a potential custom as they do seem to have some lovely athletic models..
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skullchaser
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Re: Athletic GIMPs
Good story. You should check out my medical experiment videos over at Cruel World, particularly "A Very Strange Dream".Ganemede wrote: ↑Wed Mar 29, 2023 7:58 am Been a while, but I’ve been working on another story – the first two parts set the scene for other stories will follow in due course, I hope you enjoy.
It is towards the more extreme end of the material on this site – if you’re not a fan of body modification / unhappy endings perhaps avoid, other suggestions of where to post welcome.
Feedback is appreciated, if you have any suggested victims for the surgeon, that would be fun.
The Surgeon: A story by Ganemede
http://deadsexyclips.com/0001134/a%20ve ... p-704.html
Also, "Preparing for Surgery" group. http://deadsexyclips.com/0001134/advanc ... y&x=18&y=9
Re: Athletic GIMPs
She not only love to show her body in sexy outfit on the stadium, but she also love to be tortured and fucked on public! She is exhibitionist and looks like love being gimp.
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- dsc00509.jpg (66.72 KiB) Viewed 10195 times
Re: Athletic GIMPs
She love to wear sexy outfits presenting her body to the public. Not like two other girls.
Or even presenting her completely naked and helpless body to the public:
One naked famous runner coming up:
Re: Athletic GIMPs
Awesome, thanks for those Vladdt, she doesn't seem to mind flaunting her nice tight body in some equally tight ropes , wish there were more athletes out there who were so obliging..
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