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[Author’s note: Part two of a story. Fiction, 100%, not for minors. Have fun, and all feedback is appreciated.... Nathan]
Banded--The Extraction Machine, Part 2 Kristy McFleeters was still in shock, and her entire life was coming apart. Ever since the trial had ended yesterday and that bastard had gotten off “scott-free,” she had been absolutely devastated. He had actually raped her, and gotten away with hit! Michael had been so slick on the witness stand, denying everything, saying that she had wanted it, asked for it, even begged for it. AND THEY HAD BELIEVED HIM! She had called in from work today, and she would certainly call in sick again tomorrow. There was simply no justice in the world anymore, and even the morning’s paper had mocked her: “Yesterday Michael Stanford was found not guilty of sexual battery that had been alleged to have occurred last summer. The jury was not convinced that a rape in fact even occurred, believing instead the defenses allegations that the victim, a Kristy McFleeters, simply made up the story after having second thoughts after a night of consensual sex. She is a divorced waitress working at the Blue Cavern Truck Stop, and apparently from the evidence presented was simply trying to take advantage of the Standford name. The 22 year old Michael Stanford is the son and heir to the empire created by his father, one of the wealthiest men in North America. Miss McFleeters refused to talk with any reporters, and Mr Stanford could not be reached by telephone so no comments from either of them are currently available.” God, she hated reporters. The day had been horrible...and she hadn’t eaten lunch or dinner. The television had not interested her, and even if it was approaching 930 at night, she just didn’t feel like sleeping. Damn, she had to get her mind onto something else! She got up from her bed, and moving to her desk, she clicked on her computer. She had 11 email messages waiting in her inbox, and she scanned the titles and looked through the senders. More than half of the emails were advertisements, and she quickly deleted them unopened. Of the four remaining emails, three were from friends, and she just wasn’t up to answering them right now. The one exception stopped her cold. The email, marked URGENT, sat with its icon flashing and a cold chill ran down her spine, the subject line cutting into her very soul as she stared at the email and struggled internally with what to do with it. SUBJECT: Revenge for MS—Private FROM: The Organization She had a standing policy to delete any emails, unopened, from anyone she didn’t know. The virus danger was just too great these days. But this...this one seemed different...and although it made her nervous the subject had her heart racing. Slowly, deliberately, and with a great deal of trepidation, she moved her mouse over the flashing email icon, hesitated, and then clicked the OPEN button. As the email opened and she started to read, her breathing quickened and her heart began to pound. SUBJECT: Revenge for MS—Private FROM: The Organization PRIVATE MESSAGE FOR KRISTY MCFLEETERS—URGENT The organization understands your pain. Relief can be found at: https://www.MS.org/F938X097-76D302R185960X Access to this website is restricted. Your access is free. Your key code #1 is your mother’s maiden name, spelled backwards in all small letters. Your key code#2 is your driver’s license number. Do not save the website address under any circumstance. Type it in exactly as written. Show this note to no one, and destroy it no later than 630am the day after tomorrow. She was shaking. What the hell was this? Holding the email, she glanced around the room, which suddenly felt much colder than it did just a few minutes before. She rose, and turned up the thermostat, then went to the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of red wine. Then, returning to her computer, she set down at her keyboard and keyed in the address. In her nervousness, she mistyped it and got a “Page Not Found” error, but she fixed the mistake and suddenly she was staring at a page that had nothing on it at all, but two blanks: ENTER KEYCODE#1__________________________ ENTER KEYCODE#2__________________________ Slowly, she typed in her mom’s maiden name, carefully spelling it backwards: rellim Next, she opened her purse, and then entered her driver’s license number exactly as it was written. As she clicked the ENTER button she was prepared for just about anything, and figured that the odds were better than 50/50 that this was some kind of cruel joke. But what appeared on the screen was far different than anything she had been imagining, and her eyes were drawn to the screen and her mouth opened with a gasp... The website was a projection of what appered to be live webcam images, and at the top above them were these words: LIVE STREAMING VIDEO OF PUNISHMENT CYCLE FOR RAPIST MICHAEL STANFORD, NOW IN THE 15TH HOUR OF PUNISHMENT. TIME LEFT IN PUNISHMENT PROTOCOL: 33:25:29 Oh my GOD! It was HIM! It was...and as she watched she could see him, tied up in an almost perverse way, laying there...his eyes staring into the one cam image, his mouth stuffed with some kind of ball, and a clear tube that appeared to be running into it. She could see him blinking, then a small struggle, and then again he was just laying there. She could actually hear him breathing from her computer speakers! Huh? His face was crystal clear, and he looked anything but happy. Underneath the image, was a caption, and it said: Face of Michael Stanford. ------------------------ Tube located in his mouth is there to provide self feeding of any seminal fluids ejaculated during punishment protocol Her eyes, squinted at the screen, then went wide open as she comprehended what she was reading. What the hell? Then, she moved to the second image, which also was crystal clear. It was taken from below the man...and it showed him clearly trussed out and tied into what looked like a metallic cage. He was obviously stark naked, and she could see his chests, his nipples, and his chin. Even that tattoo was visible on his upper arm. His arms appeared to be stretched out in front of him, and they disappeared off camera. She could see that something was encasing his penis, and while it appeared to be made out of a clear plastic, the image on the webcam wasn’t clear enough to make out his cock inside of it. However, the form of his manhood was visible and she shuddered when she saw it. She stared. It definitely appeared to have some wires and things protruding out of that area of his body, and she was wondering what it might mean when her eyes caught the caption under the image: Encased Penis Shaft of Michael Stanford --------------------------------------- The plastic tube encasing Mr Stanford is attached to a modified cattle semen extraction machine. Any fluids collected during the punishment protocol will be re-deposited back into his body through the oral tube connected to his mouth gag visible in webcam image #1. She stared. Looked. Thought. Wow. And slowly, very slowly, for the first time since the trial had ended, a small smile began to creep across her face and she allowed herself that first feelings that everything might work out after all. What the hell was this website anyway? It sure didn’t look like a joke, and with the sounds coming in from the speakers it definitely appeared to be a live broadcast. She began to grow excited....who had done this? Could it really be real? But, it was the third and final image that fascinated her the most. It was obviously taken from behind him, and was pointed directly at his ass, the ends of a huge metal probe clearly sticking out of his asshole, his big legs spread out naked and wide, every hair on his thighs visible and clear. And then there were his balls...oh GOD,...if they were a man’s balls something was terribly wrong with them! They seemed to be somewhat swollen, and their color was bright red and intense. What the hell? She leaned closer to the screen, staring at the mans testicles, and that’s when she could see something green that appeared to be tightly wrapped around them, pushing them downward like small plums ripe for the plucking, and drawing them closed at the top like someone would cinch closed a sack of marbles. The caption below the webcam image was marked: Banded Testicles of Michael Standford ------------------------------------- Note elastic chord around testicular mass...which is continuously retracted during punishment protocol, restricting testicular blood supply and resulting in non-voluntary castration of the subject. My God...he was being banded....literally castrated as she watched! From the color of his balls she could tell he had been there a while, and my God...no wonder his face looked like it was flushed in pain! Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, and her breathing had intensified and she found herself excited to a depth she did not fully understand. Just then, the large clock displayed on the website changed to 33:20:00 and out of her computer speakers she began to hear a humming sound. On the screens, Michael Standford was suddenly going ballistic...almost in a panic. He was struggling like there was no tomorrow...his eyes were wide open in fear, and he looked crazed, almost panicked. He was suddenly grunting loudly from the gag, and she could tell he appeared to be struggling in desperation. Something was definitely happening! The sheath encasing his penis was pulsating rapidly, and she could see that it was moving in and out, while at the same time something internally seemed to be moving back and forth over his manhood. He was thrusting in his bonds....the man’s hips driving into the machine and thrusting like he was trying to fuck something, only there was nothing below him and instead he just appeared to be wilding driving his penis in and out of the little sheath that was encasing it. On the website, under the clock, there were little lines of type that were printing out as she watched, one under the other, scrolling by explaining everything that was happening as it was taking place. She watched, fascinated, as the main in the apparatus struggled like a trapped animal, thrusting like some bull chasing a female in heat. Under the clock, the lines of type kept appearing: Semen extraction protocol initiated Penal shaft manipulation initiated
Then, there was an electrical sound, almost like a sparking or zapping sound, and with it his eyes flew open and he was grunting wildly into the gag. UGGGGGGGGG UMP UGH UOOOOOO. ARGHHH. His hips started to buck uncontrollably, and the line on her screen printed: Electrical prostate stimulation initiated He was screaming now...literally screaming into his gag...in obvious pain and now struggling with abandon. His hips were slamming into the machine, bucking hard and fast, almost like they were being driven by a pile driver instead of a human being. He was rocking the cage he was strapped to, and as he grunted and thrust she could see some clear liquid running up the tube that was attached to the end of his penis, his ass muscles literally quivering with his ejaculation forcing the metal probe in his ass to wiggle in and out and in and out. Ejaculation detected Semen extraction detected Semen returned to male through oral feeding tube Semen extraction continuing Semen extraction continuing Semen returned to male through oral feeding tube Semen extraction protocol completed: .46 cc collected Suddenly the humming stopped, and yet he seemed to be still struggling like a crazy man, trying to escape. He was jerking his legs inwards, almost like he was trying to protect his balls. Testicular constriction banding retraction sequence initiated As she watched the monitor that was pointing directly at his balls, she saw the machine begin to retrack the elastic cord that was encircling his testicles. It seemed to be drawn closed in short little pulls, and with each retraction there was a clicking sound. Click and click and click---and with each click the man made a loud grunting noise. UGGG. UGGG. OHUGGGG. The little green band pulled up tighter and tighter and finally, and forevermore, it reached a point where no further retraction was really possible, and for the first and last time of his life, the blood supply that had been nurturing his testicles for the 22 years of his life was cut off completely from the rest of his body. With the final restriction came a wave of nausea and the man struggled and pumped and jerked, and then, with tears flowing down his eyes, he collapsed into his bonds and lay there defeated and once again unmoving, the pain in his testicles growing ever more intense by the minute, the green band now so tight around them that they literally bulged from the pressure. Testicular constriction banding retraction sequence completed Kristy McFleeters smiled. This was actually happening. She got up and went back to the kitchen, returning with the bottle of red wine she had opened earlier. She sat back down in front of the computer, and began to watch again. Planning for a long night of entertainment, she smiled, knowing she would be here when the sun came up in the morning.
The clock on the website showed 33:12:11, and then continuing to click down backwards as she stared.
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