by Garden Variety
All characters were more than eighteen by the time of the story. CAVEAT: Activities described herein may be hazardous to health, so please don’t try this at home!
My name is Madge and I’m a geek: Unbeknownst to anyone, a masochistic painslut, too. My angle to tell my story is, it'll help me understand myself? To describe my face and body takes only a line or two. I am a widow of twenty-nine, with an all-right face, light-brown hair, greeny-brown hazel eyes, and a good body including thirty-eight C boobs. They’ve begun to droop a little, but hold up fine in a bra.
I’m a partner in a software company, perhaps to be bought out by my partners later this year. My dead husband and I were among the co-founders of our company: I own more stock than anybody, about 21%. My three co-founders have 31% and offer me nearly a million, yet that’s low. So I didn’t take their offer. I work as a Vice-President, and my VP-salary would be lost in the shuffle. There’s a retirement-package, not all that much. So I’d lose in the long run. They have to do better. We own a search-engine patent my husband invented, that’s our main asset, not overridden by newer inventions. It’s used lots of places. What’re those guys going to do when their royalty runs out? Paul, my husband, was the creative brains in the outfit, killed himself five years ago. I never knew why.
Now to first-time punish myself, I’m self-bondaging to an unbelievable degree. I fantasize, as I enter my basement torture-chamber containing a robotics set-up, that Middle-Eastern fanatics strip me.
So, here outside the door, I take off everything and enter naked. My body is okay-to-good; tits, best? I wrench my neck around as though someone else is tying my hair to my boob-harness. It’s very tight.
I have only the normal attributes: My plain-to-attractive face, hazel eyes, brown outside, but green in this fluorescent light, my pink-nipple, better-than-average, too-large boobs, curvy, white thighs, a round butt, small belly. I designed this robot self-bondage program myself. The hardware installation was the toughest. Parts of the robot arms I had assembled by robotics experts because I’m not so hot on that.
* * *
The thugs force me into their evil contraption, I struggle as though bandits are doing this to me, in which my head and hands are immobilized. I can reach the control panel to my right, with my nose or tongue.
“Probe”, the top button on the panel, is a ten-minute program. The robot torturer-arm pokes my mouth with a small, pointed cane. It’s nasty. And other arms probe my nipples with small pointed canes, about a third-inch-thick, a centimeter. It is annoying. My large breasts get horribly probed and poked, too. I yell a little. Breasts aren’t meant for very-hard abuse! Nipples can take a little more, but are tender, too.
“Point”, the second ten-minute program, is aimed at my boobs, belly, pussy and thighs. The robot-arms stick the ends of their canes into me all over, without actually breaking my skin, only just. The clitoris-poke makes me shout. Ends of the canes are quite sharp, the amount of push is very closely-measured. My breasts are complaining at me now. My pussy is sore too. My thighs are red. My nipples. “Oww!”
Suddenly the “Beat” program starts small whacks of the cane onto my tits, nipples, pussy and thighs. I can hardly stand this continuous caning even though the blows are very light. I know when the pain shocks will end, which helps: It’s a five-minute program. Something like time at a dentist’s. I tighten my fists.
“Spank” is another five minutes of having plastic-rulers bent back an inch or two and let go, banging into my sore tits, nipples, pussy, belly, butt and thighs. My big pink nipples recoil and recover. These Arabs enjoy hurting my fluffy nipples so much! My large, fat tits bounce and jiggle painfully with each spank. There seems to be no end to my nipples, tits, butt, belly, pussy and thigh spanking! Very rough! “Oww!”
The “Whip” changes the focus to my feet, soles are wound up with a terribly-threatening whine, and held up facing the ceiling. The boob-harness hooked is to my hair, holding part of my weight. Now I am suspended by my tits, head, neck, feet and arms. Head spinning: This hanging is really bad, even my hair hurts! I can’t describe the torment of a foot-caning and whipping. It’s too much for feet to take!
First, the canes are used, only a dozen light cane-taps hitting all over the sensitive bottoms of my feet: Zinging killers all the same! Plus still stinging from the beating and spanking of my tits and pussy, etc.
A light flogging of both soles of my feet, without much thrust, only letting the strands fall! Is very bad. I scream and cry, hardly notice that my feet are, with a whining sound, lowered so I’m not suspended any longer. My feet are nearly too sore for me to stand on them. Flogs my boobs! “Aie!” I scream continuously as they hit my nipples over and over, next hitting my soft belly, butt, pussy and thighs. It isn’t even ten minutes altogether: Two minutes for whipping my narrow feet: “Ooooh!” Two minutes for whipping my fatty boobs: “Ooooh!” Another minute whipping my brown-thatched, pink pussy: “Ooooh!” One minute each whipping my full white thighs, whipping my extra-round butt, whipping my tiny belly. I try fainting: My head won’t leave? Arabs finishing me off slowly, savoring me! I see red?
* * *
[Madge’s Arabian Nightmare]
I look behind and visualize, instead of soundproofing panels, a motorized dildo-machine and skeletal robot-whipping-arms: Three terrorists in gray, white and black burnooses remove their long robes. They’re under-built in their penises, which is psychologically why they rape, torture and kill? Or perhaps they cannot interest a woman in willing sex? I know they cannot reach all the way to the back of my furry pussy. Or even halfway, to the rear of my heavily brown-furred pussy! They’re such small-dong, teeny-wienie guys! When I’m rich I’ll add a movie in sense-surround that shows these Arab torturers!
Possibly they simply prefer to have their own way! Not to ask but to take! Surely that’s better, if they’re going to live their stupid male-superiority illusion! They can afford at least a bottom-of-the-barrel whore, with the kind of oil-and-drugs money they get as contributions from their wealthy sheikh pals! Why do they abduct and torture an innocent me?
* * *
The “Orgasm” program involves a slow thrusting of a dildo connected to a motor behind me. It teasingly doesn’t intrude into my pussy very far, though the tool is seven inches long. It feels all right: I lubed it up beforehand. The bottom part slightly bumped near its front, stimulates my clitoris with each thrust and impacts my G-spot inside me, immediately before withdrawing. It’s pleasant but if most men were doing it, they’d penetrate me all the way. I am on the edge ten minutes, and barely come in time before the fifteen-minutes ends. “Argghh!” I do make it. But I like my three-orgasms-each lovemaking! Neither a man or a woman is capable of handling this requirement on any kind of regular basis!
The next menu item is “Multi,” where I am penis-gagged, ring-gagged and flogged harder from three directions at once, on the tits, the thighs and my butt. Meanwhile the dildo is thrust, again a partial and slow stroking, into my orgasm-hungry, unfulfilled pussy for the whole time, twenty minutes.
A ring-gag is quickly, scarily whirred-around in front of my eyes, pressed to my mouth, and a fake penis thrusts in and out my mouth. I can’t reach “Stop” button on the panel with my nose or tongue while this is going on, an added torture.
The flogging is very intense, since their whipping becomes harder fractionally.
My droopy fat tits bound by elastic strings that go up around my neck and are cinched-tight, attached to my hair. Squeezed into balls, whipped, too! Why’d I have to throw in a taut breast-bondage? Too much! I shudder throbbing, electric-burning as whips whack each of my swollen globes again and again.
My pussy is shocked when it’s hit and entered from opposite sides! My thighs tenderized: Already red! My butt is whipped harder than the rest of me? Oh, I know, I programmed it this way because I didn’t feel as much there, but that doesn’t lessen hurts. My bottom actually bounces up and down each swat!
I hurt as much as if it were real Arabs torturing and raping. Mumbled through gags: “Argghh!” I’m unsure… that orgasm took place before the end, by a minute. I am whipped and my medium-brown-haired hole screwed another minute. It doesn’t feel good, only whipping and rape-like thrusting-into-me pain, and no pleasure. I’ll fix that: Make the whipping and screwing stop when I’ve come?
Funny my brain is still working, even though it mostly tells me: ‘I hurt all over’, that I: ‘Should break loose’. Now the penis and the ring-gag withdraw. I can scream if I want. I move my lips, tongue.
“Clamp/Plug/Whip Again” program of a half-hour starts. I am ready to press “Stop” when I notice a ‘Reminder’ that “If this program is stopped, it will be repeated all over first, before, at the end of another hour, it will stop.” I don’t want that, would probably do me in.… exactly why I set it up this way.
I bite the bullet and let my program go on. My boob-nooses tighten even more, my neck squashes and my hair yanks tight. My boobs turn from pinkish-red to red, purple by the end. Electric-whooshing noises signal fast-projecting-out clamps snap onto my nipples, with a gradual but ever-tighter pull equal to one, two, three, four ounces of weight! I grimace down at my precious, tautly-bondaged, purplish boob-balls as they are lengthened into five-or-six-inch-long ellipses! Accompanied by tremendous pain! “Aieeeee!” I scream. Nobody’s going to hear since my dungeon is soundproofed.
Unfortunately, three more whooshing clamp-pincers pick out my pussy-lips and clitoris. Machinery snaps harshly onto both my pussy-lips, gradually-stretched by four ounces-weight equivalent! Pinches, clamps and stretches my clitoris by a half-ounce-weight equivalent! “…Aieeeee!…Aieeeee!…Aieeeee!”
While I am in torment, the dildo starts it’s very-slow, annoying, incomplete, penetration-action. The extremely gradual building stimulation helps distract me. My very-narrow, only-vibrating, anal-plug abruptly shoves in: Also a help in distracting me. I lubed it in advance. But it’s quite awful to feel that asshole-plugging instrument shaking inside me back there, where nothing should intrude!
The whipping starts again from all three directions while I screw, stretch and anally-vibrate! I start to black out, but gray-out only fleetingly, forcing myself I manage to hang in there: Whip-strokes are much harder: “Aieeeee!” But they’re only light floggers. I thought about making them heavier, but it’s a good thing I didn’t: I feel every single stroke sting and ripple right now, like they were real cats-of-nine-tails!
The stretching couldn’t be worse. My sore thighs and my hot butt are but passing annoyances. I throb with the coarse boob-pain and my pussy is fighting against the very-slowly-building dildo-exciting-pleasure with contradictory continuous hellish-pain-zap messages: “Argghh!” Pleasure messages won!
Now I wish it would all stop, but it seems there’s a minute left of the zapping, clamp-stretched whipping.
If I come into big money, I’d add a retractable-horse pussy-torture device that’ll rise out of the floor when I’m suspended. It’d take my weight off my wrists, ankles, hair and tits. Afterwards be withdrawn? My pussy tingles happily while it hurts too, at the thought of this additional torture!
I feel every whip-stroke, though there’s only ten strokes left after my third orgasm: I’ve got to eliminate the after-orgasm extra-time from my selfbondage programs! Perhaps add a camera to record my sufferings? So when I’m too lazy to do my work-out, I can get off by watching my past ordeals!
The program ends. There is a returning-circulation sizzle in my breasts and pussy! My pain continues for several minutes. “Owwww!” I bow to my invisible Arab bandits. I get out of my breast-harness: It feels like it belongs, it’s become a part of me. Tight red string-marks remain to show where it was. More sizzling of returning-circulation, this time not just my nipples, clit and pussy, but all over both my entire big round boobs! “Uhhhhhh!” My hair and my neck, disentangled. I flex my wrists and ankles. My feet and my thighs are red. I look at my bright-red fat butt in the mirror. It looks smaller? I feel wrung-out, tired but for once completely-satisfied. I think it works!
“I feel like I sold my soul to the devil.”
“Nonsense my dear” says Madge, “You’ve successfully interviewed for a job. Now if you’ll take off your blouse and bra? Show me you’re honest…”
“No, I don’t think I can.”
Madge says, impatient, “C’mon, Barb baby, it’s only us girls here.”
I slowly unbutton and think ‘If I’d stayed married, this wouldn’t be happening. Or if I’d tried to take Jon for everything he had. Instead of being Ms. Nice Gal. But no. I agreed to an even split and put it in trust. Now I’m broke and have to go back to work with no real work skills. Except I still have the world’s best body, blonde hair and big boobs.’
To describe myself: Twenty year old blonde, with a 36D-21-36 figure. I only type about twenty-five words a minute. I’m lousy at steno. Madge is a rich lady who doesn’t care about my deficiencies. She says I’m very good for her purposes, I’ll make big money as a ‘bondage painslut’! Yes, she said exactly that, that I’ll be tied, whipped and punished regularly, a lot more than if I take dictation. I have my blouse off. Madge is tapping a small yellow stick on her desk. Oh, God… It’s a kind of cane?
“Your bra, slut!” she hollers. “Nobody can hear. This place is soundproofed.”
My bulging hooters already show off, more than I’d like. But I reach behind with a blush, unhook: Freeing nice round tits with wide, reddish aureoles and large red nipples. The air is cool. I’m a little embarrassed to display them out in the open in an office. Did I say enormous? Well, they are sort of huge naturals. I start to stand so I can remove my skirt and my panties.
“Don’t get up. I want to tell you what you’ll get first. Stop your strip!” Madge shouts.
Of course I do stop and cover myself with my arms automatically.
“No! There’ll be a punishment for covering up! Never cover yourself. Now wait until I come back.”
I put my arms down and look at myself. I’m uncomfortable out in the office half-naked. Madge told me she sold her share of a company and doesn’t work anymore. You wouldn’t know she’s wealthy, except that looks like a new computer and printer she’s got. She told me to wear my oldest clothes here. This top and bra go way back. I wore this outfit once or twice when I drove long-distance so I can spill coffee on it. The shorts are pretty bad too, actual cut-off cut-offs.
A voice comes over a microphone, from the ceiling?
“Put the rest of your clothes and the tops you took off in the iron pail outside the door, returning naked to your chair.”
I find this strange because if I don’t have clothes, how’ll I get home? My bras are dear, too. It’s my size. Salesgirls must be jealous, they’re always smiling and smarting-off remarks, like, “Are those company?” I take off the skirt, my panties and shoes. My pussy is hairy. I didn’t shave it. A girlfriend says it itches until it grows out! I‘ve a tiny belly. …Could exercise more? I put all my clothes in a kind of black-metal cauldron outside the door. I didn’t include my shoes. They’re only tennies, but I’m used to them. My foot size – five – is small and hard to get. I slip my teeny sneaks under my chair, hidden.
I’m naked now and there’s a mirror nearly opposite. Shows how good-looking I am. I pat my curly yellow hair into place. Never needs much fixing! I always look really good. It’s a combination of my height – I’m five-foot-six, and my bosom with my blonde hair. I’m called ‘a knockout’ or ‘a dreamboat.’
I smell burning – I have an inkling it’s my clothes! How horrible! Well, Madge said it would be bad, but that I was qualified. There’s a cash bonus for every tit-or-pussy-whipping I take. If I’m marked or bruised I make more money…
“Come out of that room into the next door on your left.” Madge’s disembodied voice says.
When I step naked out into her hall, I see burnt remnants of my clothes smoking in the smelly black pot!
I go down the hall into another room, where Madge is waiting. She says she’s going to measure me and spends a lot of time on my bosom. It’s oversize, as I said.
Madge feels me while she’s measuring! “36…” Now she’s playing with some cold-feeling clay and says after peeling the horrid stuff back off my slightly-slimy tits, “More than a full D-cup!” I must have gained a couple of pounds, weight always goes to my tits! Madge is fitting a half-bra, ‘it’s an E-cup’ she says, firming it around my boobs, it seems all right but roomy. “36…” She’s musing. Snaps the hook. It is actually a better fit than my 36D. My cleavage is deeper …like a mile! Madge smooths the bra over, thrilling me by touching my nipples, unhooks and puts down the half-cup bra, says, [tapping her yellow wooden wand] “I think what I’d like to do now is to whip you.”
"Oh, no, please," I holler, but she grabs me by my nipples! "Oh, it hurts!"
Shakes me saying, “You are mine, you little jerk! The sooner you know that, the better! Now get over there under that trapeze bar.”
I drop my protesting hands from her wrists. This is going to be very hurtful… like a dentist? I walk over: I am so scared and with my tits stinging, I do what she says, which is to put my hands up in the air.
She attaches me by my wrists to a swinging gym-thing like acrobats use. A bar spreading my legs is shackled to my ankles and is roped to the floor by a hole in its center. I feel air on my spread sex!
Madge asks, “Would you like to be gagged?”
I say, "No, I’ll try to keep quiet." After all, I did know this bondage and torture were part of my job.
Madge starts rubbing very slightly and teasingly around my nipples with the small cane. It has a sharp point on the end. “Owww!” Stuck in the nipple. It is bad.
“Owww!” Madge is tickling around my very large fat boobs and abruptly sticks me! “Owwww!”
Suddenly she puts her cane down and picks up a multi-strand black whip. The strands are thin and light. But when she flicks it – it really hurts my tits. Both nipples first stuck and now each is lightly-whipped!
“Count each stroke and say ‘Thank you Mistress’," Madge orders.
I do, the pain is outrageous: Always on my nipples, which have swollen. For some reason I am crying, long before she reaches ten. “Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!“ My pink nipples never were roughed-up before, only a little too-tight squeezing or a teasing near-bite?
Next she starts hitting my rounded white thighs, “Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!” “Owww!” Five on the front, inner and back of each. “Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!” “Owww!”
Underhand, Madge swings at my center, staring in my eyes…My dark-yellow-furred pussy…“Owwwww!” – Thudding into me awesomely-hard for ten strokes I feel to the top of my head! “Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!” My tears are rolling down now. No-one should hit a girl there! It’s too sensitive! I keep my mouth shut…
My boobs are harnessed: Madge is tying some kind of black elastic strings, looped tight as they can go around my imprisoned tits. Tits stand up very straight and point exactly forward. Far more-horizontal than usual. My enormous breasts’ rope-network is tied to my yellow hair-end in the back. It pulls my head back slightly so I’m facing the ceiling. I would normally complain because my breasts pain awfully.
Madge says with irony, “Don’t go away.”
She leaves me alone to worry what’s next. I’m only a half-hour into my job and I already want to quit.
Madge comes back in and waves two small stacks of cash. Says I have made this much so far, but do I want to make even more? With evil, devilish smile.
“What do I have to do?” I ask as frightened as I’ve ever been. She says she’ll let me try her robotics set-up: She’s wrote the whole program herself: Hasn’t tried it out again, since she de-bugged it. I try only a half-portion as a ‘newbie.’
I say “Tell me exactly how long it’ll be and whether it’s much worse than what I took so far.”
“It’s right around a half-day and while some of it is worse, it isn’t much worse: There are good parts.”
What can be good about a torture session? I think of the money. “How much more cash?”
"As much as you made so far," she says, grinning, showing me two hundreds and two fifties. Six hundred altogether pays my rent for this month. With only one day’s work, if that.
“I’ll do it, Mistress!”
Madge leans toward me and kisses me, fully, slowly, on the lips! A shock! I’m not that way! She takes off her blouse and bra and touches her boobs to mine. A kind of electric shock jumps between our nipples. I notice her tits started to droop a bit. They still look pretty good, are in the C-cup area, a nice set. I’ve never envied a girl in the boob area, I am lucky to have gotten the big ones, with red nipples surrounded by wide reddish rings. She tweaks each of my aching tits, and undoes my hands, legs and takes the spreader-bar away to lean it against the side wall.
“Another door for you, my Slut.”
I want to cry again. It’s rotten to be called a slut! It’s truer to say I am ‘okay’. I possess more face and body than most girls. So, a few times I offered myself to lovers, bosses.
* * *
Madge has prepared an earthen grave with a coffin imbedded in it for Barb. Barb smells the rich earth aroma entering. Most of room is taken up by the grave set-up in middle. Madge goes back out and puts a virtual-reality headpiece on Barb. The naked blonde’s given a large capsule, a glass of water.
“What’s in it? …Mistress?”
“It’s to relax you.”
That’s so, but it’s also what is known as a hypnotic.
The girl soon swoons. Madge catches, lies her in the coffin, where from a video projected into the VR headpiece, Barb dreams of women stroking and men raping her. Mistress does all the touching herself.
In the video, three packers come to Barb’s house to put her belongings together for moving to Madge’s. All three are Mexican. The dark girls are interested in Barb sexually, although they are all healthily full-figured brunettes. They disrobe to show vaguely-Asian eyes, broad-cheekbone faces, big boobs with fleshy large dark nipples and very-prominent pussies. Their bottoms and thighs can be lots trimmer.
Barbs orgasms again and again under their [Madge’s] ministrations. The packing-women are married to moving men, also Hispanic, and resembling Bluto of Popeye cartoons: Bearded, all three different sizes: small, medium and large with matching peters. Madge is juggling dildos to fit the dream-men. All are double-dildos, so she gets to come three times on top of groaning-moaning Barb! Then she closes the coffin. Trowels a small layer of dirt over all of the top except a breathing-hole. Madge goes away when she hears scratching and yelling from inside! The video’s first-person burial-sequence is terrorizing!
[Barb’s point of view]
Three women, all Hispanic-looking, come to my place, saying they are from the moving company and will be packing.
The smallest one laughs and says their husbands will be here to move me! A joke?
I’m not sure what happened next. The largest woman, with a pitted face and muscular body, is helping me off with my clothes. She’s rubbing my bra-cups; I sort of like it, she’s caressing my wide reddish aureoles my large red nipples erect. Middle-sized woman hangs my bra out by the road …as a flag? My panties, too, put on a low tree-branch, where passing cars see them! Why? I’m naked and my breasts attract largest lady’s special attention, saying she ‘wears an E bra’ but I’m ‘a lot smaller’. My new lover remarks in Spanish pointing, flicking both of them: It hurts a little? Next, she’s eating my pussy! I don’t know how… I feel her rough facial skin as she whirls her head between my legs. Her rough worker’s hands grasp my big thighs tightly, thumbs at my tender inner-thighs.
[Madge put Calamine Lotion on Barb's face and hands thickly. It’s scratching Barb’s thighs!].
I’m going to climax against my will! “Argghh!“
The second woman is the small one who jokes, “I hope my shirt and chain-belt don’t scratch, pretty lady?” She has a glass or plastic-imbedded shirt with mirrors on it. It does scratch my boobs, my belly and when she sits up on me to make me eat her pussy, the belt on the bottom, scratches my nipples.
[Madge has had this outré shirt a long time, but doesn’t wear it much because it has to be dry-cleaned.]
“Argghh! “ That was the littlest one coming!
The medium one at least is naked except a cell-phone holster-belt, which she keeps on, even though it’s in the way of both our double-dildoing: Moves her cell-phone holster-belt up to around her pear-shaped breasts with dark-brown, fairly-large nipples. Her cell phone is moving deep in my cleavage. It’s vibrating most-unpleasantly, at the same time the girl is kissing my mouth, really making-out with me, as powerfully as possible, fills my mouth jamming in her long tongue and hot lips with a weird, spicy taste … chile? Thinks sucking-out-ears is sexy? Yuck! Continues licking and sucking, biting even, my neck and the upper part of my boobs. Next that ridiculous cell-phone belt is on my tits! Rough, tough scraping! She’s also pumping in and out and we orgasm at the pretty-much the same time. “Argghh! “ “Argghh!”
Suddenly their three men are here and I’m in a grave for some reason? It’s real scary and smelly, in a coffin with my arms pulled up behind my head. The largest of the guys is screwing me in the coffin with my legs out over the edge on either side. My pussy opened wide: My belly, tits seem to be on a menu.
“I’m not comfy!”
“You’re not supposed to be!”
He comes horribly inside me.
Biggest guy is the husband of the little jokey one? She’s laughing, her arm around him. I don’t know why: Pushes his butt down, he’s screwed more into me. He’s big enough that he is hitting the rear of my pussy and bouncing back!
The middle one is sitting with his dong in my face and I suck it off. “Aaaack!”
The smallest of the guys is turning me and taking me from the rear. The big guy unties my wrists and after the others turn me upside-down, holds them down at the upper end of my grave. The medium-sized fellow I blew, is helping the little guy turn me around. The biggest woman belongs to the smallest of the men! Makes another Spanish remark, poking my blonde bush. It isn’t as light as my head hair but that may not be it? She is lifting him up to the coffin, and even guides his dick into my pussy, opening me up and pushing his cock in, with a big grin! They’re all laughing as he fucks me to our orgasms, this time he is behind me by several minutes. I have trouble breathing with my face down in the dirt and have to turn my face sideways… I hurry to climax, make myself excited by thinking of my ex! “Argghh!”
They seem to leave me alone. It’s all dark and I’m buried. For some reason, I’m alive! I scream and claw at the coffin. I shake from side to side! My boobs complain at their hard-bouncing. A little dirt moves on the top? It’s really quiet. The air is only so-so. Even that Spanish girl’s chile-breath was better than this damp earthy stink! After what seems like forever - I notice my own body smell isn’t so nice - a brushing sound comes through, and Madge is opening the coffin! There’s light and air! I can’t believe it! I thought for sure I was a goner!
“Had enough, my delight?” I see Madge as though I’m looking through a telescope.
“Oh, yes, Mistress, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me!” Mistress takes a headset off of me.
The room she takes me to next is peculiar. It’s frightening because I know the chair in the middle with those torture-arms surrounding it is meant for me. There’s a center pole and walls, both with arms.
Half-naked Madge kisses me again: This time using her soft, pink, rather-long tongue. She is warm, tender and comforting against me. I don’t mind her tongue-flicker, although I am slow to excite. Not much response but some, a scary frisson in my breasts buzzes to my clitoris. I flush pink to my boobs.
I am seated in a kind of stocks, with my hands and neck encircled by steel so I can’t move. A band on each ankle is attached, but my feet are not yanked out from under me, at least not yet. It’s a good thing because the hinged seat I lean against is minuscule, like a swing in the playground. Even my small tight butt overlaps it. Robot-arms holding canes surround me. I say, “You’re going to stick me in the boobs some more?” Arms with canes hang down, coming out of the wall, out of a central pillar in front of me.
A panel sits in front of me bearing a menu on my right. Madge grabs the panel and pulls it aside out of the way. “That was meant for my own self bondage.” Showing me a remote. “I’ll run your program from here”, she says.
I see it has the same menu of ‘Point’, ‘Probe’, ‘Beat’, ‘Spank’, ‘Orgasm’, ‘Whip’, ‘Multi’ and ‘Clamp/Plug/Whip Again’. “You might not get me to …orgasm, Mistress: …I’m …difficult.”
“We’ll see”, she replies. “You may not know, but you have stacked up three extra punishments so far! It’s going to be tough to go easy on you as I’d like, for a first-timer! The first was that you covered up, next you kept your shoes.”
She has her hands behind her back. She pulls out, surprises me with my sneaks, dangling my poor, little, not-so-white tennies back and forth. “They’ll be used in your torture! You want me to do something different, not fuck you. It’s a no-no for you to object in any way, like recommending I not try to make you orgasm!”
Removes her skirt, and her panties, showing a large medium-brown bush slightly darker than her head hair. Puts a very-small-dildo strap-on around her waist. Pushes a button on her remote.
“Probe,” the top button on the panel, is a five-minute program. The robot torturer-arm pokes my mouth with a small, pointed cane. It’s rotten. And other arms probe my nipples with small pointed canes, about a third-inch-thick, a centimeter? It is painful. My large breasts get horribly probed and poked, too. I yell a little. Breasts aren’t meant for very-hard abuse! Nipples can take a little more, but my longish, red nipples are tender, too. Why do the robot-arms keep pressing points into my nipples, pushing them up, pressuring them to push down by gravity against those sharp points? “Owwww!”
“Point,” the second five-minute program, is aimed at my boobs, belly, pussy and thighs. The robot-arms stick the ends of their canes into me all over, without actually breaking my skin, only just. The clitoris-poke makes me shout. “Owwww!” Ends of the canes are quite sharp, the amount of push, is very closely-measured, not to stab me, but to stop when the skin resistance is nearly overcome! My red-dotted breasts are complaining at me now. My pussy is sore too. I’ll bet it has dots from those points! My thighs are red. I feel a thousand stab-wounds! My wonderful boobs! My nipples! “Oww!”
This hurts, but is over before I can’t stand any more. I’m right on the point of not being able to take it.
Suddenly the “Beat”-program starts and small whacks cane onto my tits, nipples, pussy and thighs. I can hardly stand this continuous caning even though the small-cane blows are very light. Mistress says it’s a two-and-a-half-minute program. Pain shocks will end with that duration, which helps. Something like at the dentist’s: I’m clenching my fists tight. Enduring spasms, throbbing. All over my white body!
“Spank” is another two-and-a-half minutes of having plastic-rulers bent back an inch or two and let go, banging into my soft tits, nipples, pussy, belly, butt and thighs. My big red nipples recoil and recover. Mistress enjoys hurting my fluffy nipples so much! My large tits bounce and jiggle painfully with each spank. There‘s no end to my nipples, tits, butt, belly, pussy, thigh spanking! Very rough! “Oww!”
The “Whip” changes the focus to my feet, the tender soles of my narrow pink feet are wound up with a terribly-threatening whine: Held up facing the ceiling. The boob-harness hooked to my blonde hair, holds part of my weight. Now I am suspended by my tits, head, neck, feet and arms. Head spinning: This hanging is really bad, even my hair hurts! I can’t describe the torment of a foot-caning and whipping: It’s too much for feet to take!
First, the canes are used, only a dozen light cane-taps hitting all over the sensitive bottoms of my feet: Killers all the same! My hot feet feel a foot long each and they’re petite for my size!
Flogging of soles of my feet, without much thrust, Madge only letting the strands fall! Is very bad. A retractable-horse pussy-torture device rises creaking out of the floor when I’m suspended. It takes my weight off my wrists, ankles, hair and tits. But it’s worse to have all my weight there! My pussy hurts too, tortured! The pussy-pain rises and I feel it everywhere in my body, with stabbing jolts. It’s cutting me in two! It’s what a circus-lady would feel if really sawn in half! But only for a few moments! “Ow!”
I scream and cry, hardly notice that my feet are, with the whining sound-effect, lowered so I’m not suspended any longer. After torture, retractable-horse pussy-device creak-lowers: She’s withdrawn it?
My feet are nearly too sore for me to stand on them. Flogs my boobs! “Aie!” I scream continuously as the strands hit my nipples over and over, next hitting my soft belly, butt, pussy and thighs. It isn’t even five minutes altogether: A minute for multiple-strand whipping my narrow feet: “Ooooh!” A minute for multiple-strand whipping my boobs: “Ooooh!” Another half-minute multiple-strand whipping my brown-thatched, pink pussy: “Ooooh!” One half-minute each, multiple-strand whipping my full white thighs – my inner-thigh’s most sensitive, multiple-strand whipping my tight round butt – here it’s the crease at the top of my rear thighs that hurts most, multiple-strand whipping my tiny belly, all bad!
The “Orgasm” program involves Madge lifting the swing-seat up and turning it out of her way. She is comfortably sitting in a sling-bike-seat. Slowly thrusting behind me. She must’ve lubed it beforehand. Because I’m not wet! It teasingly doesn’t intrude into my pussy very far. Not far enough to do any good.
Madge says, “Try relaxing, Barb Slut-Baby, this is a five-inches-long tool, but I’m not giving you the whole of it!”
It feels all right: I’m not really raped. Can handle it. I tell Madge so: “Thank you, Mistress!” God, something’s got to work out because the tough boob-harness is killing me and I sting all over.
The bottom part of her very-small strap-on dong has a bump near its front, stimulating my clitoris and hitting my G-spot on the inside each thrust, before it withdraws. It’s pleasant but if most men were doing it, they’d penetrate me all the way. I am on the edge five minutes, and barely come in time before the eight [?] –minute program ends. “Argghh!” I do make it. But I hardly ever orgasm lovemaking! My clitoris wants more!
The next menu-item is “Multi,” where I am penis-gagged, ring-gagged and flogged harder from three directions at once, on my rather-sore tits, thighs and butt.
Meanwhile Madge is grunting and coming – “Argghh!” – as her clitoral back-stimulator dildo is thrust, again a partial and slow stroking, into my orgasm-hungry, not-quite-fulfilled pussy for the whole time, ten minutes.
A ring-gag is quickly, scarily whirred-around in front of my eyes, pressed to my mouth, and a fake penis thrusts in and out my mouth.
The flogging’s very intense since my whipping gets harder fractionally. I look down: See I’m bright red!
My gorgeous tits get ever-more-tautly-bound by elastic strings that go up around my neck. My boobs cinched-tighter, attached to my hair. I cannot see anything but the ceiling now. More-taut breast-bondage? Squeezed into balls, whipped, too! Too much! I shudder throbbing, electric-burning as whips whack each of my much-bigger, E-cup [?] swollen, red globes. If I was free from pain for a minute, I’d worry my tits are to be amputated!
My pussy is shocked when it’s hit and entered from opposite sides! My thighs tenderized! Already red! My butt is whipped harder than the rest of me? My tight bottom-cheeks bounce up and down each hit! I am jerking a bit when impacts strike.
“Stop that jumping! It’s not so bad as all that!
Says Mistress. It’s easy for her. Madge comes a second time! “Argghh!”
I’m not sure why, but Mistress sure gets off on my pain! Somehow I’m excited too!
Mumbled through gags: “Argghh!” I am whipped and my dark-yellow-bearded hole screwed.
Now the penis and the ring-gag are withdrawn. I can scream if I want. I move my lips, tongue. Why do I orgasm twice now, when I am being hurt?
I couldn’t with Jon. It was a continuing problem. He wouldn’t come until I did: Read those doctor-books about females needing orgasm! A real mistake, because he touches me there before I’d come and next thing, Jon’s halfway-soft. Once he uses his mouth. Says my pussy tastes like poison! I‘m using a spermicidal gel which probably is poison! I stop using it but too late. I never convince Jon to try oral sex again, though I blow him a few times! A real desperate move there!
“Clamp/Plug/Whip Again” program of a quarter-hour starts. Mistress replaces with my two little tennis-shoes, two of my robot-arms’ canes and whips!
“I had to re-program these two pauses here. We use your sneakers to replace whips. Hope you appreciate this modification: Ought to be of interest. Your second punishment…” She threatens, evilly-grinning.
What was my first? I notice she took a motorized dildo out from behind me and replaced it with a sling-bicycle seat for herself to get into when screwing me. Maybe it was that?
My boob-nooses tighten even more, my neck squeezes and my hair pulled tight. My boobs turn pinkish-red and red, purple by the end. Electric whooshing noises signal fast-projecting-out clamps snap to my nipples, with a gradual but ever-tightening pull equal to one, two, three, four ounces of weight! I grimace down at my precious, tautly-bondaged, purplish boob-balls as they are lengthened into five-or-six-inch-long ellipses! Accompanied by tremendous tit-pain! Why oh why wasn’t I born flat chested?
“Aieeeee!” I scream. Nobody’s going to hear: Dungeon's soundproofed.
Unfortunately, three more whooshing clamp-pincers pick out my pussy-lips and clitoris. Machinery snaps harshly onto both my pussy-lips, gradually-stretched by four ounces-weight equivalent! Pinches, clamps and stretches my clitoris by a half-ounce-weight equivalent! “…Aieeeee!…Aieeeee!…Aieeeee!”
While I am in suffering maximum torment, Madge’s dildo starts it’s very-slow, annoyingly-incomplete penetration-action. Extremely-gradually-building stimulation helps distract me.
Abruptly, a horrible very-narrow, only-vibrating, anal-plug shoves its way into my asshole. Why is Mistress adding this? I am virgin there, or I should say I was! Anal pain all-new and hurtful, is also a help in distracting me. Lubed in advance, since it goes in smoothly? But it’s quite awful to feel that too-large-seeming, asshole-plugging instrument shaking back where nothing should intrude!
The whipping starts again from all three directions while I’m screwed, stretched and anally-vibrated! My large, bound, elongated-breasts are released from clamps, snap back wildly and are hit hard with my shoe-soles! My poor breasts are hit hard by my own sneaker-soles! “Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!” Flatten, recoil, bounce back every time! I start to black out, but gray-out only fleetingly; forcing myself, I manage to hang in there.
Whip-strokes slow and pause, Madge reappears and everything stops, so she can move the sneakers to the robot-arms towards my momentarily-unclamped pussy and my nether lips allowed to snap back “Thud!”, and sneaker whip-strokes next continue hitting thighs, much harder: “Aieeeee!” I feel every single stroke right now like they were real cats-of-nine-tails! “Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp! Clomp!” My big boobs aren’t neglected, re-clamped mechanically hard by unforgiving metal and again stretched to their maximum, nearly six inches, with a whooshing noise.
“Argghh!” I hear Mistress come through my red fog of anguish!
The stretching couldn’t be worse. My sore thighs and my hot butt are only passing annoyances. I throb with the boob-pain and my pussy is fighting slowly-building dildo-pleasure with contradictory, continuous, hellish-pain-clomp messages: “Argghh!” The pleasure messages won!
The clomping, boob-clamp-stretched whipping stops with my very-unexpected third [!] climax. I see red.
* * *
Madge had a camera-attachment set up, which I didn’t know: Of course we slave-sluts don’t get to sign off on any agreements? Fast-forwarding terribly through my agony, my new Mistress shows me my torture on a TV-screen: A complete record of sufferings?
“I could release it to your Ex and family! I’ve got something on you, Barb!”
A triumphant holler like she really needs to put more screws to me? The program ends. Mistress slowly removes her own strap-on harness. When she’s finished, yanks out my butt plug and works on releasing me. Takes my whip-sneakers off the arms, hunkers down and slips them on my sore feet.
“You’ve earned them now!” Mistress says, with a shout.
There is a returning-circulation sizzle in my breasts and pussy! My pain continues for several minutes.
“Owwww!” I’m let out of my breast-harness: Those taut black elastics bit into my swollen, white, rosy tit-skin. Feels like my breast-harness belongs, holding my round tits so very-tight and making them stand out so straight, became part of me. Tight red string-marks remain to show where it goes. More sizzling of returning-circulation, this time not just my nipples, clit and pussy, but all over both my entire big, round boobs! My reddish aureoles feel they’re being cut right off. This lady sawn in half-feeling all over again! My erect, much-elongated, red nipples throb sharply like they’re bursting! “Uhhhhhh!”
My beautiful, curly yellow hair and my pinkish-furrowed neck, are lovingly disentangled. Mistress kisses, licks my neck and upper-chest as she unwinds my bondage. I flex my wrists and ankles. My feet and my thighs are purplish-red. I look at my bright-red to purple-centered, bull’s eye-butt in the mirror. I feel wrung-out, tired but for once completely satisfied. Not understanding why, through a cloud, I’m seeing Mistress bringing me a robe and I put it on.
“I love you, Madge!” I blurt out and cry at the same time, falling into her arms. I can’t stand up? My sore feet! Why do I see red and black splotches in front of my eyes? We’re both naked and pink! Mistress helps hold me up and it’s a lovely feeling. Except as we’re hugging close, she’s holding something in her hand against my lower back and it scratches me.
Madge says, “Put this money in your pocket and try not to forget it. I have some clothes that’ll fit, but not exactly right. I don’t have any bras as big as you wear. I don’t think you ought to put your sore boobs in one, anyhow. Coats I have. But you won’t be able to close the top in front. Yours custom-made, or what?”
[I get everything altered slightly to fit my big boobs. Nobody ever talks about this, but my ‘ex’ once complained about spending an extra one-third for my tits! I told him "It’s why you picked me, isn’t it?" So he’d better be ready to put up with this slight drawback. I’m not a ‘Medium’ in the bust, or a ‘Large’ anywhere else except in that one buxom spot!]
Madge says, “My hips are larger than yours. Close-enough for you to wear my stuff home with a belt. You’ll move in here and give up your place permanently. You know it’s good for you now.”
I am Barb, twenty-year-old, five-foot-six blonde, imposing 36DDD-tits, slightly too-large butt and thighs. An oversized hourglass! And slave… I’m in the window of a sex-shop called “Figurines”. My body is tightly encased in a half-bra corset, my large boobs hanging out, since I’m bent forward by hands-behind, thumb-cuffing. How did this happen?
It’s difficult to explain. Mistress Madge asks me to shop here. Gives me three hundred bucks and a list. I present my paper unread to the shop assistant, Lisa, who turns out to be a beautiful, black-haired, trim-figured girl, oval-faced with a faintly-yellow complexion. I admire her exactly-correct figure. She smiles as she reads it. Takes me back to a fitting room.
“Let’s see what you’re like under there.” Says the model-figured brunette. She helps me remove my shirt, slowly trailing her fingertips from my shoulders down my soft white arms. Feels my bra-cups.
“Not padded, that’s good.”
Like I need padding! This is too-intrusive a feel-job. I had dates do less touching than this. Lisa hums, easily rolling my long red nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.
“You mind not caressing my nipples so much?” I ask as if it is normal for Lisa to rub my boobs!
“Mistress Madge says on your note that you’re ‘submissive and very obedient’. You making her a liar?”
“Oh, well, go ahead, if that’s what Madge wants.” Mistress Madge is my boss. I do her bidding.
“Good. That’s settled.” Lisa fondles my huge tits a minute, pressing her hands, palms-flat against my bra-cups pushing my boobs up: Letting them abruptly drop back down! Zings like hell!
“You respond nicely.”
My nipples erect, obvious inside my bra, and my tits get all goose-pimpled. She takes off my bra. Its cups like little footballs. Hangs it over the doorknob – which worries me – hurries me half-naked, crowding into this tiny enclosure.
“Your hair could be curled a little?” Fluffing my pretty shoulder-length sun-yellow curls. “Your ends could be cut tidier. Tsk…hair not all the same color.”
Few blondes are, if they’re natural. “I’ve had it cut, but I never need to perm or color it.” Proud of it.
Lisa says, “Mistress prefers you completely the same hair color all over. Let’s see your crotch-hair.”
I can’t say I like this. I strip off my shoes, skirt and panties. Now I’m naked with a fully-dressed salesgirl in a space no larger than a closet. There’s a knock on the door! I shiver fearfully from toes up to head!
Audrey –a couple of inches-taller, tight-unit brunette, year or two older, twenty-two [?] – comes in: It’s real-crowded now and I feel faint as she gently closes herself in. Girl-bodies rub: Boobs-thighs-asses!
“She needs touch-up.” Points at my pussy-hair! My bush is darker-blonde than my corny-glowing head.
“Ms. Slut outlines pink bra-cups over both her areola”, says the newcomer, “What about below them?”
Lisa grasps my two red-ringed, dark-red nipples with her long, wiry, narrow fingers and pulls them up!
I scream, “Ye-owww!” Suddenly Lisa lets go of both my nipples, my heavy breasts fall, yanking down.
Audrey holds a ball-gag in front of my mouth. “Open wide,” she says.
Shoves it in, and I let her, to my shame. A big ball: Tits-touching, too-close-to-me, Lisa attaches, snap-fastening harness on my head!
Lisa says, “Getting back to your boobs, you have too-tight a bra. That’s why you’ve got lines on top.”
Audrey says, “There’s matching lines beneath your tits too.” Lisa pinches my nipples and hauls my big breasts up high again. Scream muffled. Audrey scratches into my skin horribly, tracing pink lines on the undersides of my enormous titties with her long fingernails. My back to the mirror now, I don’t see gag.
“Mm-oo!” I try to stop them: Struggle. Shaking heads, Audrey’s and Lisa’s hard hands knock mine down.
“Listen, Mistress Madge insists you be fitted right, this is a …” [Looks at my bra, which I notice now Audrey brought in with her] ”…Rothman’s 36DDD. Off-the-shelf store-bras never any good for fitting…”
Lisa says, [glancing at the note I gave her] “Mistress measures Ms. Slut as 35-to-36 inches and F-cup.”
Audrey lifts out my gag for a moment stretching belts around my head and unpleasantly pulling my hair, says, “We’ll fit you with a corset we have for 35F, 18-to-20 inch waist and 35-inch hips.”
“But I’m 36D-21-36. Mistress plastered slimy, clayey stuff on me, said I was 35 and three-eighths-inch bust and a triple-D cup. Otherwise, my measurements are correct. Perhaps I gained a pound or two?”
Lisa helps shut me back up, pressing the ball-gag behind my teeth. Leering, she snaps harness on nastily.
Audrey says, “Well, we ordered a corset. Mistress wants your waist smaller. We’ll exhibit you for an hour in our store-window. You’re too shy.”
That exhibition scares me more than anything!
Lisa is sliding her hands down my curving sides, saying, “You’re a little too fat!” [I am not too-fat!]
Audrey says, “This will fix that up.” Holding the corset. “Let’s look at your bust again.” She grabs my breasts around my nipples and grips roughly under my breasts, like a man would. Squashes both my large boobs, one in each hand – pulling them up high… “Good heft.” I like the way they don’t droop. Large tits usually do. But yours don’t! Lisa, make Ms. Slut’s nipples erect!”
Lisa licks my nipples! I want to shout…I’m gagged …Only a thwarted “Mumf!” gets out. My nipples rise.
Audrey says, “Good work. Hold her nipple out. Just hold it there.”
They squeeze my red tip pinched painfully against the hard ruler. Audrey makes a note. “Now for her areola.”
They re-do their squeeze-play except it’s worse, since a large part of my front-boob’s squeezed against their ruler. So it can be measured. Would howl if I could.
“Let’s do both: They’re different sometimes.”
They’re doing it over! Holding a ruler: “One inch… that's long: Your areola are one and one-half inches wide. That’s a lot.”
The black corset fits small on me. Its half-cups support me, but my tits present as if they sit up and out on a shelf. My wide, reddish areola and long, red nipples, half-covered at their bases. Audrey can’t pull the black corset strings in back in at all. Next she says to Lisa: “That’s her waist-size, twenty-one inches.”
Lisa says, “Shouldn’t we tighten her down an inch or two?” Reaches behind, touching my leg and butt!
“Mmm-mo!” I raise my hands to stop their pull on the strings, making a ‘No’ face, shaking my head.
Lisa looks into my eyes and says slowly, “You don’t want us to tell Madge you were uncooperative, do you?” She has a Eurasian-look to her face I didn’t notice before: That might explain her cruelty?
Audrey says, “Of course, Ms. Slut does always just what Madge wants. That’s what we want, too. So…”
Rather roughly Audrey puts her knee in my ass, pulls hard, I exhale violently, forced to expel stomach-air. “Mm-Ah!” Crushed up against the wall, flattened, stomach awfully-tight, little changing-room rocking!
“Lisa, hold the string-network in place there.” The smaller salesgirl presses on my back with both hands. “Good.”
I feel Audrey tying a knot in the strings. My face, my tits jam hard against the mirror. I can’t breathe very easily. “That’s twenty inches, as big as this corset gets.” Long, sharp-nails, fingers, scrape down the corset-bottom atop my naked ass! Audrey pulls my tits up casually – which is hurtful – my white, reddish-areola, red-tipped boobs sit completely-uncovered shelved-out! I’m humongous-looking!
Lisa happily smoothes both my tits out – producing a frisson through me – and settles my boobs back into the cups. My cleavage looks a mile deep. Lisa says, “Good enough to eat!” I don’t want her thrills!
Audrey grins and picks up two small bags. “We’re thumb-cuffing you behind, Ms. Slut, so turn around.”
I turn and Lisa holds one hand, Audrey pulls my other hand around to meet it and I’m cuffed! I feel helpless and my shoulders ache a little too. Salesgirls sidle, hustle-marching me out of dressing-room.
Door slams. My prominent bosom is more-so. Across store, past two curious men-customers, into store window I’m halfway-bentover toward thin-glass globes like big light bulbs: Nearly touch my gigantic tits.
A bag is placed in my hands behind my back. I straighten up a bit as a result. My nipples lift up inches!
Lisa says, “Don’t drop the balls in our bag because you’ll be paddled five times for every ball that falls!”
Abruptly, a shock of electricity jumps from each of the bulb-like glass globes to both my tits! “Zapppp!”
I jump at least a foot! I hear falling balls! Lisa snickers [ha, ha, ha], counting, “That’s eight already, and it’s five paddle-spanks for each ball: A forty-paddle-spank punishment, you owe us and Madge …so far!”
Audrey says, “Leave her to stew on that, Lisa. C’mon, there are a couple more customers inside. We can’t spend all day on Ms. Slut!” Without a backward glance, she sticks a mirror behind me, facing-out so the passersby can all see reflected my pussy and my asshole! I crane my neck backwards see my dark-yellow hidden pussy-fur reflected-out for all to see in the mirror! My dark taut asshole. My perfect full rear… the crease at the top of my thighs in the back… the shaded crack of my ass… its slightly-too-big, exactly-roundness! Curvy backs of my white pillar-thighs! My twisted-around dismayed face reflected. I see lopsided sack of balls in my thumb-cuffed hands…All those – dozen [?] – balls spilled on the floor…
I get zapped: Two more balls fall from bag in my hands, I cry uncontrollably, more balls fall, ”Clunk!”
I am leaning far over, big tits hanging out near-wholly! I writhe, weep, squirm, shift my huge boobs back and forth to avoid zapping globes. Jump when bolts flame into my nipples! “Ah!” See fiery wave climb!
* * *
Madge appears outside the store, helloes and grins, enters. I wonder if my time is almost up? I’m an eternal display in the store window: Weeping, zinging. …During lunch, crowds form in an arc, out front!
The two, trim, beautiful, brunette salesgirls smilingly appear, Lisa un-gagging me, Audrey turning off the globe-zappers. Madge is behind me un-cuffing me. Rubs my bottom and pussy, which oddly boosts me!
“You poor thing!” A small half-hug: I could use lots of consoling because I’m really ill-used and pathetic.
“Did you know you dropped all the balls? Twenty-five: That’s one hundred and twenty-five paddle-spanks.” Folding neatly my now-empty ball-bag, replacing my thumb-cuffs in another. Smiling absently.
She doesn’t seem worried. I’m happy not to be displayed anymore. My only bother is, I’m about to be severely-punished, never comforting…
Madge says in a low voice, “Don’t worry, you’ll make more money if they wallop you really badly.”
“Mistress, aren’t you going to…?” [Sob.] I blurrily see Madge unclearly through my uncontrolled tears…
“No, Slut, I’m letting Lisa and Audrey spank: They want to try out their new metal-studded, holed paddle for the first time.”
Shows me a paddle at least eighteen inches long and four inches wide, with two-inch metal studs, a half-inch high, imbedded all over it. I feel the elevated, hard metal studs with my fingers: They already hurt!
“This is the heaviest of spanking-paddles and nobody took a hundred and twenty-five spanks before!”
Lisa is very excited: Shows me a bench where her knees fit in a hole so I won’t be lying directly on her. “Bend over.”
I do, lying face-down on the bench squashing my big tits, and I suddenly feel I can breathe. The corset-strings are pulled out.
“Get up!” Lisa says from underneath my body. She’s rather bony?
The black garment is rudely yanked out from under me. My skin burns all over but it’s really no big deal.
The ass-paddling isn’t so bad at first: Thumps my ass worse because Audrey replaces Lisa under me halfway, is bigger and as the first torturer, Audrey hit me harder. “Thwack!” My bottom’s burnt red-hot! That paddle’s rougher than a hand! Studs dig into my bottom, yet I feel I should apologize to Lisa?
I think I won’t live through it, burning, especially when Audrey says: “She’s bleeds a bit…Should I stop?”
“No, keep going…” It sounds like Mistress! There’s perhaps twenty I don’t remember the ‘Thwacks’ of: I semi-black out. Or mindlessly waft off dazed to a grayish fuzzy world: No paddles Mistresses salesgirls!
“Wake up!” Some girl’s yelling. …I open my watering eyes. Lisa says, “Oh, good, we thought you dead!”
* * *
I’m in a car. Mistress says, “We dressed you up again, but you might as well strip down to nothing!”
“Yes, darling… and now!”
I take off my shirt, no easy matter, jerked in a moving vehicle. I notice that for all the bra-talk, I don’t have one on. I bend over, my awful-sore butt is rubbed raw on the seat. “Uhh!” …I lift myself –my bottom’s numb in spots, feels like it belongs to a different person– delicately unzip, push down my skirt and panties together. My wounded, perfect-heart-shape bottom, white-pillar thighs, dark-blonde-fringed pussy, vibrate directly on car seat. It’s weird. Feels abnormal.…It hurts.…I’m afraid?
“Throw your shirt, skirt and underpants into the back. Put your head where your ass was, vice-versa.”
I’m to moon the world? Now, when my butt is probably in the worst shape it’s ever been in? I’m sticking my pussy and bottom up and out at the world. I smell myself on the seat: Sweat and blood. At least I’m showing off my great rear-thighs, pink-white, world-class… and winners, were beauty-pageants held for ‘Best Thighs Anywhere’! Nobody sees my great tits for once they’re nearly in my face!
“Stay that way, I like you upside-down, Barb… it's an improvement!”
Mistress intermittently fingers my hips, swollen bottom, even my asshole! Her fingers slide into my [wet!] pussy. I’m all sore thereabouts. And waving her hand, tapping and patting me intimately, but erratic, so I tell she’s watching the road, and not me? Madge’s reaching in-between my armpit and head, feels my large-but-squashed tits, nipples. Doesn’t know what part of me it is for certain? …Oh, yes! …Casual pinches, pulling out my dark-red nipples! Blindly Madge pokes softness…It’s like a machine’s doing it: A foreign-feeling stranger?
Madge’s fingers feel-poke my inverted pressured face! This is my limit: Perhaps bondage-painslut training? Madge says movers pack, move, and unpack me today. I live with her. She says, “I own you!”
* * *
The next day Madge awakens me early to say she has to dress and eat because they will have company. I wear my new loose bra, a white, peasant, drawstring-neck top, and a cute dress.
Before anything, Mistress shackles my wrists, ankles and unstrings my neckline, reaches inside, grips each of my breasts harshly, pulls out my bra-cups, clamps my nipples heavily both with tough c-clamps.
Madge slaps down my feckless, shackled-hands saying, “…A punishment for that!” Locks a long bicycle-chain, a useless weight-padlock in its middle, to tit-clamps! Chain drops harshly. “Who owns you, Slut?”
Crying, I stammer out, “You do, Mistress!” I am expected to serve her breakfast like this? It’s made worse by the tray which is chained to my tit-clamps! I tell Mistress I’ll bring her coffee, cream and sugar on my tit-chained tray. [It’s silver and heavy by itself!] That’s all I can handle because otherwise the pain’s too great, I’ll pass out and collapse! My breasts sink below horizontal, yanked by both weights.
I’m allowed to make two extra trips for her eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, jelly. The six-foot-long shiny, aluminum loop of tit-locked bicycle-chain is hitting me between the legs the whole time with its useless weight-padlock! Mistress slowly carefully removes my tit-tray and the long punishment-chain. Their removal savored. Mistress staring into my cringing-eyes. Seeing how greatly the chained-tit-tray, and the long silvery chain with its thumping crotch-lock, hurt me, she sadistically smiles.
I get to eat scraps, leaping up from kneeling on the floor beside her chair like a dog! The partial egg-scraps Madge holds high so I can nip at; her bitten-off sausage-pieces are tasty, nearly-hot. Mistress pours coffee from her cup onto my tongue, a few drops at a time. A mouthful, Madge transfers shooting directly from her mouth to mine! A quarter-cup in all, and I swear it has more taste this way! Mistress says I’m ‘a good girl’. I’m to obey our company and treat our company the same, as if their preferences are Madge’s?
I’ve had enough food, I’m told… [My smallest meal-intake ever!]
“You’re a well-behaved slut, now, aren’t you?”
I can’t stand that word ‘slut.’ I’m not. She tightens down the c-clamps to maximum-pressure, my dark-red buds totally flatten, scream with pain! It goes to my belly! I feel every step, my tits beaten!
“Answer the door!”
Shackled? Tit-clamped? I answer it. Paining. Our company: Audrey and Lisa!
They smile and each cheerfully reach into my dress, jangle, play with one of my tight tit-clamps through my loose bra, rattle my short arm-chains and leg-chains, and feel my heavy wrist-shackles and ankle-shackles!
“You’ve got Slut controlled as well as we could, Madge!”
I’d rather have seen the devil at my door! They maul me, joke with Madge about need to punish me for my offensive excessive boobery.
A word about the visitors: Jealousy is the basis of their rancor! They have average-to-small breasts, while I’m most-impressive? Mistress who equals Lisa and Audrey combined in breast line, is small compared to my awesome mammary-development? Mistress guides me to the grave-room.
I didn’t want to come out and ask what they’re here for. I know Madge tells me whenever? She removes my shackles, clamps. Sizzling circulation-return bothers me for minutes after I sit hard on a chair. Dazed enough, I see red in front of my eyes!
Lisa is next to me and pointedly says, “I’d like to look a little closer…” Slipping a fingertip into my neckline she pulls, peeks! Nipple-clamp dents easily visible!
I am startled when she kicks her shoe off, lets her foot play up along my leg, next, in-between my legs. I’m excited. Lisa’s lips part. Her eyes glisten. I should stop her right away. I look to Madge for help.
Madge says: “We’ll have fun with you first. Next, you get buried alive. I hope you don’t mind, dear?” She waves to Audrey on my other side: A sort of go-ahead wave.
Audrey pushes my dress way up to where Lisa explored: Her hard paws grasp me, parting my tender, pinkish-white, fleshy inner-thighs. Jasper bulge indicates my protruding pussy only a little guarded by my thin cream panty.
Ignoring this arrogant displaying of my curvy pulchritude, I say, “But Mistress, it isn’t for real, is it? Like before when you buried me, you dug me right up?”
Madge says to Lisa, “Let’s get Barb stripped for action.”
Lisa and Audrey waste no time. Pull off my clothes. Audrey removes my dress, pushes it up even more: My panties and lovely thighs easily visible, now I can’t see because it’s over my head! Audrey pinches my thighs and belly, before she removes it completely. “Ouch!”
Down to my bra and panties, Madge orders them to stop, check the size. Lisa folds back my bra-strap, looks, saying, “36F, and it fits Barb right!”
I jump up: Lisa trips me, my ringed, red-tip boobs fall out: That size bra is too-large on me.
On my getting back up, I feel bullied, but don’t fight: Mistress wants me to let them continue? Audrey adjusts one bra-cup while Lisa smoothes my other bra-cup, their attentions perk my nipples.
Madge says, “Go ahead, kneel her.” The salesgirls cruelly bend my arms back until I’m forced to kneel.
My head hits the floor when I tripped, I’m woozy. “You could’ve asked if I’d like to please Mistress?”
“Eat me!” orders Mistress, pulls up her skirt. I start in, eat Mistress while beautiful, model-thin vixens twist my arms painfully, their thighs and pussies smelling acidly, disturbingly-close to my face: It isn’t at all easy…I’m not loose and happy: The opposite, tense and irritable…
After a few minutes I manage to whirl my head, lick, suck hard and fast-enough, Madge climaxes her always-furious gasp-way. “Argghh!”
Madge, Audrey, Lisa disrobe: Lisa grins horribly. I kiss, lick, suckle my Mistress’ sagging C-cup breasts.
“All right, up into the dirt with the little devil!”
They pull me around, yank off my new bra and cream panties with rough tugs. They’re not ruined yet? I’ve a tiny belly, exactly C-curved, white-pink hips, fully-round, white melon-boobs, decorated with specially-wide, pinkish-red areola and long, deeply blood-red nipples. Are there those who think me too bosomy? …I’ve never met any: Must be rare birds? Audrey and Lisa lift me, …I’m no lightweight. Madge comes over and gives me a lifting-shove on my chubby, white, sore butt, finishing off my grave-carry. I flop into the grave site on my back. The dirt feels terrible directly touching my bottom and back. I try to hold my hair up from it. Suddenly Lisa climbs into the dirt, sits her cunt upon my face and neck!
Lisa sits on my face so I'm is pushed down into the dirt and can only breathe if I lift her head up into Lisa’s sparsely jet-black-haired pussy. So I begin eating the exquisite, thin, yellow-skinned nude girl, breathes through my nose. I shiver and her sex is quivering uncontrollably! Earthy smell, clammy pussy-taste compete, the earthiness damping my excitement, tasting Lisa’s unknown pussy. Suddenly my nostrils are held shut!
‘I can’t breathe!’ [Panics painslut!] Is it worth it? I’m sucking out whatever air Lisa has in her pussy: If I lick her clitoris, I can breathe! I’m leaning back with my chin high, licking it fast, breathing when able? My tongue darts at her clitoris, hitting it hard repeatedly until bouncing back off it! Heart pounding riotously, my breathing harder! She’s coming! “Argghh!” Lisa’s butt lifts off of my neck. She’s lovely-happy-satisfied. Pinkish-tan tipped, rosy tits: B-cups? Where’s Lisa silky, gold color from: She’s Italian?
Audrey replaces her atop me. I see a long, white, thin thigh, cross over in foreground, largely-close to my face. Far above, past her pear-shape, pert bosoms in-between, a small Audrey-face is visible. A dark-brown-furred, hairier pussy, with a sharp, acrid taste! I’m held again by my nostrils so I have to eat her clitoris and after my lick-suck, head-spun, mouth-grasp, innards-exploration worthy of a Portuguese explorer, Audrey comes heavily, “Argghh!” Lifts perfectly-charming, thinly-beautiful, curvy leg, vanishes.
Mistress gets on top of my face and I also eat her to orgasm! I know Madge’s taste, …lighter and more pleasant. Her pussy wears light-brown to sometimes medium-brown fringe. I reach her G-spot and hit it with my tongue, my only problem that my top front teeth crunch her clit. I lap it, to help it feel all-better, suck it up sky-high and tongue-press her love-button hard as I can! After her orgasm, “Argghh!”
The three - my so-friendlies - push my legs down in the dirt! “No!” I yell but in vain. My big boobs are protruding from the dirt, as is my belly.
Climbing up me like a horizontal ladder, pressing all my big body into the grave-earth more deeply, naked Lisa says, “More than a mouthful’s a waste.” Kisses, licks, sucks, bites, stretches my floppy tits by their dark-red nipples. Little or no thrill for me? I admire her large pink-tan nipples, the perfect shape of her little tits: Lift, swing, hang, cute golden pointy apples…
Audrey touches me in-between my legs. “I have a secret. I orgasm from boob-stimulation!" Hugs hers.
Madge tongue-kisses me very deeply and for an awful long time, holding me extremely-tight. I orgasm. “Argghh!” That’s a first for me …to come from kissing! …Even a make-out! …I’m very fond of Madge.
Audrey says “Let’s switch!” She starts in skillfully kissing, licking and sucking my boobs, sharing her B-cups with me at the same time, since she’s leaning over me upside-down from the top end of the grave-site. They’re like pears, taste tart-crunchy-sweet like the fruit too. I try to do as good a job eating her medium brown-nubbin boobs that hang over my nose, eyes and mouth so prettily, as she is doing mine.
Lisa scratches my pussy and clitoris gently…I hate her…I don’t care, exciting…I orgasm again. “Argghh!”
Audrey comes, “Argghh!” Her tits hang so near my face, I take up the option of licking ,sucking, kissing!
Lisa starts kissing my face, ears, neck and upper chest: I’m curvy even higher than my breasts: Sort of a solid, overall, quality-control to my curviness? I’m not exactly beautiful: I’ve never known what’s amiss?
Lisa wants my armpits, so I raise my arms, fresh dirt falling down on both sides. Lisa is licking and chewing my skin, raking my armpits with her teeth, biting, tasting me, …plucking horribly. It really hurts!
Mistress is eating my pussy: Nibbling easily rabbit-like at my nether lips and licking my clitoris at the same time. I orgasm again, “Argghh!” Which is about my limit. Madge seems to know. Closes the dirt around my sides with a trowel. The tool nicks me at times, and when I cry out, poked, Mistress laughs!
I’m dirt-covered to my waist. Next, to the base of my tits, where each envious shop-girl pushes one of my boobs down rather hard, they’re soft, puffy and aren’t meant to take hard-pressing! It is painful, so I sink into the dirt even to cover my enormous, round breast-mounds as far as the edges of my pinkish-reddish areola, which so-attractively, widely-ring my long dark-red nipples. I’ve got like big bulls eyes…?
Audrey and Lisa lick my nipples erect – each girl lapping one nipple thoroughly. Mistress holds two silvery clamps, and when the salesgirls nod with satisfaction at my hardened buds, Madge tightens the awful, heavy clamps as far as they’ll go onto my dark-red tempters, meant for babies and pleasure! Tightening the large c-clamps until my nipples - so puffy usually - are as flat as pancakes! It’s terrible agony! Metal is horribly heavy, cold, harsh to feel on my sensitive pinkies. In my aureoles, all over, through my large boobs pain courses along from my swollen squashed-down red nipples: Open-mouthed indescribable anguish flashes over me! …I’d like to keep from sinking, since it means I’m ending up underground! A tube is put in my mouth and both my nostrils. The tubes lead out to the air!
“Sweet death-dreams.” Madge whispers, dirt-covering my head, hair and face! My arms are tied at the wrists and tucked above my head. My tits and clamped nipples giving, at this extension: I’m built so big. …That stretch is killer. … Mistress plants a pole overhead in-between my wrists, post-holing, twisting and auguring-in loudly crunching, my arms covering themselves with dirt. Ties my wrists to the pole and as an after-thought, lifts my head, wraps my wrist-rope around my neck! Spitting out my breathing tube, I groan neck-roped. “No, Mistress!” I object.
My tube is shoved back into my mouth. “Shut up or you’ll be a goner, Barb!”
The choker is pulled taut and my head pushed back down under the fresh dirt. The same thing is done at my feet, apparently by Audrey and Lisa, since I barely-discern their sneers and titters? My ankles are pushed wider so my knees are well-parted: Sharp nails pry, spreading my sex open! My pussy feels dirty: my fringe dribbles earth coolly into it.
Audrey and Lisa trail my breathing-tubes out of the grave dirt-pile and through a hole in a heavy curtain. I hear muffled Audrey kiss Lisa’s thin lips medium-long. That’s a kiss? “What next, Mistress?” Asks one.
Madge says ‘Might as well clip this on’. Which is a knee-spreader-bar. I hear muttering but make out, “Now we all shovel.”
Clods rain down on me! Indirectly, I’m hit in the face, neck, hurting clamped boobs, pussy, belly and thighs, thudding over and over! Six inches of earth in-between, it’s a shock to have all that dirt thrown in my face and continuously beat pained tits, face, body. Don’t know how long thuds pour down? Everything above me gets heavy and thick-blanketed. I feel my splayed-open pussy filling with fresh earth! There could be worms or other critters inside me! Fearful I try to keep my head.
Can’t hear any talk. It gets cold and dark. They’re drawing the blackout curtain over me? A dank smell. The choker on my neck pinches if I move, so I stay as still as possible. That’s what it’s for? Yet it could finish me off for real, I notice specially since it tightens when I try to wrench my arms loose!
My neck-rope cinches tighter by my stupid act. It doesn’t loosen when I stop! Hardly able to breathe, feel red and swollen? I itch all over, but I don’t dare try to move my arms. …My feet can’t help either. Why’d I get… excited? I’m working up to a final orgasm? It’s building on its own?
I’m blind as a bat, I can’t open my mouth. I’m completely buried! My boobs …crushing, pinching nipples won’t numb? Zings, zaps burn overflowing my boobs! From my squashed-nipples all the way down to my belly, tingling nerves smash bee-line to my clitoris, my buried defiled earth-filled pussy. I halfway-orgasm: Ohhhh!” Nearly fall asleep at the same time? Or do I pass out? There’s a buzz in my clamped-tits zipping to my parted thighs and dirt-stuffed pussy. I never sleep through a buzzer? I’m not here in the earth: I’m free as a helpless, tortured, buried captive. At least I die satisfied. How many say that?
A sudden splash of cold water drenches me! A strong wind’s freezing me! The saltwater hits me hard and heavy: My torpedo-nose boobs clamped, a crotch-rope splits me in half…I’m not completely-suspended, except when my feet slip off their pedestals. I am Barb, twenty-year-old, five-foot-six blonde, startling 36DD-tits, a too-large butt and thighs: An oversized hourglass! …And slave…
I’m a figurehead tied onto the foremast on the bow of Mistress Madge’s yacht. I see ahead of me a pretty, tropical port in view with swaying palm trees. Only longshoremen stare at my naked, roped-tight body from the shore. The guys aren’t sure I’m a live girl, not a wooden carving. I’d wiggle if my feet wouldn’t drop. But pussy-pain result is too high a price to pay for my whim. The water looks gray-blue-choppy. I rock from side to side when she’s docking. My boobs pulling: They’re clamp-roped to my tied hands behind the foremast. My pussy is crotch-roped to my behind-tied hands-rope. A feathered-weight lands on my head. I don’t know, it’s a seagull?
My gull flies off, the surprise makes me lose my footing. Oops! I hurt when my crotch-rope cuts into my pussy! It’s raw and sore now! My boob-clamps yank up, my reddish-ringed, wide-aureole tits raise, my enormous rack holds me unsteadily. I desperately kick my feet, to find the elusive pedestals above my hanging feet now I’ve slipped off. I twist, lifting bent legs wildly, leaning to one side, next, the other.
They’re here? Way up here? My hips are shaking, my cunt cut into badly, deep, my boobs stretched. The pedestals are at least five inches higher than my feet! My boobs stretched to their maximum, no wonder I’m in terrific pain! Rope crushes my pussy even after removal of pressure! Foot-pedestals greasy: It’s hard to stay up! Clamped-flat-nipples, my howitzer-boobs, return to normal - (?) -pain-twinges.
[Madge’s Viewpoint of the Virtual-Reality Barb-Hustle]
Madge turns down the ‘high’ setting, of her industrial-sized fan facing Barb, to ‘medium.’ Picks up a half-gallon pail of cold, salty, sandy water. Douses her naked, standing pole-tied, stretched, tit-clamped, crotch-roped Barb! “Splash!” She places her long-handled mop with the scaly-looking feet at the bottom, on the blonde’s shoulder, who gratifies her by violently shrugging off this “bird.” [Heh, heh!]
Chuckles quietly at the predicament of her big-breasted slave-girl. Madge squirts more oil on Barb’s feet, who slips off her pedestals, jerking, waving feet again. Suspended, Barb’s crotch-rope sinks into and deeply bites her pussy, crushing her clitoris and asshole as well. The fiendish heavy-metal nipple-clamps pull Barb’s huge, reddish-ringed, bullseye-mammaries up to her neck.
“Aieeeee!” Full-throated screaming. A heavy pail of hard-thrown salt-water assails Barb. Madge turns fan-speed up to maximum, ‘very-high’. Mistress chuckles at her slave-girl’s all-over goose-pimples. That big wind is cold even to dressed, dry Mistress Madge!
The virtual-reality headset feeds figurehead/seagoing imagery to blindfolded Barb. She’s in Madge’s house the whole time, fooled partly by a mild hypnotic drug. The mast-pole Barb’s attached-to, and its foot-pedestals are real. Madge pushes two remotes’ “Port” and ‘rocking’ buttons, the pole trembling back and forth goes with the boat’s movement while virtual-reality headset fed docking-imagery to her slave-slut. Throws her last pail of near-icy, sandy, salted water lashing hard onto Barb! It drains, drips off, while soaked-slave shakes miserably. Mistress smiles sinisterly to herself and goes upstairs.
[Barb’s View, Her Release]
I can’t believe that mast-pole was in our basement! I never was on a ship! What the geeks do is incredible! Instead of going to the movies, I am the movie! I rub my sore pussy and it’s red but I’ve been purple there, it’s only a little hurt, not like that livid neck-rope mark I had for a week after my ‘burial’. Brrr. I shake thinking of that dark scary scene: Drive picture away. As for my wide pinkish-red-ringed, red-nipple boobs, there’s hardly a sign of my tit-bondage. A few pink traces. Not at all serious.
I’m putting on my new 36F-bra. I lost a pound but I still wear this bigger size. Mistress wants me to wear this tight black corset. I don’t have to force my half-football-shaped tits into my bra, they fit loose. The corset I wrap and it has only half-cups that ‘sort-of’ support my tits. I can’t pull the strings but my waist is twenty, this corset’s size, at maximum. I am getting smaller, but not much!
Madge comes in and kisses me on the lips, saying, ‘Your eyes aren’t blackened anymore and your nose isn’t swelled-up or misshapen either, that’s great!’
I had a few little problems after my last session: Burial took a toll on my body – mostly my neck hurt but now it’s okay – after ten days! Mistress yanks on my corset-strings. I gasp! Madge ties them down taut.
Madge says, I ‘Can shave, pluck her hairs and eat her pussy.’ I’m trained to eat her, though I’m straight! I shave Mistress’s pussy very carefully. She’s pretty even here, where no woman is!
She says, ‘There’s a few stray hairs near my clitoris and in my pussy-lip crevices.’ I’m careful with her tiny Lady Wick: Dip and rinse often, in-between strokes: Her light-brown fur peels off little by little.
She asks that I pluck her stray light-brown hairs out as gently as possible, one at a time, with my teeth!
I cry out: “Oh, no. Mistress, I can’t!”
She says, "There will be a punishment for that." I know I have to, with my teeth, pluck her remaining faintly-tan pussy hairs out one by one. Pluck! And gently, as though such a thing were possible! Uh-oh!
Kneeling in front of her. A upended no-slip bath mat is put under my knees, its grippers stabbing into my knees and toes. They’re only hard-rubber grips, so there won’t be damage, unlike that burial-business last time when - if my recovery took longer - Mistress threatened the doctor and hospital. No pay while I’m in there! Whose mistake would it be if I got gangrene in my clamped tits, hit and buried too long? Not mine. Yet slave-girl has no say. Can’t object to save my extremely-fair, soft, smooth skin!
My teeth and my tongue work together. My nose is pressed tightly onto Madge’s clitoris. Using my teeth, I grasp a few thin hairs, there’s half a dozen, and with my tongue, finely separate them against my upper lip and gripping one between my teeth, very-gradually pull it back with my head. “Pluck!”
“Uhh!” Mistress grunts. “Use your lips and teeth to pull, not your head, Slut!”
Mistress likes to insult me. I’m not a slut. I never have been. I am a good girl. I tell myself silently, not arguing. Madge’d hurt me more. I’m not sure this sharp mat is my punishment for objecting? Although it’s gritty underfoot and has all these sharp edges biting into me! Her punishments are often unusual, torturous!
It takes fifteen minutes to pluck Mistress’s pussy-hairs exactly the way she wants. I bring Madge to gasping orgasm by my tried-and-true oral-sex techniques such as: Head-circling, clitoris-sucking, tongue-G-spot poking. After her little joy-button’s raised up high by my pussy-lip licking and a clitoris-spin-lapping, I tongue-depress her clitoris hard. It’s pretty much a sure thing: Madge isn’t so strong in her pussy as elsewhere! She tenses all over, without being too graphic, her cunt gets, more erect? If I look up at the moment she has her ‘little death’, as the French say, her face is ferocious-gasping, next, glazed with sleepy-looking eyes half-shut, Madge’s nice mouth opens a little like she’s saying “Oh!”
“Argghh!” A minute of all of the above…Madge kisses me on the lips, “I’m going to strip you, little Slut.” Unbuttoning my blouse slowly, Mistress pretends to be surprised by giant cones in my very-full bra.
“Ah! Oh!” “How wonderfully-built my Slutty Girl is!”
Removing my bra, I helpfully lean, stretch out one arm, the other. Madge trails her hands down me, slowly removing straps down my white, chubby-but-shapely arms.
“Such colorful areola! Blood-red nipples!” [Flick, flick!] Finger-snapping my dark-red long nipples erect.
“You’re awful sensitive, aren’t you, silly Slut?”
[Flick, flick! Flick, flick!] Keep pain to myself this time!
Madge thorough-feels me, lifting and hefting my huge boobs, squeezing, kissing, licking, sucking. It’s more usual for a man to do all this playing with my heavy boobs! I like when men love my tits, it’s a turn-on. Breasts tingle all-over! Yet I can’t come from having my boobs felt and sucked. Few girls can!
Madge unstrings my back, admires subtle ’tween-shoulder-blade curves. “How delightful! So yummy!”
“Thank you,” breathily slips out of me by force of habit! Grinning, Mistress pushes down my corset.
I stand to help. Lift one dainty size-five foot, next, my other slim foot, out of my frilly cream pants.
Madge thrills me, times like this! Feels my massive, pillar-thighs, my round butt-cheeks totally: My oversize full-circle bottom appreciated!
“Turn around, Slut!”
Mistress kisses me where nobody else ever would. Endlessly… Completely licks my so-pretty, smooth-as-silk, rounded rear-thighs: Infrequently seen… even by me. Rubs her face a lot, back and forth, against my rear end! Presses her face against one bottom-cheek; next, my other perfectly-round beauty.
While her arms around me, her fingers spread apart, pinch, poke, press, pull at my pussy! This non-stop action does get me. “Argghh!” Pain and pleasure rush me! All mixed together!
Madge says she’s getting her hair dyed red, wants to wear a red merkin. That’s a pussy-hair wig! She could’ve dyed it, but she doesn’t like chemicals around her sex?
How about the dirt pushed into my poor cunt? Douched myself out, four times, before I felt clean? And I’m never totally-sure of that result? That’s me, the abject slave-girl! It doesn’t matter if I’m defiled! Or ruined. I’m paid extra. In fact my bondage-bonuses were four times my salary last time.
When not bondaged and beaten, like my last ten days, I take dictation. My secretary job is typing and filing for Mistress. Mistress says my steno is bad: She uses a Dictaphone-gadget. I take her dictation longhand. Play the disk back and write it all down, so I don’t slow her flow. I’m a slow typist, too. I put her office papers away. I discover out Mistress is filthy rich, received a half-million dollar insurance payment, three million bucks for her stock in her software company. And she retains a small interest in her company and their patents! More money comes in each month than she spends from three different sources. She’ll never run out! I’m her single biggest expense, half of her budget, like power, food and rent combined equals me! Madge says she thinks the world of Barb it means only, she loves to hurt me?
Mistress holds one of my hands behind me gently. Open-mouthed kisses me on the lips. Pointy tongue flicks inside mouth. I’m not sure why, because she pulls my other hand behind me to meet my first and ties me behind, cinching in-between my wrists, taut-tying my elbows. They don’t touch: A huge knot is the middle space, real tight, hurts me. I’m sure that’s her idea, to pain me a lot!
Mistress says, “Yes, this will be a full punishment, to the bitter end.”
I am scared. Not wanting to be gagged, I don’t ask. I depend on Mistress’s judgment she won’t injure me in any serious or permanent way, or kill me. After all, I didn’t get gangrene! My nosebleed, black eyes, carved-neck and twice-swelled nipples are only temporary, annoying disfigurements. My hair washed a half-dozen times and some falls out, but full, sunshiny, yellowish head of hair stays. Mistress says the recuperative-powers of a twenty-year-old girl are quite stupendous! I only wish I’m half so confident: Tremble, knees weaken…
My ankles, she ties. Mistress ties me below-knees and above-knees and my ultra-fair, fleshy, upper-thighs so tightly, rope imbeds itself, sinks deeply into my curvy, hefty thighs! Mistress drags me. I can’t walk even the few steps to her trunk. Yes, a box. She lowers me into it. I fold up, fit close, but ‘all-right’?
My head protrudes, so I say, “You won’t close me inside, will you, Mistress?”
Predictably, a ball-gag is pushed into my mouth and harness-bands snap terribly-hard onto my head. Snap! I sit up, so Mistress yanks up my feet, propels the nape of my neck back, falls cuttingly onto the sharp trunk-edge behind me.
Soundless yell. Mistress duct-tapes my big toes together, tape-wraps my feet tightly, round and round lots more than necessary. She pushes my taped feet back in, scrunches my taut feet roughly down in. I shout again, nothing outs, not a peep. Mistress cruel-smiles, nods smug at my wide-eyed lack of protest.
Madge applies duct tape stickily to my pretty, long dark-red nipples. With one hand she pinches my nipple flat and with her other, wraps tight with her silvery tape around my long red nipple. Dull throb throughout my tit. Repeats this on my other reddish-ringed, long red nipple. Burnt-tit sensation. Tapes aren’t as unforgiving as clamps she uses. –A rebound-give– Mistress better watch out. This is dangerous!
Mistress tape-wraps each of my temptingly-large, fat, white breasts at their bases, tight, and a band around my shoulders above and below my boobs, vertically-tied in my cleavage connecting the two bands of tape, squashing my boobs, like a vise. It feels weird, deforms my full, shapely cone-breasts so my perfect half-footballs turn rounder, totally-pressurized. My beauties redden, ball-up, harden. My nipple-pain throbs sharper. Not too much new pain added. My red-ringed, dark-red nipple tits redden and will purple by the end? Mistress blindfolds me and pushes, forcing my head into her trunk.
An aqualung mouth-and-nosepiece mask is stuck on to my gagged mouth and nose and turned on, giving me oxygen! I hear the trunk close and it is a lot darker in here, with the heavy weight of the tank clunked coldly-pressed onto my chest-belly-thighs-pussy. I shift, manage to move the weight so it’s on the trunk-side partly? A part of it’s still pressing my tits, yanks the duct-tape harness pinching them together. My nipples are totally flattened, sending continuous dull pain-signals but not as bad as when they’re clamped with her shiny steel C-clamps. The air-tank takes up what extra room there was in here: It leans most-heavily into me! Why do I have this feeling of no air, when I can breathe all I want?
I can’t move my arms or feet at all. Suddenly my trunk is being raised. I can’t tell but I have been loaded on a truck? I’m taken in a vehicle for ten [?] minutes. Unloaded. “Splash!” Thrown into the bay! Now I know why the aqualung was added. Water seeps in! Soon submerged. The ropes get looser but not the tapes. I feel crash as my trunk hits bottom: Bounce a hair! Twenty feet deep? Panic pulls all my bonds!
With the sudden bottom-out jolt, the mask gets away a couple of inches from my face, water flowing over my face, cold and clammy, and I can’t breathe! I panic, ‘Oh no, I must catch it’, and rooting with my head, craning neck, pulling on my bondaged boobs and taped-down nipples zinging, burning and zapping terribly, I catch the mask onto my ball-gag! Drawing in breath harshly, some water seeps in too!
By bumping my head around gently and carefully, I settle it back onto my face by sucking in with my nose hard as I can. Mask snags onto my mouth gag. Only a bit of air bubbles out. Trickling dirty nose-inhaled water inching its way down my throat. Cold water fills trunk. I wonder if Madge knows how long I’ll last in this box? Pitch black: My grave had nothing on this! Teeth chattering uncontrollably. Skin’s blue-ish: Can’t see? Hardly room to move a muscle and tight ropes, tape prevents it. Some fit!
* * *
Madge meanwhile is out on the bank timing the oxygen, smiling and thinking: ‘It’s got an hour and a quarter’s worth of oxygen and I started Barb’s air, ten or fifteen minutes before submerging. So that’s an hour total, Barb lives underwater. Or maybe fifty minutes here, if I don’t let her out until I get the trunk back in the house? Happily reads her book for awhile, subliminally aware of slave’s torture!
Thinks gleefully with part of her head thrilling to thoughts of tied-up naked-slut Barb suffering, stuffed inside a sunken box! I’d rather not kill her …yet? Why? Body disposal is troublesome and very costly. And Barb is awfully nice-looking! Where would I find so lovely a replacement? It could be, I love Barb?
She signals the crane operator to raise the chain attached to the top of Barb’s trunk. Madge is soon rewarded by the sight of her live, dripping Barb-containing trunk rising out, breaking the water-surface, swiveling, turning toward her bank and dropping, thudding to earth. Landing near her, a hard crunch.
“Anything else, lady?” Asks the rolled-sleeves, muscular, cat-hat fellow.
“No, but you could send your trucker over when you get your crane back to the yard.”
The truck comes within fifteen minutes. While the trunk drains near-silently and Mistress grins at it.
The man pushes trunk, Barb and all, onto his auto-lift tailgate. It whirrs, lifting up trunk containing the slave-girl, still dripping wet: Driver manhandles it, this, that way, into truck bed. Slams tailgate, gets in.
“Ha, ha,” laughs the Mistress. Imagining gyrations of naked, terribly-tight-tied, slave-girl Barb bruising herself a few times more against the box’s insides as the trucker brutally shoves her trunk around!
Madge drives guiding deliveryman, he dumps the trunk to the basement floor. “Thud!” Another laugh. Ha, ha! Trucker looking at Madge funny.
"Barb probably felt that drop all through her tortured body, reverberating! I’ll bet her taped boobs bounced and her nipples screamed blue murder!" Glances at her watch. There’s a couple of minutes left. The trunk isn’t drenched now. A bit of leakage runs out on the floor.
"Might as well let Barb run entirely out of air." Madge normally rounds her house as on any return home, puts up her keys and hangs up her outer clothes. Except mostly she does it without this big grin.
Comes back and opens the trunk, finding a gasping, panicking Barb. Takes the mask off her face. “You’re in the regular air now, Slut!” Pulls out the empty tank. Next the slimy, cold, wet Barb. Standing over her, Madge cuts her ankles, legs, wrists and elbows ropes.
Barb is red in some places, blue in others. It’s pretty funny. Her fat belly, thighs and butt: Paper-white.
Mistress smiles but manages not to laugh, un-taping Barb’s large, purplish, bullet boobs and un-taping her flattened deep-red nipples. These places sore, Madge can tell by Barb’s wincing; better than being numb.
The slave girl falls on her, hugging. ‘Mmf-mdmg!’
Mistress says, “Let me undo your gag.”
Barb’s cold, wet, clammy but still near-beautiful, most-exciting…
Huffing and puffing Barb is very frightened, thinking, ‘I’ll live even though I’m frozen and starved for air.’
Barb needs both washing and warming so a shower is in order. Mistress cuffs Barb’s wrists to the upper taps and her ankles to the lower tub-taps. What legs! So mighty! Powerful big breasts, red-ringed and such dark-red long nipples! A wonderful creature! That pale fish-belly! Poking her: …Irresistible! Managing not to kiss. When the water is hot, Mistress, outside the stall, uses a long mop-handled, foot-square sponge to powerfully soap and wash her slave, harshly-scrubbing over and over, up and down her flopping boobs and heavy thighs, tiny round belly.
For reasons she doesn’t understand, she wrenches Barb’s body! Hard-pushing the sponge into Barb’s soft yielding body. Slut’s already rubbed bright-red on this side, now for her reverse scrub-a-dubbing! Mashes suds up, down around her back and up into her pussy, and her asshole. Yanking out, freeing her tool for a run-up and next, with all her weight behind it, plunging-in! Barb is cuffed but hits the wall! A too-hot, power-hose rinse grinds into Barb all over, twice. Hurting the bounced slave-girl mightily…
Fire-hose-like weapon hurtles slave again into the hard-tiled wall. ‘I can’t do anything!’ A silent scream of pain reaches up Barb’s ravaged body her hips-elbows-knees, her head hits wall, she nearly passes out!
‘Is it worth it? Some’d say my job’s nothing more than whoring: Yet what secretary doesn’t go all-out to please a boss? That’s all I do and if Madge’s needs are unusual: I’m well-paid to put up with her ideas.’
* * *
Gussy is a hairdresser who did Mistress’ flame-red dye job. Suits Madge’s hot personality. Madge explains, “My dearest Barbie, you have three darker-blonde spots in your hair, above each ear and in the back. I don’t like it, so you’re going to be fixed. We’ll have to bind you for your hairdo.”
‘Of course I’ll have to be bound’, thinks the bruised-but-clean slave-girl. ‘Am I not always being tied or cuffed for no good reason? And as for my hair, I’ve never dyed it. Why should I? It’s perfect, sun-yellow and yes, there’s a couple or three darker spots, but that’s natural. I hope Gussy is a normal woman, not like that weird “Figurines” crew, Lisa and Audrey.’
Gussy turns out to be a very tall, dark lesbian: Six-foot in heels with big brunette hair, in a windswept style. Knowing her occupation, this casual-wild hair must be intentional, no accident.
Mistress introduces me, saying, I need my corn-colored tresses to be all the same color. Not true! Gussy says that she will take care of me. Mistress will come back in an hour.
“Oh, one thing, Gussy, Barb is usually called ‘Slut’ by her friends and she is nearly always kept bound.” Mistress exits laughing.
“So you’re a submissive, eh, Slut?” Gussy says.
I don’t like this but I nod and sit in the chair.
“Don’t move.” She connects me to her chair with two tight elastic bands above and below my mammoth tits, saying, “A real treasure-chest you’ve got there.” [Sinister laughter.] Puts some goop in my hair. “Let’s bind you while that sets.” Gussy ties my legs, wrists to legs, so I can’t hardly stir! She gets really too-close to me – she’s got a rough, powdered facial surface – and binds my two tit-bands cross-ways together tightly in my cleavage with a vertical wrap. My boobs squash in-between all these straps. “You wear clamps, Slut?”
“Not if I can help it”, I answer.
Suddenly there’s a knock and it’s Mistress.
“Gussy, do you want Slut tit-clamped?” Madge holds up the hated, silvery C-clamps: Seeing my disgust, pulls out from behind, a bright long aluminum bicycle-chain and locks! “You’ll need help applying this.”
Gussy says, “She’s not going anywhere.”
Mistress kisses me on the mouth, a medium-long, passionate one. I’m not sure why. She doesn’t love me: That’s for sure.
“Nice.” Says the eccentric, big-hair, brunette hairdresser.
Madge unbuttons my top and says, “It’s going to be hard to clamp Slut all tied up.”
Gussy undoes her cleavage-binder and my upper and lower elastic breast-bands. As bad as ever if not worse, because of the burning circulation-return in my boobs! This is painful for several minutes, zinging me and producing pins-and-needles-going-away blast of flowing sensation! Long semi-erections.
I still can’t move my hands tied to my feet, bound beneath the chair, nearly off the floor.
Gussy opens my blouse and folds it back, letting out a long whistle. “Wow! Aren’t those something!”
She smiles and feels inside my bra-cups with her sharp fingernails. Gussy fondles my gigantic round boobs as thoroughly as any date ever did, squeezes a little too tight, pulls them. I tingle like when it’s a man having his brutal way with me! Pinches, twists, snaps and caresses my long, reddish, semi-erect nipples smoothly, looks me in the eye says, “Prize-winning tits you’ve got, Honey!”
Gussy tells Mistress with a ring of sincerity, “You’re a lucky woman.”
I feel like a prize heifer! Tits hurt!
Mistress says, “Slut doesn’t talk because she might be tit-tortured! Go ahead and take off her bra or pull her cups down.”
I am ashamed to admit they’ve got me a little excited with all their boob-tampering. Gussy unhooks me. Feeling my long, blood-red nipples harden crunchy-erect, says, “We can clamp her.”
Mistress winds the clamps down on my one nipple and next my other, flattening them completely, agonizing me! She attaches the long chain clicks locked hasps of two small heavy padlocks onto nipple-clamps. Pain flows! Adds the useless punishment weight-lock to the middle and to top it off, lays the coiled-up feet of chain and the heavy lock clanking onto my pussy! It feels like a ton! Hurt-spasms throb my belly-tits, protest! Can’t help.
‘Dazed, I hear their exchange.’ “What’s her bra size?” asks Gussy.
“36DDD,” replies Mistress. “Those are the widest aureoles I’ve ever seen, and Slut’s nipples are about as deep-red as I’ve seen too. I don’t know if her bra isn’t too-big though, 36 DD might fit better. Does this chair roll?”
”Sure it does. Do you want her somewhere else?”
”She has to set.”
”How about the vegetable bin?”
”Oh, is that what that is?” Opens a dark dank smelly door. They roll my chair in. Gussy says, ”What about her tit-bindings?”
Mistress says, ”I forgot. We might as well do those back up.”
Pulling my chair back out of the bin, Gussy elastic-binds me to my chair, banded above and below my tits, in my hanging-open blouse. Lifting my chain, Mistress obligingly takes and holds it out of the way, leaving the lock cutting horribly into my pussy. Gussy re-ties the two bands together with her cleavage-binder, squeezing my boobs into balls. Mistress gently lays her coiled, six-foot-long, very-weighty chain between my legs, painfully yanking my nipples down inches! The chain’s weight added to the cutting lock exerts great pressure on my pussy: Screaming agony! Despite my wooziness, I yelp: “Aieeee!”
They roll me in the smelly enclosure. My chair and I only fit. Mistress Madge and Gussy the hairdresser back out as they roll my chair against the wall, me moaning and groaning. Shocks convulse me up-down, I shake a lot: Feel buzzes jump! Rise of excitement killed by sudden pain, frightening dark. “Thunk!”
“Will it do?” Gussy asks, pushing me to the wall with a clunk, closing the door, “For forty-five minutes?
Madge’s voice I hear low, perhaps as she is turning away, “Yes, Slut won’t get in any trouble in there, unless the house burns down.”
Locking door noises, heel-taps receding: Next, total silence. I suffer alone, pain ripples from my squeezed tits, my locked and clamped-flat, stretched-nipples to my chain and lock-weighted pussy. I’m in and out of it: Hazy semi-consciousness throbbings, flashing red and black splotches in front of my eyes, not enough for me to black out. My tits hurt and won’t numb though the bindings should force me to cut-off lack-of-nipple feeling? Instead those locks and chained clamps yank on my breasts the whole time! Falling out and jerking back awake to pain, every few seconds to tight chair-bound stinky reality in my sharply rotting-veggie-smelling darkness.
Madge is upset with Barb for the first time since hiring her.
Barb gives notice she is quitting in two weeks… ”I don’t know where I’m going: It’s got to be an improvement!”
Madge fell in love with Barb! Recently, she began to feel she can’t live without her. She’s got to go? “But why? Don’t you earn enough?” Madge knows this is the key item in Barb’s outlook, money! In four weeks she worked she’s made three thousand bucks. Nobody pays more for the blonde’s services!
“Oh, Mistress, it’s not that, I’m all right for money now. Your tortures and beatings, they’re too much. I don’t think I can take it.”
“What if I tone it down a bit?”
“That might be okay, I’ll try it. But in case it’s still really bad, I’m not taking back my notice, I’ll leave on schedule. That’s the fourteenth as my last day. Here’s my resignation letter.”
Madge reads the letter, thinks, 'It’s as poorly-written and badly-typed as anything Barb did for me. But it says what she means, doesn’t it? I’m going to punish my slave-girl specially for acting-up this way. She ought to know by now! Barb can’t walk out and never will!'
I’m a blonde, a looker who turns heads, and I’m straight. My Mistress is cruel, yet she is often good to me, too. Madge likes girls better, though she’s a widow. I found out she’s a multi-millionaire, yet I don’t profit much working for her.
I perform bondage plus my secretarial duties, engage in lesbian sex until Madge orgasms. I’ve rarely enjoyed my sex-slave and pain-slut duties. My body is way above-average: Not long ago I’d a touch-up job done on my hair. It is sunflower-yellow, so I look like a great big flower. Normally my hair is lighter, lemon-colored. A couple of places were darker like corn or the sun. Mistress wanted me uniform, so I’m a phony honey-blonde. Don’t know if that makes sense. Men watch me, my glowing attracts them? Not that I didn’t get passes before, since my knockout knockers are outsize, about size 36-DD cups?
My work problem is that Madge gets worse and worse: She makes my tortures ever-tougher. Like last time, I’m tortured, left in a dark smelly cupboard for three-quarters-hour. My nipples and pussy take a week of lukewarm tub-baths to heal. I’m tired of soreness, a week to ten days after a bondage ‘scene!’
I change the parameters on my robotics machine to help me wrap, pierce and keep my slave. I order parts made, get them and her tomb installed. But it can all be done in time, five to ten days? In-between, I’ll assign both punishments and secretarial work to Barb, so she’ll be kept busy.
The machine does everything I want: The only thing is to make it stop short of murder. Machines don’t think like people. They don’t know how much Barb can take. At times she can stand more than anybody would expect and at others... Well, no-one can do without air, water, food or the bathroom for long. Except a machine; it doesn’t know those restrictions at all. You say ‘smother,’ that’s what it does. I gotta train a new girl all over? No way! Even if it wasn’t hard, I’ve grown so fond of Barb. My blondie fatso!
For four days now, I’m only a secretary, which is fine with me. I listen to the headphones and write down Mistress Madge’s dictation: Next day, type it up, twice. A whole two days of each. The only real mystery was the invoice I saw for the stone-work done in our backyard. That’s really expensive! A truck with canned food showed up, unloaded enough for decades.
The geek squad comes and takes away some of those robot-arms one day, brought back others the next day. Madge works with them, talking in computer ‘scroll-and-click’ jargon, I hardly understand half of it: I don’t want to learn more about her robotics system either, since it’s used to torment me! Torturers, that’s all they are! My enormous tits spasm, to imagine myself the victim of her latest robotics set-up. Whipped, clamped, pinched, my long reddish nipples and fat pussy-lips pulled-out beyond any measure!
Now Mistress Madge says I’ll be doing bondage tomorrow. That’s kind of disheartening, so I ask if it will make me hurt or injured for the last ten days I’m here, sort of reminding Mistress that I’m a short-timer. She says: ‘Not to worry,’ which is worrisome.
[At ‘Figurines’, in the shop window]
How did this happen that a gorgeous girl like me, is beaten while lying on a bench in a shop window? Mistress wants it. That’s the short version.
She paid Lisa and Audrey to torture me. They love to! A chained leather band encircles both my thick, curvy, white thighs above the knee. This bondage pulls my knees sideways up toward my neck. I lie on my back and my facing-up boobs - as beautiful as they are - can’t be seen in my new bra, supported by my new corset. Mirrors reflect my pussy, thighs and butt to crowd, my ankles are shackled separately, chained and pulled apart by Lisa. She’s behind my head, holding one ankle-chain and one thigh-chain in each hand. Tautly yanks my legs spread-out while Audrey spanks my heavy round bottom, rear-thighs.
I’m hoping they won’t hurt my pussy! No such luck! As the first double-strike of the spanker hits bang on my clitoris! “Ouch!” And my asshole! “Spank-spank!” - It goes each time as her dual-flyswatter instrument makes shattering sharp contact, crashing onto my pink flesh. Audrey wants to hurt me a lot, because of the way she winds way back each time, throwing her considerable weight into every spank!
I go to the ‘Figurines’ sex-shop store on Mistress Madge’s orders: I know the salesgirls Lisa and Audrey will be mean to me. Madge says I won’t be days recovering from what happens, so it can’t be too bad.
Lisa fingers my boobs awfully much through my blouse and bra, suggesting they’re too-loose and I should disrobe. I feel terribly violated by her pointy, intrusive fingers! “Rather loose on your breasts?”
She is squeezing my grapefruit-tits, pinching, twisting and feeling my nipples at least as much as any boyfriend ever did! Rubbing my nipples back and forth in her hard pinching fingers, staring into my eyes. Lisa’s kind of a yellow-skin damsel, brunette, tallish but on the slight side, perhaps A/B-cup tits?
Lisa palms both my tits inside my clothes and looks hungrily into my eyes says, “It’s what Madge wants that counts, huh?”
Lisa squeezes both tits a mite too hard! But I strip my blouse and bra slowly – I’ve gotten more used to nudity lately although I’m still uncomfortable: Displaying as fine a pair of reddish-ringed, large wide areola, long dark-red nipple tits you’d ever see!
“Aren’t you still overweight, Slut?”
My breasts are round and very white: Making my wide, reddish aureoles stand out. We’re still out in the store, so I suggest, nodding in its direction, that Lisa take me back to the changing room? I am half-naked in front of folks! Lisa grins and slowly dragging her hands down my full, naked boobs to grasp my skirt-waistband, pull me into the booth. Feels my bottom, thighs, crotch freely while I’m turned around!
I hang up my clothes on two hooks jiggling my boobs. My long dark-red nipples nod up, down, teasingly.
“I can’t help it,” says Lisa, licking my big areola, nibbling rabbit-like, sucking my long, blood-red nipples.
“Control yourself, Lisa!” says Audrey suddenly squeezing into the tiny space.
I soon find she’s wearing, inserted into herself, a double-dildo! It’s scary to see a dong sticking out of her, skirt held up above it! She wraps a measuring tape around my upper-chest, tits, waist and hips: Much-too-much touchy-feely!
Audrey says, “You’re only a thirty-four around here.” Brushing my subtly-curved upper-chest. “But thirty-nine around here!” Feels, pinches, too-hard, my long red nipples and circles wide, reddish areola.
The two kinks pull out rulers and yank out my long nipples, shouting numbers as to my length. I know the customers in the store hear and I blush, which makes the horrible duo laugh! Why must they pinch?
Next, the ruler is used on my areola, always a source of mirth because they’re way too wide! I find the squashing of all the front of my boobs against the ruler a bit painful! Audrey writes down my numbers.
They don’t stop but crushingly measure my entire breast, do everything all over with my other boob!
When it’s finally over, I take a deep breath, raising my rack up high, thrills them again and makes them convulse with laughter! Both stand back against walls! Make jokes, ‘Hooters balloon out booth-ers.’
Lisa finishes putting a 34-DD bra on me, which fits perfectly, much more so than the 36F I wore.
Adjusting the cups, smoothing my tits into bra-cups, is a pleasure for Lisa who bares her teeth in my face. Lisa’s feral mouth opens, biting her lips, licking them around twice: She’s really excited over me!
Audrey wraps me in a new tight, 19-inch-waist corset and pulls on it. Turns, squashes me brusquely, yanking it together: It’s small. My waist is twenty? Lisa makes corset half-cups display my bra-covered, yanked-up, big boobs stuck out on a shelf. Lisa pulls up the corset’s half-cups, roughly squashes seated my tits: Hurts only a little. My cleavage shades dark, deepens like a canyon! I’d be afraid with a man!
“Push Slut’s tummy in”, Audrey urges Lisa, which she does, with both flat hands square on my mid-section, smiling into my eyes way too close-up! I see Lisa’s make-up errors. Audrey pulls the strings tighter, ties them. “Now open her sex up, so I can insert this.” Audrey kisses my mouth while Lisa hunkers behind, sneaking ass-worship, rear-thigh-kissing [my best feature] spreading my legs, pussy-lips.
“No, don’t!” I whisper, but not convincing since they’re getting me hot! “Argghh!” I come when Audrey pumps and so does she: “Argghh!” – Without further ado, but very-difficult in that space, Lisa puts on the double-dildo, easily entering and pumping me: “Argghh!” “Argghh!” Audrey backstops me behind, pressed-up way too-tightly. Both Lisa and I climax gasping! [Huff, puff…] I’d fall down...There’s no room!
Audrey turns me, pulls down my new bra, not easy. It’s tight! My new corset’s only half-cups, it’s no trouble. She’s eating my large breasts, to my third orgasm! She homages my wide aureoles skillfully, tenderly, licking, sucking, munching and kissing nipples too. My eyes glaze, half-close, thrilled only a bit? I underestimate her power over me! “Argghh!” Three orgasms! Usually my rarely-reached maximum!
I realize Audrey wants me to return the favor. I eat her boobs, tasting her sweet-crunchy-tart, medium-brown nipples, pear-shaped B-cups, small for her height. Both girls are darker and taller than me.
Audrey orgasms from boob-licking and kissing. It’s rare? Audrey’s attraction: Unusually-sensitive fruity boobs! I can do it but I must have climaxed already a couple of times: Be revved up and very wet?
[Sore Slave-girl’s Return]
I am surprised by Mistress shuffling me down to her dungeon, but not so surprised at her removal of my clothes. I hardly get to mention my perfect bra and my new tight corset, before she strips them off me! My gigantic tits, pillar thighs and too-enormous, perfectly-round bottom are all red. She is sitting me delicately in the torture chair.
I ask if I can use the facility first. While in the bathroom, I’m looking pathetically at all my red shapeliness in the mirrors: Fine huge boobs, specially-globular ass, immense thunder-thighs? ‘How do I tell my Mistress I can’t go on? That I already quit, leaving next week!’
Barb thinks of the horrible scene in the shop window, when the bystanders outside started chanting, “Slut-Barb!” with each double-crack of the spanker! “Crack-Crack!” Pain swirls: Mixed with humiliation!
Madge is out there egging them on! My bra and corset undone and pushed down untidily, leaving reddish rings. Mistress waves as I scream when - my arms are pinned back over my head by chained wrist-bands. It’s a terribly vulnerable, open position and I flush from my face to my tits. I am breast-spanked very hard and continuously by the smaller-salesgirl Lisa, who has switched with her partner.
Audrey is now behind me: Holding chains to my knees and ankles, yanking each pussy-lip sideways, splitting my pussy stretched wide-open!
Sometimes Audrey yanks on the chains, one side of me pulling up, next the other! My body looks good in those mirrors as my thick thighs shake and my round bottom-cheeks jerk. My pussy, asshole, splayed! Lisa occasionally hits my pussy, thighs, rear-end, too: Above tawdry, crumpled garments, my red-ringed, blood-red nipple boobs get the brunt of the beating. They’re flattish, not well-displayed in this position, since they stretch out toward my neck and armpits. Yet you can tell my areola, tits and nipples are bigger than most: They still stick up an inch or two. They bounce, indent and recoil when hit! “Yow!”
[Applause! Because Lisa hit my nipples twice? How rotten!] Lisa makes up for her small size with her driving-tool ferocity! “Whap-whap!”
“Aieee!” Shouts and cheers from the Madge-led lunch crowd of suited-up businessmen and women! Their noses press up against the window so they‘ll see my tears and sweat flying! “Crack-Crack!”
Outside their mouths open talking don’t know: Salivating? By my pain I make their day?
“Now, Barb, you didn’t bleed and you’re not marked, are you? In fact, you’re perfectly all right. Only a little humiliated. The correct slave-attitude.”
Madge is happy with my performance! Caressing my chubby, round, upper arms. My head is down in more ways than one: I look up sheepishly.
“And I’ll double your bonus and paycheck, that’s twenty-seven hundred more you’ll get, nearly double your take! How’s that? And you won’t have to put up with much more torture after today, I promise. Mistress always keeps promises. What do you say?“ Kisses me passionately. Long tongue-action hugs…
Forgive me, I accepted, because without a job prospect, that money means nearly a year of rent to me. And who knows how long before I find something? It could easily be months with my poor secretarial skills!
I sit in the robotics torture-seat. Put my arms up where they are tied high and bent down out of the way, my ankles are similarly spread and bent back. I am surprised that the whirring robots dress me in latex. That they aren’t beating me. That I’m being hooded. It’s pulled down without any roughness. The bottom part, my ankles released temporarily and re-tied, I lift my butt for fitting on. But two vibes?
The top part is very heavy on my big boobs, but it is almost as good a fit as my new bra, only a hair tight. 34D? I guess, I used to be a D-cup but I gained a few pounds to an F, and lost a pound or two to a DD.
Usually Mistress wants to see my nudity! There’s another insert over my pussy, I don’t know why, until robots insert two dildos in my holes! Dildos vibrate, shaking my bottom, but each time I start getting howlingly-excited, my huge tits are shocked by the suit-electrodes! Mistress shows me a screen, where sensors chart my near-orgasms: I nearly had three so far! Chart-line dips down again with my shocks!
“Oh!” I got really-close, and the screen showed a higher orgasm-line on its graph, and that first clitoral-shock is an elongate, needling pain! “Aieeee!” The line, Mistress is pointing-out, sunk even lower! Now Madge is removing the suit-panels, the one over my boobs and the one over my pussy, the robot arms clamps my nipples powerfully that is bad, and stretch both my nipples and my hard-pinched pussy-lips, even worse! I pass out from the pain! I admit it’s a much-better place I go to, although it’s imaginary.
My mother warns me that her breasts got big early and what trouble it caused until she met my father. Dad is a butcher and only wants her to work very-long hours with him in the store. He never yanks on her tits. She married him and never regretted it, even though she has to have three varicose-vein ops. I never said but my Mom is twice as good-looking as me. She is! A vision. Helps Dad sell lots in our shop.
This rather nice back-home dream. It happened, four years ago, when my boobs suddenly appeared, nearly an overnight-sensation. At sixteen I take a C-cup bra, which means in any crowd of girls, I have the biggest tits. They even jokingly call me ‘Titsy’ sometimes. But it’s all in fun. My girlfriends love me, perhaps only envying my bright yellow hair, with which they want to play, brush and fix up, all the time?
None of them felt threatened because even though a lot of boys mostly hit on me instead, they all had their own attractions: A cute-pretty face, a sweet-petite figure or lively-sexy legs, I didn’t have those. One, the petite Maureen, is already married and to a doctor, a geezer of twenty-seven, twenty-eight. How she did it, none of us ‘old maids’ of twenty can figure. Maybe he’s a distant cousin of hers? I wonder about my hometown. Hot and dry mostly, boring, bleak, cold winters. …I can work in our store?
Suddenly a nightmare took the place of those nice girlfriends I’m seeing in my second dream-sequence, like Bunny, Maureen and Rita, my best friends, whom I nutshell-described above without naming them...
Enormous pain racks my chest, my pussy and even my belly-button! I see blood on the knife-tip robot-arms, my nipples have dumbbell-shaped brass fittings pushed through them! I’m pierced! My pussy-lips too! Three, each side. Mistress whispers, “Slut I’m sorry you’re awake for this. It’s the worst one of all!”
My clitoris! Smeared, bloody, robot-arm punch-end! Can’t see what’s happening! It feels like I’m cut!
“Aieeeee!” Blood is squirting, a puddle forms under my chair. The screen beeps! Flashes red: ‘WARNING! Life-threatening medical problem at hand! WARNING! No home treatment! Doctor-or-hospital called? WARNING! A bleeder, get it stanched at once!’ It says ‘WARNING! WARNING!’
Mistress curses quietly, sticking a dumb-bell through my clitoris! Cotton gauze held tight atop pussy. I am racked, incredible pain worse than ever, my eyes’ red splotches coalesce! Merciful unconsciousness!
* * *
I wake to find I’m in our stone tomb, the one they’ve been building in our backyard. I am lying on a slab. My sore nipples, I feel rings through them! “Ouch!” My stuffed-full and vibrating pussy is closed-off, ringed three times over. My completely-stuffed-full bottom is vibrating too. I can feel my orgasm building, with sweet pleasure-feelers being sent out all over me... “Ooh!” The last ring is in my belly-button? “Oh, no!” I sit up still not feeling all here, but I hum while hurting all over, which is a good sign?
“Aie!” I shouldn’t have tried to touch my clitoris! It not only feels pierced with a ring, but some thick bandage is jammed over my clitoris! Not tied, but still wearing the rubber suit including the electrode insert-panels. There are canned-food boxes and Egyptian statuettes, like a cat-god? When I pull at my hood, a hot shock hits my breasts and pussy, I fall back on my slab! “Aieeeee!” That burns really bad!
A new pain from landing on my bottom. I drove in my butt-plug! I barely manage to stop falling backwards, to avoid hitting my spinning head on the stone! My nipples palpitate, shocks ripple from my clitoris and pussy to all my thighs, down to my knees! Kills my orgasm stone-dead. Still have tools vibrating twice in my cunt and ass?
Why am I starting to feel excitement growing? Don’t want to orgasm. It’ll weaken and confuse me more! I reach to remove my lower cat-suit panel, un-cap my pussy, but stop, trying to be careful. Maybe my hood-removing attempt was related to my sudden double-shock? I shouldn’t try removal?
[Hears in her new stone home, as a Disembodied Loudspeaker-Voice reverberating from the ceiling:]
Mistress Madge’s voice says, “Do you really think you can leave me? You can’t: Every time you move toward getting out, either out of your cat-suit, or your tomb, you’ll get the same shock-punishment, little Slut!”
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