Slaveworld by Stephen Douglas

(Stephen Douglas)

But first, before she could be allowed to take her place with her fellow students, came the promised breast punishment

But first, before she could be allowed to take her place with her fellow students, came the promised breast punishment. Her professor looped two lengths of rope tightly around the base of each of Jenny's heavily enlarged slave-breasts, the white cord digging deep into her flesh, squeezing hard, and then led her over to a wooden framework. Like stocks, but with only two holes between the scissor-arms instead of the usual three; head and two smaller for wrists. Hobbled, arms bound and almost naked, Jenny let herself be led before what she was beginning to suspect was a set of breast stocks.

She was right. Mistress Phillips-Webber lifted the top bar and pulled Jenny forward by her nipple rings so that the roped groove in her breasts rested in the two semicircular depressions. Her teacher lowered the top bar; and snapped a lock closed. The holes weren't that big, and when the constricting ropes were removed, Jenny's breasts bulged out through the holes, the wooden jaws gripping her flesh tightly and holding her helplessly in place.

"Pull back," Phillips-Webber ordered.

Jenny obediently swayed back, gradually putting more weight on her trapped, squeezed out, flesh, eventually almost her whole bodyweight, but the wooden frame just creaked; holding her tightly. It was obvious to both of them that the large globes were squeezed too tightly, were just simply too big to pull out of the stocks grip. She was trapped!

Jenny's legal owner stroked her stockinged thighs, patted her buttocks and then stroked her wetness up from between her sex lips into her pubic hair. Her head firmly held up by her collar, mouth filled with gag, perched on her toes and with her elbows touching where her arms were bound behind her, Jenny placidly endured the inspection. The professor seemed especially taken with her tit-clamped property's waist nipping corset and ball gag.

"Isobell's right you know," Phillips-Webber whispered. "You really are a quite magnificent animal!"

Jenny watched with heart-pounding, fearful, arousal as her tutor prepared two bowls of water and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. Her clamped breasts stood out proudly, skin shiny-taut, the tit stocks' constriction forcing her ringed nipples to protrude. One bowl was almost hidden under a rising cloud of steam, the other full of floating ice.

Jenny whimpered and gasped as her breasts were washed with a cloth from the hot bowl; the heat only just bearable, like easing herself very gingerly into a scalding bath. The trapped globes were soon a uniform shade of scarlet; the sting still burning deeper long after the cloth had been removed.

She squeaked in shock as the iced-water cloth was run over her bulging breasts, the tit stocks creaking as she jerked and yanked back against the wooden clamp locked down around the base of each tightly squeezed melon, panting around her ball gag now. She squealed in pain as the hot cloth was applied again, the scalding heat burning into her flesh worse after the iced water, her cuffed hands clenched into tight fists behind her. Then cold. Then hot! The cloth stroking icy water across her flesh was dreadful, a gasping shock that drove the air out of Jenny's lungs each time; but at least the same. The scalding water by contrast, was worse with every application.

"My, Jenny! What red tits you have!"

Mistress Phillips-Webber pulled Jenny's head down so that she could lick the first tear that rolled down her cheek. She still had to stand on tiptoe to do it, the lightest touch of her robe on Jenny's trapped, reddened, squeezed-taut, breasts, exquisite torture, her flesh now unbelievably sensitive. Jenny wailed behind her ball gag in helpless, forced, arousal as her former tutor slowly licked the big, heavy, ring-tipped mounds, her tongue like a rasp. Biting down on the orange ball strapped into her mouth, pussy juices flowing, the breast stocks creaked louder as she twisted, but the wooden framework had been solidly constructed.

Gasping helplessly, Jenny watched her Mistress produce a thin stranded horsehair-like whisk through tear-blurred eyes. She whined plaintively for mercy, but it was no use. The whisk hissed down across Jenny's breasts, scalded flesh more than doubling the pain of the lash's sting. She squealed, yanking and jerking back against her own bound flesh as the whisk licked across the big heavy globes again and again.

Finally, as Jenny sobbed gently, the professor touched a shock baton lightly to first one nipple and then the other, over and over, clearly delighting in Jenny's high pitched squeals. Each shock was a bolt of agony that filled, engulfed, the trapped melons, Jenny doing a desperate dance in her hobble, but her punished breasts were still held perfectly still.

The burn from whisk and scalding water, melting slowly into her flesh from the outside, met a deep, throbbing ache caused by the shocks flowing out from the centre of each abused mound, nipples pulsing as if on fire. Worse still was her former teacher's bland assertion that Jenny would only be released from the stocks so that she could see the large, heavy, globes she'd been punishing quivering as her plaything sobbed. The next round of tit torture would be more intense and longer! Without looking, Jenny could feel her own flesh wobble as she trembled and snuffled when the top bar of the stocks was unlocked.

Jenny was then taken to her place in the show, made to kneel astride a pussy-filling pole-mounted dildo, electrodes clamped to her nipples, and began docilely fucking herself. If she didn't keep thrusting down on the shaft that impaled her, each stroke of which jacked up a little weight, it would click down and touch a contact pad. An electric circuit would be completed, and a jolt of agony would be delivered to her nipples. Her flesh on fire, Jenny had her first orgasm as Professor Phillips-Webber licked her whipped and scalded breasts again.


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