A tale out of Africa

A TALE OUT OF AFRICA by WickedSpin

We'd been in Africa for about a month. My wife, Maria, a beautiful Brazilian IT
consultant, was getting settled in, organizing the house, hiring a maid,
gardener and security personnel. The weather was warm and sticky, like an all
too hot and humid day in Los Angeles (minus the smog).

My work was keeping me very busy, so I was glad that Maria was helping with the
domestic stuff. Of course she exhibited a fair amount of frustration at not
being allowed to work in her profession in Africa (something about work
permits), and was getting rather anxious.

Over dinner, one evening, which the maid, Pane (Paw-ne), had dutifully prepared,
she brought up the subject of what she was expected to do, day in, day out, and
that with all of the time I was spending away from the house, she "wasn't
getting enough attention". It was a subject that I tended to avoid because I
knew all too well that she was referring to sex, or the lack of it. I tried to
keep my cool, so to speak, rather than get embroiled in the fact that my taste
for sex had diminished and that over the past year our "acts of intimacy" had
been at an all time low, zero.

At 35, Maria was very active, certainly professionally, before the big move to
this sub-Sahara region. This was going to be a tough gig for both of us.

She had hoped that after a couple of years of moving around the world on various
projects, we could settle down for while, and get back to a normal life, which,
in her mind, included a regular dose of sex and perhaps some children.

I was a 45-year-old executive in the oil business, so moving was part of my
professional lifestyle and I never had given it a second thought until I married
Maria about a year ago. Six months in Northern Europe, three months in South
America, a year in Saudi (that had been a record stay), for me it was as natural
as living in the burbs; commuting to and from work daily, and 'oh, don't forget
to pick-up some milk on the way home, honey'.

During the whole dinner, Maria was calm, but her frustration was becoming
visible; flushed features, higher-pitched voice.  I finally convinced her that I
had an idea, if she would give me a couple of days to think it through, and that
by the weekend I'd lay it out for her.

Pane cleared the table, cleaned up and left for the day; she would return at
08:00, as she did every morning.

We retired to our respective home-offices, though I had no idea what she'd be
doing in hers, probably sending e-mails to her family and friends about how
frustrating things were. What could she be complaining about; we had a
first-class lifestyle, even though we might at time be living in a third-world
country. She wanted for nothing: a couple of trips year, shopping in Paris,
sunning in Rio.

I sat at my desk and went over our dinner discussion. I may be a little
mischievous, but not mean. I did have a germ of an idea at dinner, but I now
began to plot out a scenario, which I believed would satisfy Maria needs.

Let's see: Maria is Brazilian, a people who benefited greatly from the slave
trade of the 18th and 19th century. She wanted to keep busy. She yearned for
more attention and a lot more sex. We lived in a fairly large and secure villa,
with separate quarters for the maid, gardener and guards.

As I pondered these details, the "germ of an idea" began to sprout. I sat at the
computer and started laying out what would be needed to make this happen,
surfing the net to capture some new ideas. By the end of the evening, I had
structured a simple but, I thought, effective program that would allow me to
focus on my work, yet provide Maria with what she desired.

Over the next few evenings, I continued refining and documenting the many
scenarios that would keep my dear Maria out of trouble and surfed the net to
find the kind of items that would enhance the overall experience.

On Friday evening, Pane prepared dinner, as usual. Pane was 23, nice features
and curves, single and totally dedicated to her work. By local standards, she
was very well paid.

While Pane left us to enjoy her simple, but nicely spiced local cuisine, Maria
and I had an opportunity to relax and exchange the usual "end-of-day
pleasantries". Somehow I knew that Maria was anxious to find out about my
"plan", but I convinced her to wait till after dinner, when Pane had left for
the weekend. Maria seemed even more anxious now.

Once we had locked-up for the night, the guards on perimeter watch, I suggested
that Maria and I get comfortable in the living room and that I would outline my
proposal.

In my usual fashion, I covered what I understood to be her needs, which she
confirmed by a simple uh-uuh, or nod of the head. She added to or re-emphasised
a couple of area, but on the whole, she seemed comfortable that I had identified
the salient points.  I also told her that she was beautiful, warm and caring,
but that my lack of attention was, in large measure, due to my focus on my work,
at least in the beginning of this long-term project, but that in about a month
or so, things would settle down.

Somehow her eyes and body language spoke volumes of incredulity; I guessed I'd
used similar words before.

I then asked her if she was prepared to make a deal, a pact so to speak, which,
when realized, would provide her with the level of personal satisfaction she
desired. She was hesitant, but wanted to hear more.

I told her that one of my fantasies was to have a full time house-slave. The
slave would have to perform all of the duties set out by the master or mistress,
without question, and would, for all purposes, be kept in bondage (figuratively
or literally) for a period of one month. At the end of the one-month period, all
transgressions, failures to comply in a timely manner, insubordination, etc.
would be tabulated, with the corresponding score used to determine the duration
of an extension after the month.

Her eyes were beginning to light up, as she inquired as to what was permitted
during the enslavement period. I told that everything was possible, save for
causing any permanent damage or injury. She was now getting visibly excited,
squirming in her chair. That's when I gave her the "coup de grace"; the one
thing that I knew would put her over the edge, one way or another.

"My wish is for you to be that house-slave", was all I said.

Her jaw dropped, but I also think that she shuddered for a brief moment, and I
bet that her panties were a lot wetter than before.

"But what do I get out of it", she said. "I've never done that kind of kinky
stuff before. And for a whole month?"

I knew I had her.  I went to my desk, pulled out a file and returned to Maria,
still sitting in the living room.

The first document I pulled out was a one-page contract. The terms were
purposely left simple, without the expected legalese, but certainly covering all
of the points I had mentioned earlier, including a table for how transgressions
would be dealt with. This was to be a binding agreement with no out-clause, save
for health or security reasons. This was not meant to be coercive, but entered
into of her own free will.

I then went to the closet and pulled out a tripod-mounted vidcam. I positioned
it close to the coffee table, clearly framing her and the contract. I told her
that in order to protect herself and me against any form of prosecution or
external pressures, we should record her reading the contract aloud, and witness
her signing it.

She brought the contract closer and sat straight at the edge of the sofa.
Looking at me, then at the contract, she began:

"I, Maria Lopez, a Brazilian citizen, of my own free will, with full knowledge
of the content and of the stipulations described herein, do declare the
following:

One. I have agreed that as of this date and for a period of no less than one
month, I shall faithfully serve my Master or any person specifically designated
by my Master.

Two. That I will discharge those duties as required, without question, objection
or complaint to the best of my ability.

Three. For the period specified herein, I hereby accept that any transgression,
omission, or other performance shortfalls will result in the application of the
penalties as described below.

Four. I will accept such penalties during the enslavement period as may be
dispensed and recognize that the enslavement may be extended, beyond the initial
one month period, depending on the tabulated score at the end of the said
period.

Five. I will not communicate the terms of this agreement to anyone and that I
will only beg for relief if my health could be adversely affected.

Six. I further agree that during the enslavement period, I agree to follow all
of the rules as posted from time to time, including but not limited to the
complete removal of all body hair below the neck and to maintain said hair
removal during the enslavement period."

She swallowed hard, and continued.

"Seven. I will maintain a strict diet and exercise routine in order to shed at
least 10 pounds but no more than 15 pounds by the end of the enslavement period.

Eight. I declare having read and fully understood the list of penalties that may
be applied during the enslavement period."

She then looked straight into the camera and said, "I agree". She picked-up the
pen and signed at the bottom.

I turned off the camera, joined her on the sofa and pulled her towards me in a
warm embrace. "I really love you, " I said, "one month will go by quickly, and
if you follow all the rules, it'll make it easier on you. The formal portion of
the agreement starts on Monday, though there are a few things we can dispense
with this weekend."

She looked at me with some surprise, yet I could feel her excitement and
acceptance of what the road she had voluntarily chosen.

After a few minutes I got up, pulled the tape out of the vidcam, picked-up the
signed contract and locked it securely away in my safe.

I found her missing from the living room upon my return; the sound of the
running bath confirming that she probably wanted to relax, alone, and finish
what she had started, bringing herself to a quiet climax.

Around mid-morning on Saturday, I told her that I had made an appointment at one
of the city's better health and beauty salons. She was to be  pampered, cared
for and take full advantage of the wide range of services available. I knew that
she was in for several sessions to completely remove her body-hair, including
her pubic region. By the end of the day, when I would pick her up, she'd have
gone through massages and other therapies, that she would likely feel like a wet
rag, and yes, experience for the first time a completely nude cunt rubbing
against her silk underwear.

Sunday was pretty uneventful, save for going over some of the key rules that
she'd be meant to strictly following in the coming weeks. One of the first rules
was that she would have to have at least one orgasm a day for the first week,
two a day in the second, until she would be climaxing four times a day by the
end of the month.  She obviously liked that part a lot, squirming in her chair,
getting visibly uncomfortable. That contrasted sharply with her reaction when I
detailed some of the punishment for offences, which included:

* Not reaching the daily orgasm quota: transferred to the next day + double the
quota for that day.

* Exceeding daily orgasm quota: excess number transferred to the next day +
double quota for that day.

* Not following an instruction: paddling, canning or whipping as determined by
the offence.

* Failure to effectively keep all body hair removed: possibly permanent removal
(discretionary).

* Failure to lose contracted weight: increase diet and exercise regime (from 1
to 2 hours per day).

* Exceeding contracted weight loss: forced-feeding until weight loss is reversed
to starting level, followed by extreme exercise regime until weight is at
satisfactory level (beyond enslavement period if needed).

* Failure to dress as instructed: deposited at the edge of town wearing the
slutiest of clothing - appropriate security would be provided to ensure personal
safety, yet without interfering in activities deemed necessary to "earn a ride
home".

There were a few other items, but by this time Maria was probably having second
thoughts about the enslavement, but I reminded her that she had committed to
this on her own, without any recourse, and that the tape could be made available
"to interested parties" to ensure her compliance.

By the end of Sunday afternoon, with only a glass of orange juice and a coffee
as her sustenance for the day, I invited her to try on a highly-boned rubber
corset, just to see if I had picked-out the right size. She was hungry, but I
insisted that she put it on before dinner, because it would less comfortable on
a full stomach. 

I went to bedroom closet and pulled out a large box containing a number of
items, including the corset. Meanwhile, Maria was removing her clothing, leaving
her only clad in her panties; probably a little shy about her nude cunt area,
though it didn't really matter either way as it was probably the last day she'd
be able to wear them for a while.  I moved towards her and wrapped the corset
around from back to front, I attached it using the twelve hooks, the corset's
loose lacing making the job easier.  (The corset covered her body from just
above the pubic area, over her hips, and ending in two semi circles just below
her tits, lifting them slightly.)

I moved to the back and started tightening the lacing, ensuring that it was well
adjusted around her body. I pulled at the laced, causing her skin at the back to
fold somewhat against the increasing constriction. She was taking shorter
breaths, but I still had not tightened it completely, giving her a chance to
adjust.  By the time I was through, she was beginning to complain a bit, though
there was still about two inches of space left between the two rear pieces at
the waist. I tied the ends into a bow and moved to the front to admire the
results.

"It's still not fully tightened," I commented, "but we'll keep working on that
in the days to come." The look was fantastic, the shiny rubber, contrasting
nicely against her beige, Brazilian skin. I figured I had knocked off about
three inches around her waist, providing a much more feminine figure, but still
not the hourglass look I was hopping for. The remaining two inches would provide
for that.

She turned and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She gasped and a wry
smile came onto her lips, she was loving this.

"I don't remember having this small a waist", she said, "at least not, well, for
many, many years." I agreed.

I took out the tape measure and circled her waist with it. "Twenty-six!" I said
in mock amazement, knowing that she'd be down to twenty-four by the end of the
second week and that a new corset, on order, would allow for a reduction to
twenty-two by the end of the month.

I took more measurements. From her waist to cunt, under and through her ass (a
little difficult through the underwear's fabric) up to the rear at waist level.
While I had the tape, I figured I take all of her measurement: hips, chest,
above and below her breasts, leg inseam, ankles, wrists, neck. In fact there
wasn't one area that missed the tape measure, logging all of the details in my
notebook.

"I'm starving", I said, "how about you?"

"Do I have to keep this on?" she said.

"Well, you might want to start getting used to it. It may make sitting more
difficult, but with a little practice, you'll get the hang of it."

"Well Ok, " she responded, unsure. "Frankly, I was very hungry before, but right
now I think that a small salad would be about as much as I could eat."

She put a silk housecoat on and an old pair of pink slippers. The slippers would
have to go, but later.

While we were preparing dinner, I noticed that her posture had already improved;
no more slumping shoulders. She moved around more slowly than usual, having to
catch her breadth more often.

I expected her to want to remove the corset bed.

"Honey, can you help untying this thing please, I'd like to take a bath and get
some rest," she said.

"No problem, " I replied, "I hope you enjoyed wearing it as much I as enjoyed
watching your much slimmer figure." She gave me a dirty look, as if I'd hit a
hot button.

I unlaced the corset till it was loose enough for her to unhook it at the front
and left to finish up some work before the week ahead.

By the time I returned to the bedroom, she was already under the covers, her
eyes closed. 'Another intimate bath', I thought.

An early riser, I was up at six. At a quarter to seven I returned to the bedroom
to wake Maria up. She was her usual non-compliant, early morning, gruffy
disposition. I told her that Pane would be here at 8, as usual, and that there
were things to do before she arrived. I prodded her further to get out of bed.

At about seven thirty, having completed her usual morning rituals, I instructed
her to retrieve the corset, but that she should be completely nude, no
underwear.

Somewhat reluctantly, she went to the dresser and actually put the corset on,
fastening the hooks without any help. She came close to me and turned, so that I
could help with the lacing. I went through the same motions, tightening,
stopping to let her catch her breath, tightening again until on a few inch gap
was left between the corset's eyelets.

Satisfied that it was well adjusted, and tied at the rear, I reached over to the
"toy box" and pulled out a three-inch wide leather strap. A simple thing,
really, I wound it around Maria's reduced waist, tightening it just enough, and
inserted a small lock into the available hasp. The belt was pliable yet sturdy,
with an imbedded wire mesh that would make it very difficult to cut. It wasn't
coming off anytime soon, and not without the key.

All this time, Maria was totally silent, save for the occasional moan as I was
tightening the corset.

I then produced and affixed locking wrist and ankle cuffs, and applied a
three-inch wide posture collar. She protested at how the collar was restricting
her neck movement, my simple response was to say she'd get use to it. The final
touch was a leather blindfold. The doorbell rang. Pane was here.

I told Maria not to go anywhere and that I'd be back in a few minutes.

I let Pane in. She wore street clothes to and from the house, then changed into
a simple cotton dress to work around the house. I asked her if she had brought
the items requested. She reached into her satchel and pulled out an old looking,
short, cotton dress. She told me she'd had it for over ten years and that her
sisters had worn it, after she'd grown out of it.

"As you asked, " she said, "the dress has been shared with my sisters and others
from the dance club I go to. My friends were really curious as to why I'd want
to keep such a dress; the last one complained that it smelled really bad."

"Perfect," I said, "Maria will appreciate how thorough you've been. The rest is
as we'd discussed: for the next month, I want you to focus on studying for your
exams, while Maria takes care of the house. You're still Ok with all of this, I
hope."

"Yes, Sir," she answered, "and thank you again for helping with my studies."

"All right," I said, turning towards to the bedroom, and my newfound house
slave. "Remember, from now on, Maria will be referred to only as slave, slut or
whore, and she must only address you as Mistress Pane."

"Yes, Sir. I will do my best to do as we discussed, I only hope that I can be as
mean as you'd like."

"Don't worry about it, " I said, "you'll do just fine. If there are any doubts,
just refer to the instructions I gave you, and remember that she wanted this and
that there's a sizeable bonus at the end of the month."

"Thank you, Sir", she said, a smile on her face.

We walked towards the bedroom, where Maria was still standing motionless. I took
the old cotton dress that Pane was still holding (it did indeed smell bad) along
with a pair of cotton underwear, equally old, walked up to Maria and told her to
step into them. She tugged them up to her waist, they were obviously two sizes
too small. I then had her raise her arms above her head, and slipped the dress
down.

"What's that smell? " Maria said. "It smells like someone's not showered in a
few weeks."

"This is your work dress, I replied, pulling the short dress down to just a few
inches below the soiled panties. I moved to the pack and zipped the dress up,
smoothing the fabric over her corseted upper body. It was a tight fit, yet
despite the dress' age, the thick cotton would hold-up nicely.

I then took another belt; this one four inches wide, and locked it around her
waist. The belt had eight D-rings: one in the middle, front and back, one on
each side, and two more rings, off-centred, again front and back, which could
then obviously be used to attach various implements.

I took her left wrist, produced a sturdy chain and locked into the cuff. I
threaded the chain through the front left D-ring, then the D-ring on the right
of her belt, then to her right writs. The chain was long enough that she could
lift her hands (there was work to do after all), but if the chain was pulled and
attached to the posture collar's D-ring, it would effectively bring both her
hands tightly against the waist belt.

As a last touch, I dug into the toy box again, a pulled out a pair of white
pumps, with modest four-inch heals, and had her step into them. A steel ring was
slipped through the heels, leaving two small chains on each side of the shoe to
be locked to the respective ankle cuffs. She teetered unsurely.

I stood up and moved behind her. Holding her by her shoulders, I spoke into her
ear:

"Now, remember the agreement, " I said, "you agreed to be the house slave for a
period of one month and to follow all of the instructions provided. Right?"

"Uh-uuh", she responded.

I slowly put my hands on her right breast, and found her flattened nipple. I
kneaded the nipple between my finger and thumb until it started to get hard.
Then, without warning, I pinch her right nipple hard. "That's yes, Master, you
slut", I said.

She swallowed hard. "Yes, Master", she whispered.

I squeezed hard again, "I don't think you were being earnest, so let me hear
again so I can hear you, this time."

"Yes, Master, " she finally said, in a voice that clearly betrayed her
predicament.

I removed the blindfold. Her eyes readjusted to the light for a few seconds,
then she noticed Pane, still standing by the bedroom door.

"What is she doing here, " she said, then, almost forgetting, "Master."

"This is Mistress Pane. She will be your trainer for the next month". Maria
tried looking at me, but the collar prevented any serious movement. "From this
day forward, until the agreement is fulfilled, you will address her as Mistress
Pane and obey all her instructions without question, as if they were my own."

Her eyes were getting moist, either because of the sharp smell of her new
clothing, or because her situation was becoming all too clear to her.

"You see, " I continued, "on my recommendation, Mistress Pane here has been
studying her ancestors' history. How the Portuguese kidnapped thousands of them,
and sold them into a lifetime of slavery in what was to become Brazil. She's
told me how they were abused and molested, put to backbreaking work for mere
crumbs of bread, painting graphic images of what must have been hell for them.
You, my dear whore, are to become part of her study program. You will receive an
education in how it must have been for those who left this country, their land,
their people, never to return."

Tears welled in her eyes, glistening her cheeks.

"Ok, " I said, "I have to go to the office. Mistress Pane will see that you are
kept busy."

I left the bedroom, but not before giving Maria a hard slap on her ass. While I
was getting stuff ready, I could hear Pane, giving her first instructions. She
seemed hesitant, not having been in this role before, but I was sure that after
a few days she'd start getting into it.

"I'm hungry," Pane stated, flatly, "start by making me some breakfast."

Maria walked slowly towards the kitchen, getting used to the new heels.

Before leaving, I took Pane aside, told her where the toy-box was and reminded
her that she must reinforce the fact that Maria was no longer a person but a
slave, slut or whore, and that she should be treated as such,

"You're right, Sir, I'll have to be tougher, " she responded.

I left for the day.

Around four o'clock, my phone rang. "Good afternoon, Sir", said the voice at the
other end, it was Pane.

"Hi, Pane, what's up", I responded.

"It's the gardener, Sir", she said, "he'd been working on the new flower bed all
morning. At lunch time, I told, Maria, sorry, the slut, to prepare lunch for
him. When he came into the kitchen I could see the gardener's, well rather
large, thing, Sir, getting hard through his tight pants. I thought it would be a
good instructional session to show her how men would take their slave, whenever
they felt like it.

"I then told her to get down onto her knees, and to, uuh, help the gardener
relieve the tension that was building up in his pants."

"Well, how did she respond, " I asked.

"She wouldn't have none of it, Sir. She said that she hadn't agreed to have sex
with anyone else, and thought that whole thing was disgusting."

"Well, she knows the rules", I said. "This is the first offence, but I really
think that you need to be tougher, otherwise she'll get into bad habits."

"What do you suggest, Sir?"

"First off, I think she's got to learn to suck. So you will look into the toy
box, and find a penis gad. There are four sizes, take the second largest, and
lock it on. You'll recognize it because it's black, short, and has small holes
for her to breath through. Once you've done that, take her to the maids
quarters. You'll notice that I've had a few alterations made. There's a heavy
wooden stock, for her head and hands, along with another one for legs. Make sure
that the stocks are properly locked. Once you've got her bend over into the
stocks, lift up the dress, take the heavy leather paddle, and give her at least
twenty smacks, but as many as you'd like. When you've done that, leave her in
that position. I have the key to the stocks."

"Ok, Sir, " she said.

"And by the way, " I added, almost flippantly, before clicking off, "once you've
paddled her thoroughly, invite the gardener to relieve his frustration up her
ass."

I got home at around eight. It was dark, but still hot from the day's sun. I
dropped my bag off in the house, then went around back to the maids quarters.
When I opened the door, I could feel the heat; the room was not air-conditioned.
I saw Pane at her new computer, my dear Maria, or at least Maria's ass, sticking
out in the other corner of the room. He ass was scarlet red, and dried cum was
glued around her hole, and along the top of her thighs.

"How many swats, " I ask Pane.

"Forty, Sir, my arm was getting tired, but the gardener was persistent and did
her twice" she replied.

"How was the rest of the day?"

"She, the slut, spent an hour on the treadmill, Sir. She was supposed to have
done the circuit in forty minutes, so I gave her one swat for each minute over
the limit, that's why it was forty swats, Sir.

"As instructed, I had her wear the double-dildo rubber underwear the whole hour
and, with her hands tied behind her back, her clamped tits linked to the front
of the treadmill, she was motivated to keep pace. I think that the heels might
have slowed her down, but I'll keep working on her, Sir, until she gets it down
to at most forty minutes."

"Did she orgasm?" I finally asked.

"Yes, Sir, she came at least three times during her fast walk on the treadmill.
The little rubber knobs on the inside of the tight rubber underwear must have
stimulated her clit, Sir."

I smiled wryly, and told Pane that she could go home.

After she had left, I got closer to Maria. The stench from the soiled dress was
very strong. Her cotton underwear had been left rolled down as far as her spread
legs would allow. I stroked her ass and could feel the heat left from the sever
paddling, though I was sure she'd be getting more as the month progressed.

"Are you enjoying the cock, slut?" I said, slapping her upturned ass. "You know
the rules. Disobeying them is not an option. The next time Pane tells you to
suck a cock, you will answer, 'with pleasure, Mistress'."

I went to a locked cupboard and retrieved an inflatable butt plug. Using a
little lubrication, I inserted it up her distended asshole, and inflated it with
several pumps. The plug had an outer ring, so that once inflated, it wasn't
going pop out, nor let anything seep through. I detached the pump from the plug;
it had a quick disconnect, so that no air would escape. I put a small cap on the
inlet and pulled up her panties. The plug was designed to balloon up inside and
enlarge at the base, causing her asshole to remain distended.

I unlocked and opened the stocks, then helped her unbend from what must have
been a strenuous position.

Her eyes were puffy, probably from many a tear, while her mouth was kept wide
open from the penis gag. After close to four hours with her mouth stretch that
way, her jaw would be hurting badly. I unlocked and removed the gag. If the
posture collar had not been in place, I'm sure she would have dropped her head.
She was silent.

"I believe that you've been treated fairly, given the circumstances, " I said.
"You will keep that plug up your ass until I remove it, and you will obey the
instructions given you, right?"

"Yes, Master. " she demurely said. "It's just that I could see that his cock was
so big, and I've not had a lot of experience with sucking cock, Sir."

"Practice, my dear, " was my comment, "Mistress Pane will ensure that you get
plenty of it."

"Yes, Master", she said, dropping her eyes.

"Now, take that dress off, but leave the underwear on, and go make some dinner."

"But Master, " she said, "I can't go out looking like this. Why can't I keep the
dress until we get to the house?"

"This room, dear slut, is your home for the next month and I don't want to see
that dress in the house. During the day, when you're working is fine, but
otherwise it stays here. So get to the house, and prepare dinner", I said,
raising my voice. I reattached the chain linking her wrists, through a D-ring at
the front belt. She left, her walk made more uncomfortable by the plug in her
ass.

I rummaged around the maids quarters for a while, getting a few things ready.

She was busy preparing dinner, by the time I got back to the house. It was a
delightful site. Here she was, standing in 4-inch heels, wearing only the corset
and greyish looking panties, the posture collar and cuffs.

I had her serve my plate, and told her to kneel next to me, while I ate; she
would eat later.  By ten o'clock, she had eaten and cleaned the kitchen; there
was no dishwasher - that's what maids are for - so it took her while to finish.

She came to my office, where I was just wrapping up a few things. "May I take
bath, please, Master?" she said.

"I think you need it, " I responded, "but we've got to clean up your ass, don't
you think?"

"Yes, Master. Can you please remove the plug, so that I can wash out my ass
thoroughly?"

"Removing the plug won't be necessary. Come with me to your quarters, I'll show
you how it's done."

She followed me out to her 'new home'. Once there, we went straight to the
bathroom, where I had her step into the bath, and kneel. Bending her over, I
opened another small valve located at the base of the plug. The purpose was
rather simple, if I attached an enema hose to that valve, the water would flow
through the plug and exit from holes located at the tip of the plug, deep inside
her. Water goes in, but only comes out if I detach the enema hose. A small cap
can also be affixed to the valve, ensuring that she keeps all of the liquid in.

With the hose in place, and a two-quart enema bag filled with warm soapy water,
I released the hose clamp, to start the flow. I knew that with the corset in
place, there wouldn't be much room for her belly to expand, so I didn't expect
to empty the bag.

She started moaning as the water slowly entered her rear. By the time only a
quarter of the bag had been emptied, the moaning turned to grunts. Halfway
through, the grunts had turned to pleading to stop, as the pressure was becoming
unbearable. I gave it another minute, unhooked the hose and quickly applied the
cap. A brisk walk, I thought, would help move the liquid around in her stomach.

I helped her get out of the bathtub, and directed her towards the yard, so that
she could take a few turns around the garden.

After about ten minutes, I motioned her back to the bathroom and had her
straddle the toilet. Wearing a pair of rubber gloves, I removed the cap covering
the water valve, and let it drain completely.

I repeated the enema, emptying the rest of the bag, leaving her with the full
stomach for only about five minutes. I screwed the cap to seal the water-intake
valve, her insides now very clean, but her hole left distended.

"Can you please remove the plug, Master?" she asked, begging.

"No, " I responded curtly. "For one thing, you disobeyed Mistress Pane, you
refused to suck the gardener's cock and you orgasmed at least three time today,
so, no, the pug stays in until tomorrow morning."

"But it hurts, Master, and it's very uncomfortable."

"You do remember what we said about complaints, don't you? Any single complaint,
add one week of enslavement, don't you remember the contract?"

"I'm really sorry, Master, I promise I won't do it again, but please, one month
is already going to be real difficult", she said, wetness forming in her eyes.

"You'll just have to bear it, now I need to get some sleep."

With that, I pushed her towards her 'slave's quarters', that's where she'd be
sleeping for the next, let's see, five weeks.

Before putting her to bed, I had her put on a large diaper and rubber bloomers;
I could tell she wasn't liking that at all. The elastic at the waist and legs
would make sure there was no seepage.  She still wore the pumps with the
four-inch heels, she was getting pretty comfortable with them, so I knew that
I'd have to change that in a few days.

She lay on the double-sized bed, on her back. I left her wrist cuffs and chains
attached to her belt, but produced a chain from each side of the bed, and
attached them to the cuffs. I then produced two more links at the foot of the
bed, and snapped those onto the ankle cuffs, leaving spread-eagle. Two final
chains attached to either side of her posture collar, and I was almost done.

The last piece, was a spreader bar to separate her thighs, this was she would
not be able to rub herself and chance another orgasm.

Before leaving her to enjoy a 'good night's sleep', I put a remote control type
device in each of her hands. These were panic buttons, in case of emergency. You
can never be too careful, but I knew that I could watch her every movement
through the night-vision equipped cameras, discreetly hidden in corners of the
room.

I kissed her on the forehead, and left her to think about the days to come. If
she only knew.



Every day, that week, Pane would get to the house by eight o'clock, leave twelve
hours later, probably more tired than when she had to do all of the housework
her self.

Meanwhile, Maria had been put through her paces. She had improved her time on
the treadmill, but by Friday, was still at forty-five minutes. Her
transgressions had cost her several paddling, two canning and one whipping
session. The gardener was now getting his rocks off on a daily basis and, with
the use of a wide ring gag, was able to orally satisfy him as well. She had
added another week to her enslavement period, bringing the total to six weeks,
but her worst fears were yet to materialize.

During the past week, she had reached from one to two orgasms a day on the
treadmill, so that by the weekend she was five orgasms short of her quota for
the week. I told that we could take care of it on the weekend, or she could try
to make it up the next week. She opted to carry it over. I knew that was
probably a mistake, because she was going into to the two orgasms a day week.
Her problem.

Saturday and Sunday involved stricter bondage, though I did remove the corset
for a couple of hours. She'd lost five pounds in her first week, so that when I
replaced the corset, I was able to tighten it further, leaving only a one-inch
gap of skin shown at the rear; her waist reduced now to twenty-five inches, with
the corset. I took more measurements, just to make sure that the ones from the
previous week were still accurate, save for the waist reduction. My goal was to
get her down to twenty-two, without the corset.

I also gave her a chance to remove the pumps and, for a short while, the cuffs
and collar. That really was only so that she could try on the full rubber
catsuit I'd received on Thursday. From now on, she'd be required to complete her
treadmill exercise and do one hour of aerobics, in the yards, under the hot sun.
She'd be able to wear black running shoes for that portion, but her full body,
including her head and hands would be covered by the rubber catsuit.

I'd had the suit specially designed with a special compound applied in strategic
places to let he sun rays through. Whatever skin was under that compound would
first burn then leave a lasting tan. Her tits, cunt and ass areas would be
particularly exposed, but the rest would be protected by the thick latex. She'd
be sweating like a pig, under that suit, the only openings were meant for
breathing tubes stuck up her nose, and a larger opening at her mouth area; this
was to be used during exercise after all. Her eyes would be protected by special
UV lens, giving her face an almost bug-like appearance.

With the corset back in place, it's removal prevented by the waist belt, and now
five-inch pumps, she had to learn to walk all over again. Her asshole was
getting uncomfortably distended through the repeated use of the butt plug, but
her complaints had died down.

I was to be out of town for the following week, so I received regular updates
from Pane, via e-mail or phone. Pane told me that her studies were progressing
really well, because she was able to concentrate on her studies at my house
(with her whole family at her place, studying in the evening was next to
impossible).

Maria was kept busy, as expected, and Pane did remark that by Thursday Maria's
tits, cunt and ass had become a bright red; all that outdoor exercise was giving
her some colour. She was now running a ten orgasms deficit, but it looked like
that by Friday night, she'd be at about eleven or twelve. I wasn't sure she'd
want to carry that deficit forward to the following week.

I asked Pane if she was still ok with I'd planned for Saturday night; she was
fine with it and had made all of the arrangements.

On Saturday morning, I let Maria out of her corset, shoes, collar and cuffs. She
was really grateful. She'd lost six pounds in the past week; the exercise was
working well. The continued use of the catsuit would make its mark on Maria's
cunt and tits. Talk about a reverse tan-line.

I reapplied the corset, this time tightening it all the way, bringing the rear
eyelets together.

For sleeping, she was now wearing short ballet boots. She couldn't actually walk
in them, but it must have made her nights seem like an eternity.

Early evening on Saturday, I had her put a new catsuit on. This one had a small
opening in front of her tits, which allowed me to pull them through. The
constriction of the base of her breasts caused of them to bulge. It also had a
zipper which went from just above her mound to the back up to her waist.

She was a little surprised, as she'd only been using a catsuit for exercise. I
then had her put on the ballet boots, adding to her confusion.

I applied a large diameter ring gag and secured it at the back.

I then pulled out a thick leather hood to cover her rubber head. It had an
opening for her buggy eyes, holes to allow the breathing tubes to be pulled
though and a large opening of the mouth. The most curious feature of this hood,
other than its sheer sturdiness, were two 'handles' located at about ear level.
These were attached to steel bands in a semi-circle around the rear and would
provide a very secure support. The hood was then zipped up at the sides and
locked in place.

Leading her over to the wooden stock, which now had a bar at waist height to
support her, I locked her head and hands in the upper horizontal stock, her feet
in the lower ones, then a spreader bar was attached between her knees.

Using a D-ring at the top of the leather hood, I attached a small chain that
connected on the stock above her neck. When tightened, it pulled her head back
to leave her mouth in an appropriate position. Two buckles on each side of the
hood, behind her mouth area, were then used to attach a thick plug, cutting off
most of the noise that would inevitably want to creep out. She was almost ready.
A pair of nipple clamps with several bells attached to the end would complete
the ensemble and stretch her tits.

"Now, whore, I understand that you have run up quite an orgasm deficit.
According to Pane, you haven't been very excited lately and you've now missed
thirteen orgasms." I continued, "I didn't think that moving these to next week
was going to be very productive, because you'll be at three a day already." The
phone rang, it was the security guard; I had guests.

A tap on the door. When I opened it, there stood nine, black, strapping football
(soccer) players and three of their cheerleaders. All of them, visibly eager for
a good time.

The team, sponsored by my oil company, had won the divisional championship the
previous day. The boys, or should I say men, eighteen to twenty-one year old,
were here to celebrate (and celebrate they would).

I had some beer and stuff laid out in the room. Bright lights were focused on
the rubber-clad figure in the centre. (The cameras would catch every minute of
the 'party'.)

I congratulated each one of them, their grip showed their aggressiveness. The
young ladies were in the same age bracket, beautiful and well build.

I gathered them together and told them that the evening was only a small token
of our appreciation and that I'd arranged for some prizes and, pointing to
Maria, some entertainment. The entertainment was somewhat obvious, but perhaps
not for the ladies.

I went to the bent over Maria, and unzipped her catsuit from the back to the
front of her waist, revealing her 'tanned' ass and cunt area.

"As you can see, " I said to the team, "this is a white, female. I can tell you
that she is Brazilian and comes from a long line of aristocrats. Going back four
generations, her family was one of the largest slave traders in the country.
They kidnapped thousands of your ancestors, brought them to the new land, and
made them work till exhaustion and death. The abuses inflicted by these people,
" pointed at Maria, "are well documented. Because of her family's wealth and
position, they performed unspeakable acts and got away with it. Rape, incest,
beatings were part of day to day living for your ancestors and these people",
pointing again, disgustingly at Maria, " got away with it for a hundred years."

The tension was palpable. The team's eyes, men and women, betrayed a growing
desire for revenge.

I continued. "This piece of white trash, whore, as she prefers to be called, is
giving you an opportunity to give back a little of what was taken away from this
country hundreds of years ago." Their eyes lit up. "To make this more exciting,
I have come up with a contest of sorts", I was now really getting their
attention.

"I have come up with two main prizes of a complete computer pack. The rules are
simple, the guys will get one point each time they've cum in this slut, while
the ladies will get one point for ten smacks of the paddle or licks from the
whip they bestow on this whore. As you can see, her ass and cunt area is fully
exposed, so guys take your pick as to which of these two holes you prefer, or,
if you wish, the mouth; the mouth can, of course, serve both guys and ladies,
but for the ladies, the orgasms don't accumulate points. What do you think?"

Smiles all around, for a moment I thought they'd break into applause.

"I normally would have asked all the guys to use condoms, but fortunately you've
all been properly tested, so there won't be any, how should I say, medical
problems. That doesn't mean you shouldn't use a condom, normally, but we're
satisfied that for tonight its ok." Nods and acknowledgements all around.

I put the music on, and invited them to grab a beer and whatever food they
wanted. I told them that I would leave them alone for the evening and that they
had four hours. I also suggested that they let the ladies start and told them to
take one token for every accumulated point, the largest number of tokens would
win. I looked at one of the ladies and suggested that perhaps she could keep
tabs of the tokens.

I showed them where the paddles, whips and, for the ladies, strap-ons of various
sizes. Maria was in for quite a night. I left.

Back in my home-office, I turned on the monitors and started the recording. I
could see them getting beer and trying to figure out who would go first.

One of ladies, with very short hair, went to the closet and pulled out a thick,
leather paddle. She approached Maria and smacked her once. Tame. The other
prodded her on to smack harder. What peer pressure can do, as she raised her arm
and let go a much harder smack. Eight more followed, increasing in intensity.

Meanwhile, one of the boys was moving in front of Maria's face. He noticed the
plug and the handles. Not one to waste time, he quickly unfastened the plug, and
let it hang from one of the buckles. Unzipping his pants, he pulled out a
modestly large cock, definitely already sporting a hard-on.

Maria was trying to say something, but the young man's cock silenced her
pleadings. Grabbing the top of the hood, he slowly pushed his cock inside
Maria's 'awaiting mouth'.

Meanwhile, one of the other boys was positioning himself behind, getting ready
to poke her. I couldn't tell which hole he was heading for, though he seemed to
be thrusting up, which probably meant her cunt.

At the other end, the boy had now grabbed the handles and trusting in and out of
Maria's mouth, his eyes closed, he was enjoying this.

One of the girls was playing with the bells hanging from Maria's nipple clips,
swinging them from left to right and jingling. The weight of the bells
compounded by the swinging was surely causing increasing discomfort, if not
pain.

The next four hours was an orgy of fucking, slapping, whipping and cuming.
Maria's ass and cunt must have been sore from all that humping and must have
felt pretty full.

The boys and girls also made out on the bed, in the bathroom, on the chair, but,
of course those didn't earn any points, nor did the pumping with the strap-ons.

I called the room at about ten thirty, to tell them that I'd be down in about an
hour, so if they wanted to shower or take a swim in the pool (after a shower, of
course), I'd award the prizes.

When I got to the yard, most had dressed, while a couple was still in the pool.
I invited them to come together and told them that we'd tabulate the scores.

While the last of the stragglers were pulled together, I went to Maria to see
what state they'd left her in. Her ass was scarlet red, no blood, but several
stripes and raised welts. She wouldn't be able to sit for a week. Her usually
distended asshole was enlarged further, while her cunt was red from the fucking
but also from when the paddle or whip hit the spot. There was some cum dripping
from her cunt and her asshole, but I imagined that most of it was still now deep
inside.

I went to the cupboard and pulled two large inflatable rubber plugs, one for
each of her dripping holes. They went in as easy as a hot knife through butter,
as expected. Each plug was of the same type I'd used earlier and had both inner
and outer rings which, when fully inflated, would completely block the holes;
they had the quick-release pump valve and a cap covering the enema/water inlets.

It had taken several pumps to fully seal her cunt and asshole and, with the
safety caps fully tightened, I zipped-up the catsuit, thereby sealing all of
that cum deep inside her.

Moving to the front, I heard sobs and weak moans. "Have you swallowed
everything?" I asked her.

She mumbled something through the ring gag; I thought it sound like, 'yes'.

"Good, " I said, "because now I'm going let your head down, and I don't want
anything dripping out, understood?"

I unhooked the leather hood from the top of the stock. Her head found its more
natural position, though I did notice some stuff dripping from her mouth;
probably couldn't really help it, though.

I then unlocked the leather hood and removed it, leaving her head covered with
the rubber hood from the catsuit, and removed the ring gag.

She let her jaw adjust to its normal position, and said: "Thank you, Master."

"Anytime", I said.

I then applied a rubber mouth piece that would cover her lower face, from under
her chin to just below her nose; this way she'd have a chance to relax her mouth
a little from the jaw wrenching ring gag and she'd be sure to keep in all of the
'young love juices'.

The nipple clamps were next. I pulled the weights and bells, hanging from the
clamps, and let them go for one final swing. The bells chimed their last chords
accompanied by her squeals from behind the rubber gag. Finally, she squeaked, as
I removed them, letting the blood flow back to her nipples.

Her breasts were streaked and red from either the small leather quirk or whip or
both. Again, no permanent damage, but they'd be sore for a while. Thankfully,
for her, she did not have large breasts; with less exposed skin, the damage to
her tits had been limited.

I left her in the stocks and returned to the tired, but anxious group.

"I hope you all had a good time," I said, "I'm sure that this whore will
remember this evening for a long time. Now for the scores."

The scorekeeper dutifully gave me the list. The names of the three ladies were
listed first, followed by the nine footballers. As I glanced down the list, my
eye focused of the two high-scores, one in each of the ladies and men's
categories: Constance, six and William, four. The two other ladies had scored
three each, which meant that poor Maria had, during the last four hours,
received at least one hundred and twenty smacks across her ass, not to mention
her tits, which hadn't score any points.

After William, one had three points, five had score two and, poor Mathew only
one. (I was told later that he had by no means been inactive, but had preferred
to help the other 'ladies' out.) None appeared disappointed with their
performance.

In announcing Constance and Mathew as the high-point winners, their victory was
greeted by a round of applause. I pointed to two large boxes in the corner,
their prizes. I then produced ten high-end mobile phones and gave one to each of
the other participants as consolation prizes.

While they were busy unwrapping their gifts, I went back to Maria; I had a small
job for her. I removed the spreader bar linking her knees and removed her feet
from the lower stocks. Removing the ballet boots, I applied a more modest pair
of 4-inch heeled pumps.

Unlocking the vertical stocks, I helped her unbend and gave her a few seconds to
stretch, while I gathered a monoglove/arm-binder from the closet. She moved very
slowly, unsteady from the ordeal she'd just been through.

When I returned to her, I slipped the lower part of the single glove onto her
wrist area. This was not a particularly severe device, as it did not force her
elbows together, but rather left several inches between them. It would
nevertheless pull her shoulders back and cause her breasts to jut out. I
zipped-up the glove and fastened the straps over her shoulders. I then found two
small screw-type clamps and tightened them onto her already sore nipples. I
couldn't see her eyes, though I sensed their pleading for all of this to end,
but reminded her, while whispering in her ear, that she had agreed to all of
this. Her body language betrayed abject acceptance.

I fastened an odd looking belt around her waist. It was unique in that it held a
large serving tray fixed to hinges at the front. Pulling the tray up to a near
horizontal position, I took two chains dangling from the front, adjusted their
lengths and attached them to the nipple clamps. The tray itself was made of
lightweight material, was supported at the waist, so it did not stretch her
nipples, too much. The tray was slanted upwards a little, because I knew that
with any weight applied to the tray, it would pull down on her nipples, while
still keeping the tray level.

Uncorking a two bottles of champagne, I poured the fizzing liquid into properly
chilled glasses. As I placed each of twelve glasses onto the tray, I could see
that Maria's nipple were getting more and more distended.

I slowly turned her towards the group, cautioning her not to spill anything. A
slight push of my hand on her gloved arms, prompted her forward. Standing now in
the middle of the room, each of the participants took a glass off her proffered
tray, certainly relieving the tension from her nipples.

Taking my own glass, I said: "To your team's success, and I'm sure that this
whore here, " pointing to Maria, "would like to thank you for your generosity
tonight. To your success." I was sure that Maria was not wishing the same, in
case I decided to throw another 'party'.

Once they'd all left, I removed the tray and the connected nipple clamps, along
with the monoglove. Without too much prodding, I told her to remove everything,
except for the corset and plugs of course, and told to clean herself up;
cleaning the room would wait till tomorrow.

While she showered and brushed her teeth, I removed the bed coverings and tossed
the spent sheets, crumpled from the extensive activities, into a corner. Taking
a rubber bed sheet, I secured it onto the bed's mattress.

When Maria came back out of the bathroom, I noticed that she was walking
somewhat bow-legged. All that fucking and the still secure plugs were making her
waddle. I told to get a little food and drink then, as I was sure she was
utterly spent from the evening, told her to get ready for bed.

Without prompting, she went to the cupboard and removed an oversized diaper and
rubber panties, she was beginning to understand the ritual. "No," I said,
"You're not going to need those tonight." She looked at me, puzzled. "Do put
your ballet boots and cuffs on, though."

Once she'd properly fastened the last cuff, I brought her over to the
rubber-covered bed and told her lie down. I attached the cuffs to their regular
tethers and applied the spreader bar between her thighs.

I moved closer to her face and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Did you like
the evening?" I said.

"Yyyes, Master", she replied. "My cunt and ass hurt a lot from their pounding
and I could tell when the ladies were having their go at it, because they used
much larger dildoes and were much meaner."

Stroking her sensitive tits and nipples, I said: "Are your tits very sensitive?
Do they hurt?"

"Oh yes, Master. At the start of the evening, I felt repeated strokes of a thin
cane against my tits, while one of the ladies was counting every one. She was up
to thirty-five, then I heard someone reminded her that those did not count for
the points. I then felt very hard smacks from the paddle on my ass, as I heard
the first lady's voice count up to forty. She was complaining that she'd wasted
time on my tits.

"I then felt more tugs on my nipples and more stokes of the cane, as one of the
boys was pounded my ass, having taken the lady's place behind me."

"Well, " I finally said, "perhaps if the team wins the next round, we can do
this again."

"I hope that the month is up before then, Master," she meekly said, "I don't
think I would enjoy another evening like this one, Master."

"We'll see, " I responded, gently rubbing her nipple between my fingers.

I reached down between he spread legs and remove the cap to the inlet valve.
While the small holes at the end of the plugs would probably be clogged with
their spent cum, some would likely leak from the valve.

"Good night, and sweet dreams, " I said, pulling a cover over her and placing
the remote alarms buttons in her hands.

'I wonder what she'll be dreaming of', I though, as I turned off the light and
left the room.

---

The next morning I had her clean the room, including the rubber sheet that had
covered the bed. A lot of cum had dripped out of her stretched ass and cunt
through the plug's valve, and she'd have to lick-up every drop before breakfast.
Needless to say that normal food wasn't so appetizing after that.

After an enema, thorough cleaning and removal of the plugs, I had her put on the
diaper and rubber panties, because her now well stretched ass and cunt weren't
holding a lot in.

I had a brunch planned for one o'clock on Sunday.

I told to wear copy of the football team's cheerleader dress, tight to the
waist, very loose skirt, covering frilly cotton panties, short white sock and
running shoes. (This way, her diaper and rubber panties would not show, though
her nipple would rub against the rough cotton fabric.)

She was obviously puzzled by the selection, until I told her that it was the
'official' celebration for the football team's recent success. It was a short
drive to the country club.

We both went through the usual greetings and pleasantries, had a cocktail and,
I'm sure for her, a much needed respite from the ordeals of the previous couple
of weeks.

When we got to the main reception area, the tables were glittered with ribbons
and decorations. Off to one side, lined-up like a wooden soldiers, stood the
entire football team, coaches, managers and support personnel.

As we approached the line, to offer our congratulations and wishes for future
success, I whispered into Maria's ear: "Your entertainers from last evening are
the last players in the line-up, separated from the rest, and the first three
cheerleaders. When you meet each one of them, you'll shake their hand say:
'Thank you, Sir or Mam, for your incredible performance, I was pleased to be of
service.'"

I was obviously close-by as she repeated this to the twelve partygoers, blushing
as spoke the words to each of them.

I found her fidgeting a lot during the meal; sitting on her still-stinging ass
must have been quite uncomfortable, though the padding from the diaper was
probably providing a good cushion.

After the reception, she spent the rest of the day relaxing around the house,
her asshole slowly going back to its normal size. I had removed the corset and
was pleased to see that the constant constriction, along with the diet, was
having a dramatic effect on her waist. She'd lost another six pounds, for a
total of eleven, trimmed two inches from her waist. When I took more
measurements, directly against her skin, her waist was now down to twenty-six
inches (she still had four 'real inches' to go).

I left Maria in her room, with only a two-inch collar locked firmly to the bed,
instead of the usual bindings. I had left the corset off, as I knew she'd be in
for more severe waist training as of Monday.

I retired to my office and turned on the monitors. With the night-vision
cameras, I was able to see her bring herself to a body-shaking orgasm within the
first half-hour. My recording of also showed one more midway through the night
and another just as the sun was rising. She was really enjoying these moments of
freedom.



Maria had now been kept in a state of near total enslavement for two weeks.
She'd earned an additional week's penalty from a series of misbehaviours the
previous week, so her one-month enslavement period was now extended to seven
weeks. She'd lost eleven pounds and two inches from her waist. The serious
training regime was helping to firm up her thighs and ass, which had become
flabby from too little exercise over the past few years. The effect of the
special rubber 'exercise suit' was creating a very unique look: her tits, cunt
and ass area were getting very dark, while the rest of her skin retained her
usual light colour.

The past weeks' training was also having an effect on her disposition, as she
was becoming more and more compliant, while her appetite for orgasms, while
initially induced, was increasing as well. Maybe it was all of the cum she was
forced to take up her cunt and ass, and swallow repeatedly.

According to the rules, as of Monday, Maria was now supposed to orgasm three
times a day. The previous week she'd run-up a twelve-orgasm deficit and had to
endure servicing twelve horny teenagers as a result. I was sure she'd keep her
orgasms in line for the coming week, fearing a repeat of her Saturday evening
performance. I had edited the video from the four-hour party, where Maria had
been repeatedly used and abused by the boys and girls alike, for future use.

Maria's days were spent taking care of household chores and any other tasks that
Pane could dream-up; she was becoming quite adept at creating increasingly
humiliating situations. As examples, Pane would have Maria dress like a
five-dollar hooker with all too short, tight skirt and heels, while the bright
red lips and makeup screamed 'Want a blowjob?', and take her shopping. Or she
would have Maria beg to be thoroughly fucked into repeated orgasms by the other
house help. Pane was beginning to like her new role and she got to complete more
of her studies.

Pane even told me that at restaurants, she would have Maria help her with her
chair, and only then sit. When the waiter would come with the menus, Pane would
simply say that 'it' (Maria) did not need one, and that Pane would order.
Anytime the waiter would bring something to the table, Maria would have to say
'thank you, Sir', not a whisper, but loudly enough to be heard at the next
table.



On Monday morning, after looking over the recordings of Maria's multiple
orgasms, I went down to her room to prepare her for the day. Unlocking her
collar from the bed, I fastened it in the bathroom, so that she could take a
bath and remove any 'stray hairs' from her body.

When I returned to her room, after about an hour, she'd already dried herself
off. As instructed, her skin was again as smooth as a baby's ass. Bringing her
back into the room, I attached some cuffs to her wrists, pulled them over her
head and locked them to a chain dangling from the ceiling.

I brought a white box and placed it on a table in front of her. She didn't
appear surprised when I pulled out a gleaming black and red rubber corset. It
was of a similar design to the one she'd become accustomed to, with a quarter
cup to push her breasts up, leading down to her hips. With her hands above her
that way, the slimming of her waist was even more apparent.

I applied the corset around her and began tightening. I knew that this one was
designed to eventually constrict her waist down to a very narrow, twenty-two
inches. She'd have two weeks to get there.

I occasionally stopped to let her catch her breath, but I was determined to get
her down to a corseted twenty-three inches. The overnight sleep without the
corset made this task a little more difficult, but at last I was successful;
about an inch separated the eyelets at the rear. She'd wear it this way for two
solid weeks.

I heard Pane coming up the steps to the room.

"Good morning, Pane, how was your weekend?" I asked.

"Tiring, Sir," she responded, "me and my friends partied at the club till dawn
on Sunday, and I just couldn't catch-up on my sleep."

I was working the thin, strong belt around Maria's waist and locked it on. I was
the only one with the key, so Maria wouldn't be getting any relief till I
removed the corset.

I reminded Pane that Maria was now up to three orgasms a day till the end of the
week, gave her few other instructions and left for the day.

By Friday, Pane told me that Maria was up to an average of four orgasms a day,
and begging for more. She was turning into a nympho-slut, begging to be fucked
by any cock that she could shove up her cunt or ass, and she was blowing the
gardener and security guards regularly.

During the weekend, I made sure that her ass and cunt were regularly filled and
let her get herself off several times. The corset stayed on, though her weight
loss was precariously close to the maximum of fifteen pounds, so I did let up on
the exercise for these two days.

She had one more week to go of the 'official enslavement period', but with the
three additional weeks she'd accumulated, she still had a month to go and was
now at a minimum of four orgasms a day as of the following week.

She knew she'd be menstruating as of the end of the week, so I think she took it
upon herself to get her full week's orgasm quota in by early Thursday, though
she was adamant about blowing the staff anyway.

By the end of that week she'd earned another week's enslavement, so she was in
for another month. I let her rest throughout the weekend, because I had some
interesting plans for her come Monday.



Rested and somewhat relaxed, Maria was now fully into the pattern that had been
set out. She'd wait for me to unlock her from the bed and get herself ready.

She was going to loose another inch off her waist, so I fastened her hands to
the ceiling chain removed the locking belt and began tightening the corset till
both edges touched. Because I hadn't removed the corset, I couldn't tell what
her actual measurements were, but I knew that with the corset, it was a slim,
twenty-two inches. She was getting used to the constant pressure, so she easily
caught her breath.

I turned her so she could see the effect in a full-length mirror. She was both
amazed and stunned at the difference in her appearance from a month ago. Her
ass, cunt and tit area was now a very dark brown.

I applied some cuffs to her ankles, then a spreader bar; she didn't know what
was coming, but the look of dread on her face betrayed her frustration and
capitulation.

Removing a box from the cupboard, I placed it on the table next to her. She
could see the content, as I opened the box; she gasped as her jaw dropped.

"Is that what I think it is?" she said.

I slapped her hard across the ass and reminded her of her manners.

"I'm sorry, Master. Is that a chastity belt, Master?" Se corrected herself.

"Indeed, slut, " I responded, like a mad scientist before his invention.

I hadn't invented it, of course, it was a shiny, steel, complete chastity belt,
designed for severe, long-term use. Severe in as much as once properly fastened,
it would prevent any contact with her genital area and, in so doing, any chance
of achieving her now very frequent orgasms.

"But Master. I won't be able to put anything up my cunt or service your staff,
as I'd been doing for the past month."

"That's exactly the point, whore", I said, almost clinically. "From this point
forward, you will live in absolute frustration, totally unable to touch yourself
as you've become fond of doing. The belt's design will allow for all of your
normal bodily functions except, of course, orgasm. Your ass will be plugged as
required, using one of the attachments provided, but no more thrusting deep
inside your widening asshole.

"This of course won't prevent you from sucking any cock, which will now become
your only source of pleasure. In fact, your former orgasm quotas have been
replaced by blowjob quotas, so that by the end of the month you'll be sucking
eight a day."

"But Master, " she tried saying, "there is only the gardener and the two guards,
how can I make that quota?"

"Easy, " I replied, "there are two other guards that work the night shift and if
that isn't enough, you can get real intimate with the grocery clerk or car
valet, I don't care, but you will make your quotas."

"I'll try Master, but it's going to be hard without any orgasms, I'll go crazy."

"No you won't, but you will be frustrated as hell."

I applied the belt around her waist, which would also effectively lock the
corset on. Pulling the crotch piece through her ass, I adjusted it so that it
fully covered her nude mound. Up to the nicely fitting waist belt, I locked it
on securely. Not entirely though, I added the special crotch cover and locked
that on, effectively sealing her cunt from any intrusion, obviously, but also
made such that she couldn't even slip a finger behind the shield to reach her
clit.

I heard footsteps approaching the room, Pane. I opened the door to let her in.
The look of amazement on her face was quite a sight.

"Well, Sir, it looks like the belt fits just like you said it would. It looks
both amazing and, very secure."

"It's secure indeed, " I said. "I have a spare key in this sealed envelope in
case of an absolute emergency, and I know I can trust you be very careful with
it."

"Of course, Sir " Pane replied, "it's going to be interesting to see how she
behaves this week, especially now that she can't cum."

"That's your responsibility, " I responded, "I've left most of the discipline
portion to you and I know that you'll do what is necessary."

"Thank you for your confidence, Sir, I'll do my best."

"I didn't have time to warm her ass before you arrived, " I said, heading for
the door, "so I'd suggest thirty slaps from the paddle to get things going." I
left.

"Thirty it is, " I heard Pane muttering, as I walked back to the house, "and I
want you to count out loud, slut."

"One, thank you Mistress. Two, thank you Mistress, " I faintly heard from afar.

---

When I returned that evening, I found Pane standing in front of Maria, a leather
quirt in her hand. Maria was trussed-up almost as I'd left her in the morning.

"Please, Mistress, no more", I heard Maria say, tears visible.

"Good evening, Pane, I see you're still at it, " I said.

"She was such a bitch, Sir, " Pane replied. "She was begging all day for just
one orgasm, 'just one', she'd say, and every time I'd have to remind her that
that wasn't going to happen any time soon and took to punishing her every time
she begged."

"Excellent, " I said. "Maria's needs aren't important. Are you almost through?"

"Just a little while, Sir, I just wanted to finish this session. I had the slut
prepare dinner for you, it's in the oven. When I'm through, I lock her down, and
lock-up, if that's ok with you, Sir."

"That just fine, " I said. "Take all the time you need. See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Sir ", Pane said, as I left the room.

"Goodnight".

I went to the house and ate a very tasty vegetable pie, a local favourite.

At about ten thirty, I turned on the monitors to Maria's room. Here she was,
shackled to the bed, wearing her ballet boots, corset and, of course, the
ever-present chastity belt. The thigh spreader was no longer needed, as she
couldn't feel anything in that area anyway. I turned the monitor off and went to
bed.



I wasn't sure what had awakened me: a need to piss or a pain I was feeling in my
jaw area. I opened my eyes, or at least tried to. I felt as if someone ad hit me
on the head with a hammer. I think I sent a mental signal to raise my right
hand, but the hand was not responding nor the left one. In fact nothing was
responding. My whole body felt as if there was a two hundred pound weight on it,
and I couldn't budge.

"I know you can hear me, " said a familiar voice. "You're still very much alive
but the tranquilliser will prevent any brain signals from reaching your body, so
in effect it's like a coma, though you're very firmly cognizant of every thing
around you.

"The drug affects your central nervous system and has been used by tribes here
for centuries. Of course it's not permanent and we can reanimate your body bit
by bit, bringing parts on-line, so to speak, as we require."

I wanted to open my mouth, to say something. Nothing, while the voice sounded
like coming from deep inside a cave. I thought I recognized it, but couldn't
quite place it.

"You're obviously very anxious, of course, to know what's going on. In the
meantime I'll release the valve here, so that you can take a piss."

I was in ecstasy, as my bladder finally drained, my mind lost in what would be a
normal biological function.

"My name is Mistress, " said the voice, "that's all you need to know about me.
You have been brought here as an experiment, of sorts, to help us test various
evolutionary theories. We know who you are and have been closely following your
actions since you arrived."

Recovering from my momentary blissfulness, I was now focused on what was being
said.

"You came here to exploit the country's riches, its oil. You proceeded to create
an exploitive situation, with your wife as a full time slave. You coerced locals
to do your bidding, including members of our football team, thereby attempting
to corrupt their bodies and minds with your money and gifts.

"You are a very smart man, " continued the voice, "but not quite smart enough.
You see, as I said, we've been monitoring your activities very closely. When we
first heard of your plans to enslave your wife, we felt it necessary to take
action in, as you'll find out, a very decisive way."

The voice faded in the distance, as my mind slipped into neutral and faded just
as easily.

I was awakened again by this need to take a leak. I tried opening my eyes again,
this time letting in a glimmer of light.

"You'd probably like to piss, wouldn't you", said the voice, as relief swept
over my body, the catheter valve obviously being opened.

The voice returned, this time from further away. "Open you eyes, slut, we've got
something to show you."

A sliver of light had turned to colour; a blue, subdued light, came into focus.

"Watch the screen, slut, you're going to love this", said the voice.

The blue screen turned to colour, turned to a familiar image of Maria being
fucked in the ass, while bent over, her neck, wrists and booted ankles firmly
secured in stocks. Another young, black stud was pumping in and out of her
mouth, while one semi naked girl used a small whip on Maria's tits.

The image was from my recordings; that night, at least I'm sure for Maria,
remained very memorable.

"So this is how you were going to corrupt our young boys and girls. Did they all
say that they were over age, or did you just take their word for it?

"Let me let you in on a little secret, " continued the voice, "not only have we
secured this recording but", as the image changed to the events after the party
and the awards, "we've made our own version, showing you clearly organizing and
orchestrating this whole thing. We have you from your first 'open and
confidential' discussions with your house maid, to your applying the chastity
belt to your wife."

'How was I going to talk my way out of this', I thought. My mind sending the
right signals, but my mouth remained totally unresponsive.

"We have secured all of your 'home movies' and put together quite a film
festival", she continued, as I watched the Maria's fuck-session unfold. "These
recordings along with sworn statements from the twelve girls and boys, would be
enough to have you put away for a very long time, in just about any country, but
here, I think that the courts would go out of their way to make sure that every
day of incarceration would be a living hell."

I could barely swallow, as my heart was in my throat.

"When you first began your voyage into moral corruption, you talked about giving
the people a chance to exact revenge for the centuries of abuse by colonialists
and enslavers. From this day forward, you will realize, as they say, that
revenge is indeed ours."

I had money, if only I could talk, I'd try to bargain my way out of this.

"We have decided that both you and your whore of a wife would suffer the wrath
of the very people your kind have exploited, even up to today. While her
enslavement will continue, she will not suffer anywhere near what you will live
through every single minute of the rest of your miserable life.

"To begin with, we have removed every single hair on your body. If you could
feel anything, you notice a cool breeze over your skin from the top of your head
to the tip of your toes.

"If you could move your tongue, you'd notice the complete absence of teeth.
These have been surgically removed, while a full mouth cast will enable us to
prepare suitable dental replacements. We have unique plans for that mouth of
yours."

She was right, I couldn't move my tongue, nor feel the inside of my mouth at
all. She continued.

"As far as your continued employment is concerned, don't worry, we've taken care
of that. Your employer has been advised that due to an abnormal stress disorder,
you are to be on a two months leave of absence, which has been dutifully
certified by our own, 'eminently qualified', medical practitioners. During that
that time, you will begin your journey into hell."

They were thinking of everything, I would hardly be missed. My mind went fuzzy,
as I drifted away again.

I seem to remember dreaming, images of Maria being fuck in the ass and sucking
numerous dicks, while her tits jingled with every swing of the small whip
against her breasts.

"Welcome back, slut," said the voice, now seemingly closer, almost as if in my
head. "I know that you can hear me, and hear me very well. You are now the proud
owner of a pair of specially designed hearing aids, which will allow to hear
only what we wish you to hear."

Ding, ding. Ding, ding. The sound of metal against metal. Then it stopped.

"You heard the bell, then nothing, right?" It was rhetorical, as I still
couldn't utter a word. "You see, we can turn off the device, leaving you to
absorb your surroundings. We can apply 'white noise', thereby masking out all
sounds, or we can communicate directly into your inner ear, like this."

No wonder it felt as if she was in my head.

"The device has a range of several kilometres, so that we can reach whenever we
want. It also has a safety feature, so that should you ever attempt to get out
of range, like escaping or attempting to remove it, it would automatically send
a high-pitched sound, totally incapacitating you. Only our specialists can
safely remove it, and that's not going to happen anytime soon. Now open your
eyes", said the voice.

I found it easier to open them this time; I was in a familiar place, the maid's
quarters. I could now move my tongue, though very little, as a large round
object filled my mouth completely.

"Don't get too excited", said the voice, deep inside my head. "We have injected
you with the antidote, so that you will slowly start coming around. You have
been fastened very tightly to avoid any sudden urges to break free, as we have
lots more to do."

My eyes were adjusting to the light, as I stared at the ceiling, in shock. The
image on the ceiling was in fact a reflection of a tightly bound form, tied
spread-eagle on a double-sized bed. The bottom portion of my face was hidden
behind a leather gag, which I now understood, as I moved my tongue around, was
designed to hold in a rubber cock.

"How do you like sucking, slut, " said the voice, "with the special dental
prosthetic, your mouth now has a unique and special purpose: sucking cocks,
without any chance of causing any damage.

"You'll notice that we have taken care of your nipples, so that when we remove
the special metal retainer, they'll stick out by two centimetres (a half inch),
and leave plenty of space for the rings that'll be affixed."

My tits were still numb from the drug, but somehow I didn't think it would be
very comfortable, once the drugs wore off.

From just below my distended tits to my hips, I was covered in what looked like
a heavily boned rubber corset. I couldn't feel the effect of the constriction,
but my breathing was rather shallow.  What I couldn't quite figure out was how
they had managed to reduce my waist so much,  That wasn't the end of it.

"How do you like you're new chastity belt, whore?" I heard the voice say. "As
you can see we've had it specially made to fit your considerably reduced waist,
with a tube designed to fit quite snugly around your pathetic looking cock. As
for the butt-plug, you'll start feeling the effect of that shortly.

"By the way, thanks to modern medicine, liposuction and such, we've managed to
trim 15 cm (about 6 inches) off your waist, and that's before the corset took
off another five centimetres (two inches)."

I was stretched out on the bed, and was beginning to feel what they had done to
me, as the antidote kicked in. Of course I couldn't have felt my cock anyway,
but my asshole was beginning to feel rather painful. As I scanned down my
hairless thighs and lower legs, I now understood why my feet were hurting; they
had been placed inside the kind of ballet-style boots I had used on Maria for
the past month.

"In about an hour, the drugs will have worn-off completely, " said the voice,
"and you'll feel every modification we've done to you in the past few days. We
want you to be fully alert and very sensitive, when we start the next phase."

'What next phase. What more could they do?' I thought, my eyes pleading for some
kind of relief. I waited, as if I had any choice.

After what seemed like an eternity, my hearing totally blocked by the white
noise she'd promised, the door to the room opened. It was Pane. Not the Pane I
remembered, but a mean looking, leather clad, whip carrying, bitch. Behind her,
dragged on from a leash, was my Maria. Still wearing the corset and chastity
belt, she crawled on all fours, anxiously following her Mistress like a dog.

"You remember Mistress Pane, of course, " the voice in my head replacing the
white noise. "Mistress Pane has offered to train both of you, but she says that
she's particularly interested in providing you the guidance and instruction
required.

"How do you like your new role, slut ", said Pane, approaching the bed. "You
remember your whore of a wife, don't you?" she said, pointing down at Maria.
Well over the past few days we've adjusted her training somewhat. She's been
elevated to the position of personal pet, and as such is several levels above
you. She even gets rewards for good deeds, while you, on the other hand, as the
lowest possible life form, will never see any rewards and will be punished
constantly. In fact, 'pet' here will gladly help in your ongoing punishment and
humiliation."

I couldn't believe that, she adored me.

"She's seen the picture of your 'indiscretions', we've shown her copies of your
'private internet chats' with countless women, and if that wasn't enough, we
showed her how you pilfered her bank accounts, for your own personal gains.
Believe me, she's just ripping to tare into you, you worthless piece of shit."

This wasn't the Pane I remembered, nor the Maria I thought I could count on to
save from this inferno. My tits were beginning to hurt, while the plug up my ass
was filling me up.

"You've probably been too busy to notice the other small modification we've
made," said my 'inner voice'. "If you look closely on either side of the belt's
vertical cover, though it'll be difficult for you to see very well, we've left
you with a permanent reminder of your status."

I looked more closely at the area just below the corset, the exposed skin on
either side of the cock cover. My heart sank, as I made out what had been
clearly tattooed.

"On the one side," said the voice, " the word SLUT and, though a little harder
for you to see in the ceiling mirror, on the other side: 'Property of Mistress
Pane'."

I was hoping they'd just used felt markers, but the burning sensation around
that area confirmed otherwise. Public showers were definitely a thing of the
past.

"And, while you can't see it, " she continued, "we've similarly tattooed you ass
with two more bold statements: FUCK ME and WHIP ME. Those are far less discreet,
they'll be seen from several meters away, and clearly an open invitation to one
and all."

They had caused irreparable damage. What was I supposed to do? I wouldn't be
able to show up in public again, I thought.

With a yank on the leash, Pane told Maria to get me ready. She got up,
approached the bed, her eyes searing with hatred.

She unfastened my right hand from the top of the bed and attached it to a ring
on the chastity belt. She did the same with the left one. She then unfastened my
left ankle from the chain bolted to the bed frame, then, using a short chain,
linked my left ankle to the right one. Only then did she unfasten my right ankle
from the bed.

She then attached a leash to a stiff collar around my neck and pulled me to
stand precariously on the ballet boots. I kept leaning against the bad,
preventing from falling flat on my face. With a little prompting and support, I
was pulled over to the stocks, where Maria had spent countless hours over the
past thirty days.

Bending me over the horizontal bar, she place my head in the centre receptacle,
then one at a time, placed my wrists, before lowering the locking top portion.
My ankles were separated and inserted into widely spaced stock as well.

Pane said, "'pet' here, is going to warm your ass up real nice for all of us to
see. She's committed to giving back to you what she experienced during the last
month."

Smack. It started, without warning. Smack again. Pane had said that fifty was a
good number to start with. Smack.

I could only grunt through the thick rubber cock gag, while tears rolled down my
cheeks. My ass was burning, as if someone was holding a blowtorch to it.

"We'll continue this later, " said Pane, finally, then the white noise filled my
head.

Much later (I'd lost track of time, so I didn't know what time of day it was or
in fact what day), the voice inside my head woke me up from a daze.

"Wake-up, slut. Are you hungry? You must be, you've been on intravenous for the
past several days, so we though we'd get you some real nourishment."

From the corner of my eye, I saw a form approach. Pane was holding a thick
rubber hood, similar to the one I'd used on Maria during her wild evening with
the football team. While she was unbuckling the gag, the voice said: "if you say
one word, or make one sound, we will castrate you here and now. Is that
understood?" I nodded in the affirmative.

As the cock gag was removed, my tongue rolled around my mouth, trying to feel
where my teeth used to be. What I felt instead was thick, padded rubber affixed
to my gums. I now understood the fiendishness of the prosthetic: it kept my
mouth open, while allowing for the entry of 'foreign objects'. Essentially, if I
could have seen it, it probably would have looked like the inside of a cunt.

The rubber hood was unceremoniously applied to my head, followed by the leather
contraption I'd applied to Maria: the handles. My face was to become a fuck
hole.

I could barely see through the bug like eye covers, and a few minutes later, I
could detect the unmistakable smell, as a large, hairy black cock approached.

"This man is one of the pipeline workers", said the voice. "He's been working on
the project for the past month with very little 'entertainment', in fact being
treated as if he was slave labour."

I couldn't imagine how I was going to get though this. Sucking cock was not one
of my fantasies.

"He's brought twenty seven of his buddies with him, all of who have been kept
similarly busy over the last several weeks, working at less than minimum wage
and in bad conditions. We told them that they'd get paid to fuck your pathetic
mouth, fifty bucks for each load they pump down your throat, so you see they're
quite horny and quite eager. Don't worry this is coming out of your wallet, so
in fact you're paying to have yourself filled with these men's cum."

No warning, just a deep thrust inside my mouth, his sweaty hands gripping the
handles located on both sides of my head. Pumping furiously. He obviously wasn't
going for quality, because his goal was to do this as many time as he could.

I don't know how many times the first one took or how many times he pumped in
and out, but the salty taste of his cum almost made me gag. When he was spent,
he was quickly replaced by the next worker. Pumping, swallowing, pumping.

"Twenty-nine hundred dollars, I'm sure you won't miss it. These boys must have
dumped quite a load down your throat. Fifty-eight times they pumped and came.
You must be full, now", said the voice, as the cock gag was strapped back in.
"We promised them that they could do it again next month and offered a reward of
a hundred dollars for each other 'guest' they brought to the party. For the sake
of efficiency, we told them that we'd make two holes available to them next
time."

I was indeed full. Fifty-eight cocks had dumped their jism into me. Fifty-eight,
this time, how many more could I take? And, were they referring to my ass as the
'second hole'?

A month went by, but it felt like an eternity. Every day I was whipped, forced
to dress in a ridiculous maids outfit to clean the house from top to bottom,
while my asshole was filled with increasingly larger butt plugs. The ballet
boots were applied every night, though during the day my feet were pressed into
leather pumps with four-inch heels, to match the maid's dress. All this time I
was not allowed to speak and was kept gag most of the time. I'd pretty much
given-up on solid foods, as my appetite was lost due to the constriction of the
corset, and I didn't have any teeth anyway. So what I got looked (and probably
tasted) like baby food, but at least it kept my energy level up.

The pipeline workers returned, with plenty of 'friends'. Fastened into the
stocks again, this time for a whole weekend. I was forced to take them all on at
least two or three times each. I had lost count of how many had reamed my
asshole or came in my mouth, but in the end it had cost me over five thousand
dollars.

I had been forced to retain the cum in my asshole, and obviously what I'd
swallowed, until Monday morning, and only then was I given a thorough cleaning
and several enemas.

By the end of the next month, I was getting more than concerned by the way my
tits were shaping up. The special nipple trainers had been removed and thick
rings affixed through the now distended nipples. More surprising was how I
thought that my breasts had grown. At first I thought it was the effect of the
corset, but I was later told that I was being given special hormones that would,
in time, 'soften me up' and give me a much more "acceptable shape".

My breast were, of course, still very small, but obvious nerveless. I had no
doubt that they would continue to expand, if the hormone treatment continued.
They also seemingly made for more tempting targets for Pane and Maria's small
whips. My ass didn't escape the continued torment, as I was whipped or paddles
constantly.

They now thought I was ready to return to work, something about keeping the
money flowing. The thought of going to work was mixture of both joy and
consternation. I would be happy to stop the daily humiliation of the maid's
duties and the constant abuse, but what kind of freak would I look like. The
answers came quickly enough.

When I was told to change into my 'work cloth', I was first given underwear
comprised of a full size diaper covered by a tight fitting pair of rubber
panties. With the butt plug removed, my now extended asshole would have no way
of retaining anything.

The next item looked like a one-piece white women's aerobic suit, with the top
part looking like a tight T-shirt; this only served to highlight my budding
breasts and nipples. The material was thick, with just enough stretchiness to
get over my ass and up to where my arms would go. It wasn't uncomfortable, but
it was meant to hug my body from my crotch area to the bottom of my neck.

I was next given a pair of thick, black and opaque pantyhose (they didn't what
me to wear socks, so the tights would serve that purpose).

The pants came next. They were sort of loose fitting around the butt and crotch
area, but were tapered at the top to fit against my corseted waist. The normal
fly front was inoperable, as they felt it was not required, so instead a zipper
on the right side, hidden in the seam, would keep the pants up. Belts loops were
not required either, as the tapered fit was enough, though a locking belt was
put through the unnecessary loops to make sure that only they could remove them.

I was finally given a loose fitting cotton shirt that would hang over the top of
the pants to just below my hips. Adding the shoes completed the ensemble and I
was almost 'ready for work'.

The cunt-shaped dental prosthetic was replaced by a denture that looked like my
real teeth, without some of the former defects. My head would stay completely
bald, and I was thankful that they'd taken the time to have me work outside over
the past few months so that my head had taken a 'healthy' glow.

I was getting used to the constriction of the corset and had been able to move
around quite freely. The addition of the diaper, 'underwear and stocking did
feel rather unusual, though.

Just before sending me off on my first day of work in over two months, they
issued their final warnings about telling anybody of my new standing in life or
about wandering off beyond the range of my work area.

My secretary had been with me from the start. I had hired her locally and she
was very efficient and, though not a hiring criteria, very good looking. Pamela
Drucker.

She greeted me with a smile and asked if I was well rested and ready for the
mountain of work that had piled up. Though probably a little flush, I told her
that I was glad to be back and that I would work through the day to catch up. I
had had to have several meetings, always very conscious of whether anyone could
see the transformation that I wore under my normal looking clothe. I had to pee
several times and would go to the bathroom in one of the stalls, to piss into my
diaper. The wetness was somewhat uncomfortable, but with the added material I
couldn't feel a whole lot.

At about five o'clock, my secretary came into my office, as she'd often done in
the past, to get an update on my plans and schedule. Closing the door behind her
(it was a very noisy office), she walked over to stand in front of my desk.

"Have you caught-up on everything, " she asked.

"Hardly, " I answered, "but I did make a dent in the pile of stuff that'd been
left for me.

"That's good, " she said, "cause I have something else for you to do".

"Sure, " I responded, lifting my head to look at her.

"Good, I'm glad to hear that, because, slut, I want you to first come here on
you hands and knees, and kiss my feet."

"What!" I quickly said.

"That's 'What, Mistress', you filthy whore", as she reach over the desk and
slapped my face, hard. "Word had gotten around about your new role in life. As a
worthless slut you will obey or you will be further punished and publicly
humiliated. Is that what you want?"

"No, Mistress."

"So, what are you waiting for, or do I have to repeat myself?"

I got down on my knees and crawled to where she stood, my head bowed.

"May I kiss you feet, Mistress?" I 'begged'.

"That's better, but you're not quite ready for my feet yet. First I want to lick
my shoes. I want the top to be free of dust, and the underside as well."

She sat down and presented me her right foot. I licked the top till the patent
leather was gleaming, then the sole and heels. I did the same with the other
shoe. It was disgusting.

As if that wasn't enough, before letting me leave for the day, she had me lean
against the desk and gave me twenty whacks on the ass with a long, thick ruler.
The ride back to my (their) house was painful indeed, as my stinging ass bumped
against the seat on the irregular roads.

When I got home, I was unceremoniously stripped of my outer and underwear, told
to clean myself up then to put on the rubber maids outfit with four-inch pumps;
there was dinner to make and a house to clean. It was past midnight by the time
I was strapped down to my bed, uncomfortable as it was, my butt plugged again,
and forced to wear the cunt-like dental prosthetic along with a long penis gag
(with breathing hole, of course).

The next six months was more of the same. The corset had been changed for a
smaller one with a narrower waist and my breasts had grown out more, looking
less and less like budding breasts and, I thought, much more obvious.

My poor cock had been imprisoned for over eight months. While the belt had been
removed on a monthly basis for inspection, I had been kept blindfolded during
the process and a local anaesthetic had been applied to the area to ensure that
I felt absolutely nothing.

Maria had become my hosts' very pliable slave, never hesitating to administer
whatever punishment they had conceived for me.

The pipeline workers now had a monthly fuck-o-thon, with me as their 'willing'
whore. I was always masked and kept in some sort of restrictive bondage during
their well-paid sessions. Productivity was up, but my bankbook was down.

My secretary now expected (and received) a daily tongue-job from me, except for
four days a month when I would spend the time giving her a head-to-toe tongue
bath, while I was blindfolded, with both hands tied behind my back.

A year after my ordeal had begun, my breasts had now grown out to about a B cup
and becoming next to impossible to conceal. My waist was down to a trim sixty
centimetres (a little less than twenty-four inches), while the hormones had had
the effect of adding additional flesh to my butt and hips. I still wore the
rubber corset, and the chastity belt was a constant reminder of my chaste
condition.

I had begun noticing slight changes to my voice; I was beginning to sound like a
teenage boy who's voice is changing. The exercise regime had trimmed most of the
excess fat from my arms and legs, and my muscle tone had become decidedly less
robust.

Every weekday I'd be transformed into an oil company executive, making the tough
decisions, raking in the money (for them), while the evenings and weekends I was
their maid, fuck-hole and general whipping boy/girl.

On one particular occasion, Pane had dragged me to a fetish party attended by
many of my office colleagues. With my face hidden behind a thick rubber hood, my
lower body squeezed into a long, rubber hobble-skirt to match my corset and my
growing naked breasts simply adorned by the permanent rings piercing my nipples,
I was to be part of the evening's entertainment. With the thick skirt wrapped
tightly around my butt, the 'guests' took great pleasure in paddling my ass. If
I'd been able to speak, I'd have begged and pleaded for them to stop after fifty
whacks, but instead had to suffer while they administered a hundred. Several of
the male guests demanded blowjobs, so my unwilling, but suitably equipped mouth
was pressed into service.

At the end of the evening, Pane offered to auction my services for a full
weekend to the highest bidder, either male or female, to do as they pleased. The
auction raised a considerable sum of money, ostensibly to be used to help defray
the costs of these parties. In the end, my services were purchased by a rather,
let's call her, large boned woman. Not really grossly overweight, but it was
clear that the very tight leather clothing she wore, served not only to project
a clear fetish for this second skin but to hold-in what looked like two hundred
pounds or so of a mean, tough-looking, fuck-men-over-anytime-you-can, bitch.

She was told that I would be delivered the following Friday night and, save for
returning me in one piece, without any permanent injury, anything and everything
was possible.

I just stood there, arms tied tightly behind me, cum drooling from my still open
mouth, from my earlier service duties, trying to blank-out what this
leather-bitch might do to me. I knew that the ass paddling would make
sitting-down very painful for a week to come, but hopefully it would ok by the
next weekend.

At the end of the evening's festivities, I was thrown into the trunk of the car
for the trip back. The cock-sucking prosthesis had been left in place, which
made breathing easy, but I still tasted the thick, salty cum that had been
deposited in my mouth.

When we arrived back at the house, I was escorted into my room and spent the
rest of the night bound in the same way. The binding around my arms had been
loosened a bit, though still behind my back. The hood, skirt and killer heels
were left on, and I was saved from the usual night time bondage ritual, though I
did have to sleep (so to speak) on the floor. In order to prevent me from moving
around too much, my nipple rings were locked onto a short chain that was
attached to the wall. The chain was just long enough to allow me to rest on one
side, any other movement causing my nipple to painfully stretch out. The cum
inside the prosthesis was now mixed with my saliva, creating a pool below where
my head rested; I knew I'd have to clean that up the next morning anyway.

I had not been allowed to relieve myself, so that by the next morning, my diaper
was soaked. My jaw ached from the unnatural opening caused by the "gag", and my
arms were numb from the bindings.

With everything but the corset and chastity belt removed, I was allowed to clean
myself. Looking at myself in the full-length mirror, I couldn't help but be
shocked (still) by the transformation my body was going through. The tattoos
were clearly noticeable, both at the front and back, the "WHIP ME" and "FUCK ME"
on my ass, now framed by the bright red skin earned from the previous night's
paddling.

Surprisingly, the dildo was not reinserted up my ass, as was the usual morning
custom. I was told that the pipeline workers were complaining that their
favourite "fuck-hole" was getting as loose as an over-the-hill whore's cunt. My
hole was to be allowed to regain some of its elasticity, through it would take a
few weeks, so in the meantime I still had to wear a diaper.

I then spent a gruelling four hours completely licking my room's tile floor,
then each inch of the bathrooms, including sink, bath and toilet. I had been
allowed to eat and drink throughout that time from a dog dish placed in one
corner of the room. Maria, who had been monitoring my activities, took great
pleasure in opening the can of sticky, gooey dog food in front of me, so as to
make sure I saw what was to be my "nutrition" for the day.

On the following Friday, as soon as I returned from work, I was surprised as
Pane's ordered Maria remove my corset; it had become a permanent fixture. I was
to be left completely nude except for the chastity belt, as per the instructions
from the previous weekend's auction winner and my "hostess" for the next two and
a half days.

Metal ankle and wrist cuffs were locked on, as was a wide metal collar. D-rings
on each of these were used to attach my wrists to the front of the chastity
belt, while a short chain linked my ankles, forcing me to make very small steps.
My normal "working teeth" had been removed, replaced by a large ball gag with a
breathing hole and a tight blindfold had been applied. Combined with the
white-noise filling my ears, I was deaf, dumb and blind and was now almost ready
for whatever my "weekend Mistress" had in mind.

The final touch was to be placed into what appeared to be a large trunk of some
kind. Lying on my back, my knees bend, my feet touching the other end of the
box. Straps were tightened around my arms, chest and waist. A metal bar, fed
through what must have been hole on one side of the trunk, was secured under my
knees, while a similar bar was placed at my ankles, trapping my legs in a bent
position. A final bar must have been fed through the bottom, as I was then
impaled onto a short but wide dildo.

Unable to hear or see anything, I could only guess that the cover had been
closed, as the air inside got warmer, though there must have been some holes at
the top or side of the trunk.

The jostling of the trunk and a move to a vertical position, told me that I was
on the move. The lack of sight and sound was disorienting, but I could feel
every movement, every bump from what must have been the stairs, as the dildo
pounded my asshole, moving in and out, stretching it with every bounce.

Finally the bouncing stopped and I could smell the residual exhaust from a
vehicle of some kind. I was literally being transported to meet my fate.

After what seemed like an eternity, I felt the trunk being moved from side to
side, then thump, the dildo ramming itself up my ass, as the trunk was surely
dropped. More bumps and movement till all finally became still.

I had been set back down into a horizontal position and quickly felt the cooler
breeze of an air-conditioned space. The two bars holding my legs were removed,
as was the dildo that was now fully up my ass.

The straps holding me down were removed, then two pairs of rough hands grabbed
me from under the arms, pulling me up and out of the trunk.

"Had a quiet trip, slut", said a husky female voice in my head. "I have a hell
of a weekend planned for you and I expect that I'll get my money's worth by the
time you're packaged up for the return trip."

I felt a rough leather covered hand over my left breast, the fingers playing
with my ringed nipples, then some tugging on the ring as my nipple slowly
stretched out. Whack. I crop or whip had come down hard against the breast. More
tugging and pulling, this time on the right one, then whack. Now both breasts
were on fire.

"These are so sweet looking," said the voice, "I think they've been kept
protected too long. I personally prefer them a little larger myself, " continued
the voice, "but these milky white tits will probably grow just from the special
punishment they'll get this weekend."

I felt something being hooked into the D-ring at the front of the collar, then a
tug told me that a leash of some kind had been attached, prompting me forward.

I could feel cold marble or tile under my feet, as I was walked around. I
stopped when the tugging stopped. Someone was playing with my nipple rings
again, a couple of clicks telling me that something had been attached to them.
My asshole was not spared, as I felt a cold, hard dildo being shoved up then
locked into place.

I was temporarily blinded by a bright light, as my blindfold was removed. When I
got things back into focus, I found that I was standing in the middle of what
looked like a "clinic/dungeon". White tiles everywhere, hooks and rings affixed
to the ceiling, walls and floor at various point throughout the room. The
furniture was decidedly hospital chic: chairs, benches, beds, all covered with
what looked like white rubber.

As I looked down at my chest, I found the source of the earlier clicks: the ends
of a short chain was attached to each nipple ring. The chain itself appeared
fairly light, but what troubled me was that it was attached to another one,
hanging vertically and threaded through a ring bolted into the ceiling about two
feet in front of me.

The "bitch" looked even more threatening than the previous week. Standing tall
in front of me, hands on her wide hips, her waist constricted (somewhat) by a
one-piece corset/g-string garment. She was perched on what looked like four inch
heeled boots, the smooth black leather rising up to her thighs.

She pulled on the chain dangling in front of her, causing my nipples to be
stretched out. The pain really didn't start until she reached over to a table,
picked up a one-pound weight, clipped to the end of the chain then let it drop
from her hand.

Obviously not quite satisfied with that, she clipped a second pound weight next
to the first one, and let that one drop as well.

Both weights were a few inches above a metal plate that had a wire connected to
it, which mysteriously disappeared behind me.

Moving closer to me, holding a mean-looking leather crop in her right hand, she
brought it up close to my now distended breasts. The purpose of the weights at
the other end became more obvious, as my tits now presented a tempting target.

"How about we start with ten on each tit", she said, looking at me with shear
hate in her eyes. "I've been wanting to use this new toy on a white piece of
trash for some time, and from what I've heard about you, I'm going to enjoy this
even more."

Whack. Whack, as she alternated from one breast to the other, welts rising on
each as she counted out loud. I had tried moving back, to avoid the crop, only
to be reminded of the weights dangling at the other end of the chain.

All this time I was somewhat free to move forward or backward. So far I'd
attempted some backward steps to avoid the crop on my tits.

The "bitch" went to a table close by and picked-up a short whip. Approaching me
again, she pointed to the weights and to the metal plate in front of me.

"I've got some shocking news for you, " she said. "The weights are only twelve
inches away from the plate, but if they touch it, it will complete the
electrical cycle, linking your tits with the butt-plug up your ass. It's not
enough to cause permanent injury, but it will be very painful. So if you move
forward, the weights will fall onto the plate and you really don't want that to
happen."

She stepped behind. I heard the now familiar swoosh of the whip, then it ripped
into my ass. I moved forward slightly from the blow, fortunately not enough to
bring the weights onto the plate. I move back a little. A second blast hit my
ass, I inched forward, bringing the weights too close to the plate and could see
sparks between the two metal objects, but they still did not connect.

She fastened the blindfold again; I was now unable to see how close the weights
were to what would sure be an excruciatingly painful ordeal. I stood as still as
possible.

The whip crashed onto the front of my thighs; I instinctively tried pulling
back, but the weights on my tits reminded me otherwise.

"This is no fun, " I heard her say, "I'm going to have to make this harder.
Let's see if I add one more of these."

I felt my tits being pulled some; she'd added more weight to cause my tits to
stretch out more. Then I felt the sting of the whip again on my thighs, but
couldn't pull back because of the increased weight.

Within a split second after I'd heard the swoosh, I knew it had come from the
rear. I wanted to move forward to avoid the sting on my ass or back. The plate!

It had hit my ass harder than before, my body shaking from the pain, my
concentration lost for a moment, my body naturally wanting to avoid more of the
same.

The next few minutes were like nothing I'd experienced since I was led down this
path of pain several months ago. The dildo in my ass took on a life of its own,
while the electricity cycled through my painful tits and filled asshole.

Even after I'd stepped back, cutting the power running to their connection
points, my body continued shaking.

The "bitch" laid into me again, twice. The weights must have touched the plate
again, because the electrical cycle started. This time I pulled back more
quickly, but the shaking went on. Again and again she whipped my ass, while I
kept going through the very painful cycle.

My skin was dripping with sweat, as she told me that I'd have to hold that
position until she rested for a while. My bones were shaking; I only hoped that
she wouldn't be too long, because I was sure that my tits would be ripped from
me.

After what seemed like an eternity, I felt her approach. She ran her rough hands
over my sore butt, kneading them. I felt a sudden rush of relief as she
unclipped the chain linking my tits to the weights, and was able to release some
of the tension. The plug came next, leaving my sore asshole wide open.

"I just love electric play, don't you?" she said. "These small tits of yours
seem to have grown already, at least the skin was a little stretched, so it'll
make what I have in store for you more interesting."

What else could she do to my poor tits, that hadn't already been done. I wanted
to just crumble, weep and rest for a few weeks.

She clipped the leash to my collar and tugged me forward, leaving me to follow
with tiny steps. When the tugging stopped, I felt as if I was on a cold hard
surface; she removed the blindfold. After adjusting to the harsh bright light, I
found myself standing in a bathroom, but like noting I'd ever seen. It was white
tiled, had an open shower area in one corner and a toilet, well at least it
looked like a toilet. The chrome fittings and porcelain fixtures were quite
unusual. The toilet bowl itself was on a raised, tiled platform

I was led over to the shower area, where I also noticed several strategically
placed chrome rings firmly attached to the walls, along with some unusually
positioned pipes. One of these ran up from the floor while another come down
from the ceiling.

One of the bitch's goons came in with what looked a very large dildo with some
strange fittings as the base. Without too much fanfare, it was roughly shoved up
my aching asshole. I felt some movement, twisting and turning, then noticed that
the rounded tip, used to facilitate its entry up my hole, had been removed,
which left me with the feeling that my asshole was kept wide open.

My feet were unshackled and I was led over to where the chrome pipe extended
from the floor. Spreading my legs, I was positioned right above the pipe; a few
adjustments and it was screwed to the fitting up my asshole. My feet were kept
apart, attached to rings on the floor, while my hands, now free from the belt,
were attached to two chains hanging from the ceiling.

When the gag was finally removed, I wanted to beg to be released, but was
sternly reminded that any sound would be met with a whipping that would leave my
skin raw for weeks.

One of the other goons pulled out a small bottle and sprayed the inside of my
mouth and back of my throat. Next, a wide diameter tube was inserted, the
earlier spray had effectively numbed my throat, preventing a normal gag reflex.
Several feet of this tubing was fed down my throat ending in a large rubber gag
with odd chrome fittings (though its use was to become apparent very soon).

The chrome fitting was then attached to the pipe leading from the ceiling.

"You have now been fully integrated into my waste management system. Your
feeding tube is attached to this, " she said, pointing to the ceiling pipe,
"which is connected to a septic tank of sorts. All of the house's toilets feed
into a tank above, then into a small pump, which feeds into a smaller tank,
where a measured amount of waste is kept. I can regulate the amount kept in the
smaller tank from one to four litres (up to a gallon).

"Using a timer, the smaller tank is emptied into this pipe," again pointing to
the one attached to my mouth, "and into you, our supplementary, organic waste
disposal system."

I was now a human toilet.

"I'm having a party," she continued, "and expecting twenty-five to thirty
guests, so I expect we'll get a lot of use from you. Unfortunately you wont be
able to taste anything, nor will you know when a new batch will be pumped into
you, except as you feel your stomach expand from the waste, then discarded
through the tube up your ass. The time required to 'process' the waste will be
painful indeed."

With that she turned, motioned her two goons along and left.

It wasn't too long before I felt the first of what be dozens of waves of shit
and piss being pumped into me. As predicted, my stomach would try to expand,
then a half-hour or more later, it would contract, as the waste was 'processed'
through me.

The pain levels varied, depending on the quantity, and I was able to gauge what
was coming by the listening to the humm from the pump. The longer it hummed, the
more painful the experience. Obviously the amount of waste was being varied.

Hours on end, I cycled through the pain of the filling, and the rush from the
disposal down the tube filling my ass.

Much later, the bitch's two goons returned and unhooked the gag from the pipe.
The gag was then attached to what looked like a bottle of clear liquid. The two
litre bottle was lifted above my head and left to drain into my aching stomach.
About an hour later, I felt more piss dripping down my leg, while a rush of warm
liquid was pumped up my ass. I guessed this was part of the cleaning exercise.

A hand-held shower head was used to wash me down, while I alternated between
pissing and having my bowels filled and emptied.

After an hour of this both the stomach and ass tubes were removed; I just hung
there, waiting for what else they had ready for me.

With my hands attached in back of me, I was pulled forward and led to a small
cell. The bed, if you could call it that, looked more like a medical examination
table with what looked like straps along the whole length.

Made to lie on the table, my hands unshackled, I was then tightly strapped down.
The straps firmly held me along the length of my body, my arms pinned to my
side, my legs held together. Two straps held my head firmly: one across my
forehead, the second, holding a ring gag fixed to each side of the table.

The bitch was back. She looked dishevelled, it must had been a rough night.

She came close to the table. "Quite a party, wouldn't you say? Too much food and
drink, though I think you know that already. You have a chance to rest a bit,
because we have a big day tomorrow, " she added.

Wheeling a small table close to where I was firmly attached, she then put on a
pair of surgical gloves.

"I told I like bigger tits," she said, while picking up a syringe containing a
yellowish liquid. "Some friends of mine found this wonderful compound in the
rainforests in the southwest. It's actually a venom of sorts, though I'm told
it'll make the sting from a bee seem like a mosquito bite by comparison.

"As you'll see, when I inject it into your smallish tits, they will almost
triple in size and burn as if stung by a whole beehive. The burning sensation
lasts about eight hours, then the swelling will subside a bit. I say a bit,
because once we're done here, your tits will have doubled in size permanently."

How was I going to hide them. I could mask my smaller tits and still function at
work, but this procedure was going to make that impossible. How was I supposed
to keep my private persona hidden from my co-workers? I'd have at least C-cup
breasts, I couldn't compress that.

"There are a few side-effects, though" she continued. "The swelling cycle
continues every month, unless the procedure is repeated. So if you don't receive
the injections regularly, your tits will take on monstrous proportions. While an
injection will stop the growth temporarily, they will stay more or less at the
larger size. So let's begin, shall we?"

She brought the syringe close to my nipple. Expertly, she guided the needle to
the tip of my left nipple and squeezed the pump till the yellow liquid had been
all been injected. Frankly the needle itself was the least of my worries, as I
almost immediately felt the burning effect as my tits began to swell.

She repeated the same exercise with the right breast, unceremoniously. The
burning and swelling began on that one as well. The swelling now on both breasts
was visible and the pain from the burning increasing proportionately to the
swelling. Eight hours of agony, I thought.

Not entirely finished, she took another syringe, this time containing a lighter
coloured liquid. She brought it close to my face. I watched in horror as she
injected it into my upper and lower lips.

"You'll now also have nicely puckered lips. Though this compound works in the
same way, it's slightly modified and only requires to be re-administered every
six months."

Sleep was not an option, even though they'd left me alone, my breasts and lips
burning, the swelling continued.

After several hours, my breasts stuck out from my chest: two large, firm mounds,
surely E size. By the time they returned, the swelling and the burning had
subsided and were larger than I'd expected, about a full C-cup. I could barely
feel my lips, though I did see them swell up.

"Well it looks like your body has taken well to this procedure, even better than
I'd expected," she said, kneading my tender breasts. "These are just about the
size I like, though I'm sure you've realized that your days as half a man are
over, cause I don't think you can hide these anymore. Your Mistress told me that
this was inevitable anyway, and she was very glad that I was able to help her in
the transformation.

"Just remember, if you don't get this treatment every month, your breasts will
grow till their size will become unbearable, and I am the only one to have this
compound, so you and I will get to spend at least a day a month together. There
is no known antidote."

(Several months later, I'd fully understand the importance of the treatment, as
my breasts would become a permanent double-D cup size, because of some screw-up
that prevented me from attending one of the monthly sessions. My lips had kept
their puckered look, but not grown, thankfully.)

The breasts were very tender from the stretching of the skin, but the bitch was
relentless in her abuse of her new found 'toys'.

That same day, while still firmly strapped to the table, she plucked my
eyebrows, applied artificial long nails, and had me paint them.

Later, strung-up from my wrists, my feet secured to the floor, she applied the
modified version of the compound (the same one she'd used on my lips) to several
areas around my hips and ass. The swelling and burning was repeated and the
effect became noticeable as my hip area appeared to widen on sight.

"This should help round-out your shape," she'd told me, while applying either a
paddle or whip to my soar ass.

After what appeared to be an interminable weekend, I was packaged up again and
shipped back to my waiting Mistress.

When I was brought back to my room and uncrated, I was placed in front of the
full-length mirror. My jaw dropped as I saw the figure staring back at me for
the first time. I couldn't believe what had happened to my body. My hips were in
facts wider and rounder, my large breasts stood out from my chest. Turning
slightly to my side, I noticed the rounding effect on my ass and the profile
created from the protruding breasts and flat stomach, shaped from the months of
wearing the corset. The transformation on my face was just as noticeable:
puckered lips, trimmed, dyed blond eyebrows, to match the wig, they'd said. With
a little makeup, I'd be unrecognisable.

"Your resignation has already been submitted," said Pane, "your days as an
abusive oil executive are over. That doesn't mean you'll stop working, but as of
tomorrow you are to become a new company assistant and office slut. In fact the
references we submitted on your behalf, attest to your level of service, a white
piece of trash employed, in large part, for your entertainment abilities."

I was resigning myself to the fact that now my whole life was forever changed;
my wife, my job, my sex, my money. They'd taken everything.

"These are big," said Pane, feeling my new mounds, "I just hope the clothes
we've picked out won't be too tight," she said with a wry smile.

The corset was put back on, as were my 'sleeping shoes' and the usual night time
attire, and I was tucked into bed.

Before leaving, Pane injected me with something. "This will help for tomorrow,"
was all she'd said.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt some tightening around my throat. As Maria
helped me get up from the bed, Pane, standing by the door, said: "How do you
feel, slut?"

"Strange, particularly around my throat area", I seemed to say in a barely
audible whisper, unable to raise my voice.

"Ah, I see it's beginning to work," said Pane. "The drug I gave you last night
constricted your vocal chords, so that you wont be able to speak for the next
few days. Meanwhile the drug will act on redefining your vocal chords,
stretching them, so to speak. That way, in about a week's time, your voice will
have gone up a few levels, but you will forever speak just barely above a
whisper."

I was then told to dress in what I would describe as office-slut chic: short
(but not insanely so) skirt and tight T-shirt. Under it all, I wore a satin
corset with matching underwear, effectively concealing the metal chastity belt,
somewhat of a thong-type thereby revealing the tattoos on my ass. A pair of
shiny hose came next, held by the garters attached to the corset. A white bra
completed the under-ensemble; it wasn't unduly thin but it did allow my nipples
to show through.

I guess to allow for some modesty in my public appearance, I was also given a
short jacket that fit rather well, except that I couldn't tie the front buttons.
They'd been right about underestimating the size (or was that the purpose).
Finally I was told to put on a pair of three-inch pumps.

To complete the look, makeup was applied and a blond wig was used to match my
eyebrows. I was now ready for a day at the office, though getting there would be
another story. I would have to take three buses, each of which more crowded than
the last, everybody, women, men, boys, staring at me, ogling my tits. One of
them, a middle-aged man, bumped into me by accident, his rough hands
'accidentally' squeezing my butt. I would have screamed, if I'd been able to, or
at least turn around, but the pressure of the bodies around me prevented any
such action.

By the time I got to the office, my clothes were soaked from perspiration, the
T-shirt sticking to me like glue, making my nipples even more visible.

My former secretary came to greet me at reception, giving me a wink, as she
welcomed me to the company. I'd of course gotten used to the heels, but had been
sternly reminded to sway my hips more by Pane before leaving the house.

I was escorted to a small office. One desk, close to thirty file cabinets, a
chair, no windows and no A/C. This was going to be hell.

"Take your jacket off, you must be warm," said my former secretary, "then let me
introduce to the new company President."

I complied without question, knowing that she'd blabber to Pane whatever I did
wrong.

I followed her to what used to be my office. Sitting behind, what used to be my
desk, was a stunning, redhead. The hair was cropped short, but her figure was
decidedly feminine, while the pantsuit she wore did little to hide her tall,
well-shaped, athletic body.

"You must me the new girl, my name is Ms Havelova. I'm sorry what's yours, I
seem to have misplaced your file," said the redhead.

"Her name's Crystal," answered my former secretary, "Crystal Tholler.
Unfortunately she's come down with something, so her voice is a little shot."

"Sorry to hear that," said the redhead, "but from what I've read in your file,
your talents should make up for that. If you don't mind, I've got to get ready
for a meeting. Welcome aboard." She turned back to her desk, our signal to
retreat.

"By the way," said my former secretary, "you're to call me Ms Drucker in public
and Mistress Drucker in private, understood."

"Yes, Mistress Drucker," I whispered.

"We'll introduce you around later, right now I want to get you acquainted with
your new functions."

We continued walking towards her office and my 'closet'.

She showed me my new email (they'd obviously cancelled my address).  In the
email directory I was listed as Crystal_UNT@... I didn't need a degree in
computer science to see the genius in my new email address.

"First I want you to go down to the warehouse. See the shift supervisor, Mr.
Jenkins, and ask him if there's anything you can do for him. Now go."

I trotted down the stairs, towards the back. I obviously knew the place well.

I found Jenkins in his office. "Good morning, Mr. Jenkins, Ms Drucker told me to
come and see if I could do anything for you," I whispered.

"Speak up, girl, I can hardly hear you."

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir," I tried whispering again, "I've lost my voice, Sir.
Ms Drucker told me to come and see if I could do anything for you."

"Well you can indeed, how about a blowjob," he said, laughing.

"If that's what you want, Sir, I was told to do anything you asked," I answered.

"Well then, what are you waiting for, get down on your knees, and get to it."

I was getting ready to kneel.

"No wait," he said, "take off your close," as he moved towards the door to close
and lock it.

Shit, I thought, he'll see the tattoos. I'm fucked.

"If that will please you, Sir," I answered, demurely.

I unzipped and removed my skirt.

"Wow, SLUT! What's this?" he asked, pointing to the tattoo at the front.

"It's what I am, Sir," I answered. 'Why did I say that?'

"Property of Mistress Pane, that's a new one," he continued. "Turn around."

I did, showing him my still swollen ass.

"I'm not sure about the WHIP ME part, but the FUCK ME sounds interesting. Take
off you're the rest, let's see what else you've got hidden away."

I turned back facing him, and pealed off the T-shirt, then bra and underwear. My
large tits stuck out from my chest, the long nipples adorned by the permanent
rings pierced through them. I was left in my chastity belt, corset, hose and
shoes.

"Now I've seen every thing," he said. "I've never seen tits done up like that
and that belt; what secrets do you keep hidden away?

"Never mind. Get on your knees and give me that blowjob I asked for."

I moved closer to him, got onto my knees and unzipped his pants. I was getting
used to this part. I pulled out his swollen cock and first gave it a tongue
bath. Once fully lubricated, I took the tip in my mouth, flicking my tongue. He
was obviously very horny, his hand behind my head pulling my head towards his
crotch, his cock deeper inside my mouth.

"Let me try that ass of yours," he said, pushing my head away. "Bend over, I
like fucking a bitch like a dog. Hurry-up, I want to get a quick fuck in before
my staff meeting. Go on, or should I try the WHIP ME part."

I said nothing, turned and put my hands on the floor, waiting for the inevitable
pounding up my ass. Thankfully I had well lubricated his cock, as it slipped in
easily. He pounded for several minutes, thrusting in and out unrelentlessly till
his grunt told me he'd just spent himself inside me. He withdrew quickly.

"Turn around and clean this up," he said, slapping my ass.

I performed as directed, my puckered lips moving up and down his softening
shaft, sucking the last bit of cum, till he was satisfied.

"Now get dressed, slut, and get out of here before my guys get here. I have a
staff meeting every morning, I think I'll want one of these before every
meeting. Hurry-up, you've only got a few minutes."

Getting up, I hurriedly got dress, his cum dripping from my asshole, the wetness
sticking to my underwear, while he ignored me, sitting at his desk. I was just a
piece of white trash.

Every day was just more of the same. A blowjob here, a quick fuck there, mixed
in with some cunt licking (my former secretary especially).

Ms Havelova even had me service two of her Japanese clients, having me wear a
"school-girl" outfit the whole day on that occasion. It had also been a popular
outfit around the warehouse as well.

After about three weeks, I noticed that my bras were getting tighter; my tits
were swelling and getting heavier as predicted, I would soon need another
injection.

By the fourth week, the dresses and other clothing were getting tighter. My hips
and buttocks continued their slow swelling, but my tits filled my bra and then
some, presenting more and more cleavage.

When it came time for my first of the monthly injections, I was crated away as
the first time and brought to "the bitch" for a weekend of work (cleaning her
house from top to bottom), torture (she truly enjoyed whipping my swollen tits)
and the overnight hell of the injections right into my nipples. My tits got much
larger, before subsiding to their normal C size. The feeling of a hundred bee
stings had kept me awake all night.

My transformation didn't stop the usual monthly oil worker fuck-fest, though the
number of 'attendees' had increased to a point that the event had to be done in
two sessions over a weekend. I'd spend the next week almost unable to sit from
the pounding I'd received. My whole pay went to this increasing number of
workers, while my former investments kept Mistress Pane in the lap of luxury.

Five months after the first injection, my hips and buttocks area had widened
further, though they had not thought it economically viable to upgrade my
wardrobe; I had to wear the same skirts and dresses, getting tighter around my
ass, showing it off even more.

The weekend I was scheduled for the monthly session with "the bitch" was spent
at a country house where Mistress Pane and several of her friends took a break
from the pressure of city life. I spent the weekend either thrust-up as a pony
to facilitate their transportation around the compound, shackled in the barn or
used to test out a variety of new implements, including many paddles, whips and
clamps.

When I got dressed on Monday morning, I was given a half-cup bra, C-cup size of
course, causing most of my tits to spill out. To add to that, I was given a
low-cut, very tight sun dress with a wide frilly bottom. There was plenty of tit
to show as they were clearly now a full D-cup. I hoped that I would get the
injections next weekend.

The next weekend came and went, as did the next three; my tits growing day by
day with no relief in sight. The bra straps dug into my flesh as I was still
wearing the originally selected items, even though my tits were edging towards
double-D size.

I couldn't believe that I was now eager to get the injections that would stop
the growth. The pursing of my lips had continued, to the satisfaction of many,
while the tight dresses and skirts were close to busting at the seams.

When they crated me up for the trip back to 'the bitch', I was relieved. I knew
that it would be hell, but at least I'd get these tits under control.

I went through the usual routine of cleaning the house of servicing 'the
bitch's' many guests, before she finally hooked me up for the injections.

She started with the buttocks, hips and lips, the burning sensation almost a
relief. She then took a whip to my entire body including my engorged tits till I
fainted.

When I cam too, I was in a cell, my hands shackled to the rear of my chastity
belt, a metal collar around my neck, chained to the wall. I had some liberty of
movement, that is, there was enough slack in the chain linking me to the wall,
but I couldn't really walk in the ballet type boots they'd put onto my feet. The
cell was dark, so a blindfold was useless, but I was duly gagged, sucking on a
large rubber cock.

With the darkness of the cell, I couldn't see my tits, but their weight reminded
me of their growing presence. I was surprised that they didn't burn. Had she not
injected them, or was I just getting used to the pain? The areas that I did
remember receiving the injections, my lip, hips and ass, did burn, but that was
subsiding; I must have been out a while.

The next day, while I was being crated-up for the return trip home, 'the bitch'
hovered over me. Once I was secured inside, but before having the cover put on,
she bent over a tweaked my nipples and roughly massaged my tits.

"These are looking very good," she said. "I said I liked larger tits, and these
are just about right. I decided not to give you another injection, cause I'd
like to see how they look in a month's time; they should be about E-cup size by
then, we'll see if that'll be enough."

These tits couldn't get much heavier or larger, I thought. The next month was
going to be hell on my back, as I carried more and more weight up front.

Thankfully, Mistress Pane had bought a larger sized bra, my tits were a full
double-D but the label on the bra said D. Still too tight, though at least not
as tight as the previous month.

I made it to the next session with 'the bitch', thankfully. Strapped down to the
medical-like table, I was almost looking forward to the injection. My tits now
stuck-out to the full E cup size as she'd said and had become very heavy,
bouncing with every movement every step through the warehouse at work, providing
some entertainment for the boys.

She brought the tray next to the table, though I couldn't see its content
because of the straps holding my head down.

She reached over to the tray and picked-up a device I'd seen before, but it
wasn't the syringe, it was a pair of piercing forceps. She very quickly snapped
the forceps onto my septum (the cartilage between the nostrils). Producing a
large gauge needle, she made quick work of piercing.

She cleaned the wound very carefully. Reaching onto the tray, she pulled out a
small diameter, but large gauge stainless steel ring. Slowly removing the
needle, she filled the new hole with the ring. Damn it was painful; tears were
flowing down my cheek.

'What about my tits', I thought.

Almost as if reading my mind, she reached over and removed the rings from each
of my nipples. "You won't be needing these anymore," she said, "the holes will
heal in about a month's time."

She had to be thinking about giving me the monthly shot, my tits were becoming
much too large.

"I'll save the ordeal of another shot this month," she said, "I'd like to see
how they'll look next month, besides, by then you'll be milking like a cow."

Milking? How could I be milking?

"The injections you've been given over the past months has, as you've seen,
caused your tits to engorge more and more each month. While the regular
injections do stop the growth process, they also have a cumulative effect of
causing an unusual growth inside them. They will now produce what could be
called milk, but in fact it's a very powerful aphrodisiac. It works on both men
and women, causing a temporary massive erection in men and a near insatiable
level of horniness in women. Let me show you."

She reached over to the tray and pulled out a breast pump (like the ones used on
breast-feeding mothers). Applying it to my right breast, she pumped very
quickly. With a dozen pumps, my engorged nipples were sucked into the pump.
After several more pumps, a cream coloured liquid was drawn into the glass
container attached to the pump. She repeated the exercise on the left tit.

She'd pumped several millilitres of this liquid. Removing the container from the
pump, she reached over to my open mouth and poured into in (sweet and not too
bad tasting), I swallowed as best I could.

"I know that you haven't had an erection in more than a year, with your pathetic
cock imprisoned in that chastity belt. Once this miracle substance takes effect,
you'll feel like you'd fuck anything, even though there's no place for your cock
to get hard. You will be in total agony till the aphrodisiac wears off. But this
should help keep your mind focused for a while."

She produced two nipple clamps and unceremoniously tightened them to my nipples.
She closed the lights to her "laboratory" and left.

I waited in silence. My nose was hurting and felt a strange sensation around my
nipples, where the rings once were, and where the clamps were now applied.
Despite this, I wanted to get my mind off everything and tried to sleep.

I did dose off a bit, but was awakened by a sharp pain at my crotch. My cock was
trying desperately to get hard, but the curved and short tube from the belt
prevented any such action. I wanted some relief; I wanted to get my cock into
something soft, hard, hot, cold, whatever it took to ease the pressure.

Minutes turned into hours as my cock tried desperately to escape its metal
prison. The fact that I was tied down so tightly prevented any movement at all,
I had to suffer in silence.

In the morning, the "bitch" returned. Almost just as quickly as she'd applied
them the night before, she removed the nipple clamps. The pain in my nipple was
excruciating, as the blood flowed back into my once ringed nipples.

"I'm sure you had a little trouble sleeping," she said, playing with the ring in
my nose, "probably trying to make yourself cum, well this chastity belt of yours
performs exactly as intended, so just as frustrated as when you started your
decent into this hell you all call a life."

I couldn't tell how long the effects of the aphrodisiac had lasted, but it must
have been a couple of hours. Combined with the constant pressure from the nipple
clamps and the pain from my new nose ring, it was in fact a very restless night.

Mistress Pane seemed to be getting bored with me. Sure she enjoyed watching me
through my transformation, the monthly worker fuck-fest was a good source of
revenue and the royalties from the Internet sale of the multiple videos she'd
produced of my painful bondage and whipping sessions were increasing her coffers
indeed. I think she wanted more.

When I was returned to the house on Sunday afternoon, properly crated as usual,
I was put to work cleaning the house. The thick rubber maids outfit was getting
tighter month by month. With my hips, ass and especially tits growing, all of my
clothes clung to me like a second skin, but the maids outfit was particularly
tight and hot. I had to wear the low-cut dress, of course to show off as much
cleavage as possible, but I also had to wear the rubber gloves, hood and
stockings; you'd think I'd loose weight from all of the work and sweating.
They'd even started calling me 'the fat bitch'.



Six months had passed since I'd been milked for the first time. I'd been fed my
own aphrodisiac milk on a regular basis, causing me no end of pain behind the
metal prison of my chastity belt. At work I'd become less of an assistant and
more of a full-time whore, as more and more men and women took advantage of me
and my unique elixir. Men would fuck my ass or force me to suck them for hours
at a time, while the effect of the aphrodisiac, they'd sucked on from my
engorged tits, kept them horny and hard.

My tits now stood out at a full double-E. My waist was kept very trim with or
without the corset (though the corset was kept on most of the time). My hips and
ass had been left to grow considerably, giving me an exaggerated hourglass
figure. The labels "fat slut" or "fat cunt" was becoming more and more fitting.

The ring in my nose had been replace by a solid and soldered permanent ring. It
had been used on many occasions to tether me or, worse, locked on to a clit
ring. I had spent a half-day locked onto Maria clit ring, while she was being
"rewarded for good behaviour".

Maria had been kept in her chastity belt continuously, while Mistress Pane
occasionally fed her some of my milk. The belt prevented her from getting off
and kept her fully frustrated. After several months of continued use, Maria was
aching for some relief and had gone to great length to satisfy Mistress Pane,
hence the reward she was finally given. I'm not sure 'reward' is the right word,
because her ordeal must have been both pleasurable and very painful.

One Saturday afternoon, Maria was strung up by her wrists, her legs shackled
wide apart. I had been placed into a very tight leather straight-jacket, my
ballet-booted legs tight together, ankles to thighs. Pushed just under Maria
widely spread legs, my nose-ring was locked onto her, such that my tongue could
easily reach her exposed clit.

Both Maria and I were fed my own "milk". After a while, the pain in my crotch
became unbearable, while Maria's thrusting told me that she was experiencing the
same effect from the aphrodisiac.

"Start licking, slut," said Mistress Pane. "Meanwhile I'll warm up my whip on
her ass."

I began lick feverously, the aphrodisiac was having the desired effect on me: it
did increase my horniness, but also increased my frustration. After only a few
minutes, Maria said: "Please Mistress Pane, I beg you to please let me cum."

"No, not yet," answered Mistress Pane, "I'm only up to seventeen and you should
get at least twenty-five first, but I want the fat slut to keep licking and
sucking."

I, of course, complied, licking even more and faster (something about poetic
justice, as I thought of all the times Maria had been less than kind to me in
the past year.

Four strokes from the whip later, Maria screamed her first of many orgasms of
the day.

"You cunt," said Mistress Pane, "I said you'd have to wait to twenty-five. Now
I'm going to keep at it till you beg to come again." I could feel Maria shaking,
both from the orgasm and from the pain she was surely experiencing from the
whip.

The whip slowed, but continued. I was told to stop licking. I knew that Mistress
Pane could see every I was doing because of the camera, set-up on a tripod, and
pointing up to provide a full view of Maria's cunt and my tongue.

Maria kept shaking and thrusting; the aphrodisiac was having a sustained effect,
yet she was given more of the milk they'd pumped out of my tits earlier.

Maria begged again and was allowed to cum, and again she begged, the whipping
continuing, and again she climaxed.

After about an hour of this, Maria's hot body was dripping from her multiple
orgasms and sweat from the whippings. My nose ring was unlocked from her clit,
then a penis gag with a large external cock attachment was fitted to me.

I was moved from the front to the back, the camera repositioned according. The
cock protruding from my mouth was now going to be used to fuck Maria in the ass,
while Mistress Pane would whip Maria tits and clit. I didn't think that Maria
could cum again, but the constant whipping to her cunt area seemed to get her
going again, as she tried grinding her ass onto the rubber cock.

Five times in less than four hours, Maria was "forced" to orgasm. Just when she
must have thought that she couldn't cum one more time, she was given another
dose of the "milk" and was brought right to the brink of another body shacking
orgasm, when I was quickly pulled away from her. Her hips humping thin air,
there was no further contact with either my tongue or the dildo. Her frustration
was visible.

Maria's frustration must have turned to rage as Mistress Pane re-applied the
metal chastity belt, locking away any chance to reach another climax. She just
hung there, her legs spread wide, her sex inaccessible. Mistress Pane did help
to get her mind off the missed mind-blowing orgasm, as she clipped some clamps
to Maria's tits. The clamps were attached to thin chain running up to a small
pulley fixed into the ceiling and running to another similarly fixed pulley
about a meter in front. The remaining chain tangled from the second pulley.

The straps holding my legs together were removed and I was pulled to my feet.
Still teetering on the ballet boots, my arms held tightly against me my
straight-jacket, I was brought in front of Maria to where the remaining chain
was dangling. A blindfold was applied and two sturdy chains were attached to
D-rings located either shoulder of the jacket, there use would become clearer.

There was just a little slack from the heavy chain, permitting only limited
movement in any direction. The small chain, the other end firmly attached to
Maria's tits, was then pulled tight and attached to my nose ring, causing me to
lift my head.

Maria's scream, as I teetered a bit from the unsteadiness of the ballet boots,
told me she'd be left ungagged. Any movement from my part, translated into the
stretching of her tits and pulling on my nose. I would be teetering for quite a
while, the silence interspersed by Maria cries if I moved too much. The heavy
chains attached to my jacket, prevented any chance of causing permanent damage
to my nose or her tits, but enough room to cause a lot of pain.

After some time, we were un-tethered. I don't know what was done with Maria, but
I was simply left in my straight-jacket overnight, my feet and legs securely
bound together, the nose-ring locked onto something close to the floor. It was a
relatively quiet night, as I was not subject to any further attention and
actually fell asleep, despite the occasional cramp in my arms.



It's now been four years since I arrived in Africa. I haven't heard from Maria
in over a year, ever since I was moved out of my house and installed into a
small shack close to the oil pipeline. I wear a stainless-steel collar along
with wrist and ankle cuffs, all welded in place. The monthly injections stopped
just before being expelled from the house, the growth in my tits, ass and hips
had stopped and had now become permanent.

There was no further use for the chastity belt; it was removed nine months ago
in a ceremony that I could only categorize as barbaric, though locally thought
to be ritualistic, any vestige of manhood was taken away. After being given a
very powerful tranquilliser, I was firmly strapped down to a makeshift operating
table. With my legs held wide apart, the local medicine man removed my testicles
and, with near-surgical precision, cut off my cock, leaving less than a
centimetre of a now totally deadened piss-hole. I felt absolutely nothing during
the procedure, and unfortunately I'd never feel anything from that area again,
having to squat to piss. A large metal ring was pierced through the piss-hole,
providing an additional tethering point.

The corset was removed along with my manhood, it would never to be worn or
needed again. Without the corset and with the type and quantity of food left in
my eating bowl, I had now gained about forty kilos (close to a hundred pounds).
My lips had been left to grow somewhat, before an antidote was applied, so they
were now very full and thick.

I now spend most of my evenings either sucking some slob's cock or getting
fucked in my now fat ass. My teeth had been taken away when I arrived, as they
didn't want to take any chance, so combined with my full lips, I provide a much
sought after service. Thankfully my tits are milked regularly by the persistent
stream of workers coming to the shack for some entertainment which, of course,
keeps them hot, horny and hard for longer periods of time. A chain is locked
onto my neck collar and attached to a stake in the middle of the shack, allowing
me enough room to move around, use the shower and toilet. I take twenty or more
showers a day, as I must be kept clean at all times and devoid of any body hair.

The local chief has offered my services to one of his son's who uses me in the
field to pull his plough every morning (he has a very large plantation). To
work, I am fitted with a full leather suit that covers me from the top of my
head to the tip of my toes. The suit laces up on the sides all the way, pulling
in the rolls of fat. The son has two employees who take about an hour in the
morning to lace me up. The suit has a very large built-in butt plug that extends
on the outside to what would resemble a tail. There are only three holes in the
body portion of the suit, one for each breast and one for my piss-hole. My tits
are compressed within a reinforced leather breast plate with two holes allowing
some flesh and the nipples to protrude. Nipple clamps are then applied along
with annoying bells that jingle with very step. The feet portion of the suit are
shaped like very wide hooves, thereby keeping me steady as I walk through the
fields. A head harness covers the hood and has a wide bit gag and blinders.

The leather from the suit is very thick and is reinforced in key areas with
D-rings to allow for the hooking-up of the plough, cart or other agricultural
equipment as needed. As soon as the suit has been fully fitted, I'm already
sweating, after a couple of hours the leather has clung to me like a second
skin. By noon, when the sun becomes too hot for the workers, the inside of the
suit is like a sauna.

In the afternoon, my keepers keep me outside to bake in the sun. Nude, except
for the metal from the collar and cuffs, my collar is attached by a long chain
to a stake in the ground. I am forced to walk and exercise, suffering frequent
whippings if my pace slows. The constant sun has caused my skin to become very
dark, even darker since the medicine man started applying a locally cultivated
balm that allows the skin to darken, yet protects it from burning.

My very large tits, without the benefit of the injections or support from a bra,
still do not hang (my breasts are very firm, though there is more fat than
before, so they do sag a little); the outside of my right breast has been
branded by the local chief to identify his property. He doesn't use me himself,
not with seven beautiful wives, but I have become a good source of income for
the village.

The aphrodisiac from my "breast-milk" has also proven to be an excellent source
of income. Monthly I am strapped to a special milking device; my breasts are
clamped into a vice-like mechanism and my wrists are attached to widely spread
hooks. My ankles are then pulled wide apart, to a point where my feet do not
touch the ground, leaving me to hang by the tits and wrists. Specially designed
cups are put onto each breast and the "milk" is pumped from them. Just to spur
me on, I am whipped by the villagers until they're satisfied that they've pumped
as much as they could; each millilitre of the "special milk" is a source of very
high margin.



I hope that this letter finds its way to the world that I once knew. I am not
looking to be saved or rescued, because while I am kept bound or tethered to
this place, the shackles are not really needed, as there's no other place or
purpose for me.

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