 |
|||
|
|
The girl grunted and strained against her bonds as she squeezed the slick dildo
that pumped her cunt, then clenched her asshole as though she were trying to
break the resilient anal prod in half. She'd managed a perfect training run so far,
and the humming and stroking of her stimulators had risen to a high pitch. She
was getting close to what had become her main mission in life: getting off on the
plastic dildos and buzzing clips that endlessly tormented her.
A burst of static interrupted the film playing out on the monitor above, a level nine
program that featured blowjobs, pussy and assfucking, titjobs, rimjobs, and a few
other techniques the girl had no names for. The dazed blonde "star" of the film
climbed off the prick she'd been ass-humping and effortlessly deepthroated
another monstrous cock. The screen momentarily flashed SUCK in tiny letters
and the girl on the table pulled hard on the oral prod, drawing the entire faceplate
in so that it flattened her lips against her teeth.
She imagined herself as the blonde, sucking not on the tasteless prod but on that
beautiful, delicious cock. She squeezed the quivering, stroking pussy prod constantly,
trying to increase the friction and gain more stimulation. Through painful
experience she'd learned just how hard she could squeeze before tripping the
detector and earning a set of shocks for disobedience. Her nostrils flared and
her body flushed, her exertions bringing forth a sheen of sweat across her
forehead and her cleavage. She was so close...
Outside her field of view, green lines fluttered across the monitor connected to
the wire leads that were pasted to her forehead. The machine sent a signal to
the computer that governed the training program, and the pace of command
words rapidly increased: SUCK - LICK - SUCK - LICK - SUCK - SUCK -
CLENCH...
Oh no! Even as the plastic oral prod clicked a third consecutive time, the girl
realized she'd blown it. Again.
"Aaaaaaaaaaggggggghh!" Long, intense bursts of electricity coursed through her
nipples and clamped clitty, while the vibrations and cunt-pumping stopped cold.
"Disobedience will be severely punished," the cold, all-knowing voice intoned.
"Maintain strict attention at all times, follow instructions and you can avoid
punishment. Program Terminated - Incomplete." The girl's eyes moistened at
her helpless frustration. She felt the blood ebb from her swollen pussy and stung
clitoris, but arousal still clattered inside her head, so intense that she heard bells
ringing. An anguished groan escaped her.
"Hope I'm not interrupting."
It was her developer. In her focus on the screen and
on her own stimulation, she hadn't heard him enter. Her already pink body
flushed further with the realization that he must have been watching her for some
time. Now he moved to check the paper strips that had been spat out by the
brainwave monitor.
"Um-hmmm. You're making real progress. And the rest period strips have
leveled out, too. Good. Nurse, let's get her toweled off and ready for bed."
While the nurse, who had apparently entered with him, obeyed, he flipped
switches and turned dials on the brainwave monitor, then moved to the computer
terminal by the door and tapped out new instructions.
"Sweet dreams!" he said with a smile, then exited the room.
The nurse dried her thoroughly, then exchanged the training prods for the
maintenance connections. The captive received an involuntary bladder-draining and
a small enema - both of which had become so routine that she hardly noticed them anymore.
The table was flipped into the inverted position, and the girl felt the weight of the
growing, plastic-filled tit-sacs pulling at the chemically softened skin of her chest.
She could see their tops now, coming into view below her cheekbones. Once
again the swarm of ants appeared on her feet, and the lights dimmed.
--------------------------------------------
The girl dozed lightly for some time. Her unconscious mind had become
conditioned to the denial of REM, and seldom attempted to descend into deep
sleep. Now she might be awakened by the buzzer and flashing lights only
once each rest period, if at all. But she'd had a long "day," filled with two training
sessions and breast injections and her expanding flexibility program. After a few
hours cruising half-awake, her mind was again drawn down into the depths....
She saw strange shapes stirring in the darkness. It was the nurse and doctor,
standing over her. The room was half illuminated with a soft blue light, and the
figures were distorted, like she was looking up through a fisheye lens. Their
voices were muffled and unintelligible - but the nurse was speaking! This
couldn't be her nurse, or her room....but it was someplace she'd been before,
long ago. She was in dreamland.
She was afraid! She knew wasn't allowed to dream - she'd be punished
somehow. But nothing happened.
The doctor addressed the nurse in a muffled voice. They tipped her table into
the vertical position, and undid all the restraining bands, one by one.
"You've been a very good girl." Her doctor smiled at her and extended his hand
in gentlemanly fashion. She reached out and clasped it, and stepped easily out
of her restraints. She felt light as air, walking naked on her toes, as he led her to
the door. It swung open silently before them.
Outside was not the sterile white corridor she'd imagined, but a large, moodily lit
room draped with silk curtains in purple and blood red. The doctor led her by the
hand across ankle-deep white carpet to the only piece of furniture, an ornately
carved stool in the center of the circular room, and invited her to sit.
"Enjoy your reward. You've earned it!" He turned and departed, the door closing
behind him. The girl sat quietly on the stool, her hands folded in her lap. She
looked down at herself. Her boobs were huge, jutting, perfect pears. Beneath
her trim waist, her lush buttocks made for a comfortable seat on the lightly
upholstered stool. She felt her hair, clean and curly, draped across her
shoulders and down her back. She smelled of perfume, and felt beautiful.
Suddenly there were rustlings in the draperies. In the shadows behind the lurid
silks a platoon of erect dicks appeared, eight or ten approaching from all around
and pointed straight at her. As they emerged from the darkness she saw they
were attached to tall and muscular male figures, with generically handsome faces
that looked down on her sternly. The figures advanced slowly until they circled
her, shoulder-to-shoulder, their long, stiff pricks like a ring of spears with the dull
points just within her reach. They stopped and stared down at her, unsmiling.
Fearfully, she leaned forward and reached out to one of the intimidating cocks,
not sure what was expected of her. After hesitating for a moment, she touched
the tip lightly, then curled her fingers around the shaft. Slowly she began to
stroke up and down its length.
With a quick motion the figure behind the prick knocked her hand away and
ordered: "Suck!" Immediately she fell to her knees on the soft carpet and inhaled
him, stroking her lips up and down the shaft just behind the glans. The entire
cock was far too much to take into her mouth. It tasted sweet and clean, like
prime steak to a starving man.
"Suck!" said the figure to her left. She drew her lips off the first cock with a pop,
and plunged down on the second. As she stroked the figure slowly reached
forward and grasped her head, pressing its fingertips hard against the sides of
her skull. Slowly, while she looked up past chiseled abs into the statue-like
visage, the male drew her to him, burying his length between her lips. Pressure
built against the back of her mouth, but then he plunged past that constriction
and down her throat. She was afraid for a moment, but fear gave way to arousal
as she felt his knob sliding painlessly and excitingly up and down inside her neck.
Feeling no need to breathe, she closed her eyes as her privates began to tingle...
The figure pulled her off of its member and slapped her across the face, sending
her reeling back against the stool. "Maintain strict attention at all times! Follow
instructions and you can avoid punishment!"
"Suck!" said another figure to her right. Rubbing her cheek quickly she crawled
to him, and took the third prick between her lips. This time she made only two
short strokes before pushing her head towards his groin and taking his glans
down her throat. She rocked back and forth on her knees, feeling her heavy tits
swing while his lemon-sized cockhead bulged out the front of her neck. Her
nipples and clitty were hardening, her tight little pussy moistening, but she held
eye contact with the impassive face far above.
"Suck!" said a figure behind her, and she scrambled around the stool to obey.
After she'd throated the fourth cock for a minute, its owner gripped her head
firmly and spoke into her upturned face, "Stand!"
With some difficulty she climbed to her toes, bent at the waist with her mouth still
filled by the steel-hard prick. She craned her neck and rolled her eyes as far
back as she could, trying to hold eye contact with the figure before her. She felt
another cock nosing between her round butt cheeks, and reached behind herself
to spread her ass while arching her back to better expose her pussy. In a
moment the unseen rod was pushing into her now sopping female passage. She
gasped around the cock in her mouth as with one irresistible stroke the second
dick filled her box to its limit.
"Squeeze!" commanded a voice behind her, and she clamped down on the rigid
tool. The figure to her rear grasped her wide hips, and both he and the male that
gripped her skull began pushing her back and forth, working their pricks in and
out of her mouth and cunt while she squeezed and sucked to match their pace,
and her ponderous boobs swung beneath her. The rest of the figures moved in
close around them, and began jacking off above her.
Slowly the pace of the double-team fucking increased, until the huge athletic
figures threw her back and forth between them as though she were a doll.
Pressure grew rapidly, and she began to groan with pleasure, moaning around
the rigid cock that slid back and forth between her teeth. She let go of her own
asscheeks and clutched the hard thighs of the figure before her.
Suddenly she felt a raindrop on her back, and the stern figure with whom she
locked eyes ordered: "Come!"
Release came instantly, like an explosion of fireworks in her brain. She forced
repeated screams past the mouth-fucking dick, in rhythm with the continued
pounding. Her cunt spasmed around the cock that reamed it, increasing the
friction and driving her to greater heights. She felt the prick in her mouth pulsing,
and hot goo shooting into her belly, while the raindrops on her back built into a
downpour of hot spunk. Her knees buckled, and her cries turned plaintive, but
the strong hands that grasped her took on her weight and continued to slam her
back and forth upon their still-hard members while her jugs flopped back and
forth crazily.
She came again, and again, and again. The flow of rich milky semen seemed
endless - she felt it backing up in her throat, and being forced out of her overfilled
box around the pistoning dick.
By the time her partners were fully drained, she was barely conscious. They
drew themselves out of her and released their grips, letting her fall in a heap to
the thick carpet, where she leaned her sperm-coated back against the stool. A
trio of males who were not out of ammunition advanced and whacked off over
her, spraying her face and chest with pints of sticky goo. Gasping, she ran her
tongue around her lips and tasted their seed as the silk-draped room faded into
darkness.
-----------------------------------------------------
"Have a good night?"
The developer smiled broadly as he read the paper strip printed out by the
brainwave monitor, as though he could read her thoughts. Maybe he could, she
thought.
Yes, it had been a good night. She'd awakened from the violent, hyper-sexed
dreams hornier than ever, but the visions had at least provided a change of
scenery from the crushing monotony of her imprisonment. And she felt more
awake and clearer of mind than she could remember. For the first time since her
abduction, she had a feeling that something good might actually happen today.
"Today's a big day! We're going to get you up on your feet. Ruta, show our girl
her new shoes."
The big green-clad woman stepped into view, holding a strange object. The
shiny red upper looked like it belonged to a very narrow slipper, but the inch-wide
ankle strap was at the wrong angle. The sole was a black rubber wedge, but it
was backwards: the narrow end of the wedge was at the heel, while the wide end
extended just past the toe. The front of the rubber wedge was textured and
beveled.
As the girl watched, Ruta smiled and rotated the shoe ninety degrees. Now it
made more sense - if barely. The shoe would fit as long as her foot pointed
straight down, in line with her shin. What she had first taken as the front of the
backwards-wedge sole was actually the bottom, a beveled rectangular pad about
two inches wide by three long.
"These only trainers," the big woman said in her thick East-European accent.
"They help you learn walk on toes, like pretty dancer. Later you get the big
heels, like needles. But I think you smart girl, before you leave you learn walk on
toes with no heel! Not every girl can do, but I think you can if we work hard."
"Alright, one step at a time," the doctor laughed. "Let's get those on."
The electrostim pads were peeled off, and the nurse wiped and dried the girl's
feet thoroughly. The pain and soreness were almost completely gone; only the
outer sides of her feet remained slightly tender to the touch. Ruta gingerly
slipped the shoes onto the girl's feet, then tightened the ankle straps and two
more wide straps over the insteps.
The doctor pulled the catches behind the table and slowly lifted its captive into a
vertical position, so that she felt the weight of her new jugs pulling downwards on
her chest. They had softened noticeably during her inverted rest period, and
restrained from tipping her head she could no longer see their tops.
"Safety first," he said, while Ruta fitted a wide padded collar around the girl's
neck. "You've been off your feet for a long time, and we don't want you to hurt
yourself if you take a tumble." Ruta released the forehead strap, placed a small
helmet on the girl's head and buckled it under her chin. Then she held a curved
rubber mouthguard before the captive's face.
The girl hesitated, unsure whether she should cooperate. She just stared at the
guard with her mouth closed.
Ruta's smile faded slightly, but when she touched the guard to her subject's
closed lips the mouth opened reflexively and almost sucked it out of her fingers.
The girl was surprised by her own reaction - had she meant to do that? Ruta
twisted a knob on the outside of the guard, extending firm rubber pegs inside the
girl's mouth that spread her jaw and held the protective gag in place.
The developer pushed a lever and a quiet hiss of air was heard. The entire table
slowly descended until the soles of the strange shoes just touched the tile floor.
Ruta stood directly before the girl as the restraining bands were undone one by
one, and her feet took on more and more of her weight. The soreness in her feet
reappeared, but it was bearable, the shoes being well designed to support and
distribute the load, and the discomfort was insignificant next to her eagerness to
try her legs. She noted sadly that when her arms were released they hung limp
at her sides. She barely had the strength to swing them a few degrees.
The last band to go was the one above her boobs. Ruta put her big hands up
under her subject's arms as the developer released it.
"Step forward, I have you."
Tentatively, the girl slid her left foot forward a few inches. She felt tension
building at her back, as though she was stuck to the table. She pushed the right
foot forward with greater force, and there was an audible peeling sound as the
table released her. She stumbled forward into Ruta's arms, her knees shaking
violently and toes groping for the floor.
The huge woman laughed and hugged her much smaller charge, the girl's huge
round tits pressing against her therapists' midsection. "Is OK, OK! Take your
time, get feet under you!"
The girl calmed herself and with an effort pressed her toes to the floor, then
straightened her knees again. "See? Like riding bike, they say." Ruta stepped
back slowly, steadying the wobbly girl at arm's length. "Come to me."
The girl put one foot forward, then the other, taking halting steps a few inches
long. Balancing was tricky, especially with the ponderous new counterweights
that projected in front of her. She had to thrust her shoulders well back, so that
her hands dangled behind her wide hips, to balance the load of the volleyball-
sized orbs. With each step Ruta retreated a like distance, steadying the girl but
allowing her to carry her own weight.
When they had traveled a few feet, the doctor spoke. "Let her turn around and
see where she's been all this time."
Like a lead dancer Ruta pivoted the pair clockwise, the girl shuffling her feet as
they slowly spun. When she had turned completely around Ruta looked her up
and down to be sure she was steady, then braced her with one hand and
stepped to the side.
The "table" was like nothing the girl had imagined. There was no flat surface at
all - it was really a conglomeration of sculpted shapes, each one designed to
support a particular body part. The material that had supported her from behind
was a black mesh, through which she could glimpse the complex steel armature
that had carried her weight while allowing her limbs to be flexed or rotated
individually. The whole contraption was mounted inside a pair of sturdy steel
posts bolted to the floor, which allowed the "table" to spin between them. It was
an impressive piece of equipment - but sinister. As it stood there empty, the
open bands seemed to beckon to her, calling her back into their grasp. She
shuddered and took an unsteady step back.
"OK, is OK, I have you." said Ruta, stepping again between her charge and the
threatening device. "Come this way, we walk."
Slowly she turned them again and led her charge toward the door. When her big
butt bumped against it, she stopped and moved behind the girl, again placing
one hand under each arm. "Do you want go outside?"
The girl was suddenly afraid, feeling for a moment as though this little white room
was all she knew, and the world outside the door was a mysterious and
frightening place. But she nodded her helmeted head slowly, pressing her chin
against the padded collar. Ruta reached out and touched a hand-sized metal
plate next to the door, which swung open silently.
For a moment the girl remembered her dream, but there were no curtains or
plush carpet - only a bare, white-tiled hallway. Ruta gave her a nudge and
together they shuffled haltingly out of the room. They turned and began to make
their way slowly down the corridor, which was perhaps 60 feet long and broken
by several closed and windowless doors to either side. At the end of the corridor
was a large double door, which did have small windows at eye level.
"Very good!" the developer called from behind them. "When you get back from
therapy there'll be more exciting things waiting - the orders for your custom mods
have come in! We'll get started as soon as Ruta is done with you."
Ruta whispered to her: "Don't worry that now. Focus your steps, you do very
good."
Restricted by the collar from looking down at her feet, the girl had no choice.
With the unbalanced load she carried on her wobbly knees, she had to
concentrate entirely on staying upright on the tiny-bottomed shoes or she'd
topple over. The heavy tits swung back and forth with each step, making the
liquid plastic slosh inside and forcing constant compensations to maintain her
balance. She blushed at the humiliation of having such vulgar absurdities grafted
onto her body, and wondered if they were already full or destined to be made
even larger.
But as she moved slowly towards the double door, she grew steadier with every
step. She was an athlete, and had been in excellent condition when first brought
here. Thanks to Ruta's dedicated therapy, she had preserved much of her tone
and strength through her long confinement. Other than the new burdens on her
chest, her main problem was that her nervous system had misplaced some of the
details of how to walk. Now, as she shuffled down the corridor on her toes, the
blank spaces were rapidly reprogrammed and the front-heavy, tip-toe gait began
to feel almost natural. By the time they reached the end of the hall she was lifting
her feet and bending her knees, and Ruta only needed her fingertips to guide
and steady her.
When they stood before the double door the girl could see movement through
one of the small windows.
"This therapy room," said Ruta as she reached to the side of the hallway and
pressed another switch plate. The doors swung open and the girl gazed about a
room the size of a basketball court, which held a variety of equipment. As she
stepped inside, she thought it looked like a gym. There was a large area covered
with a green mat, an assortment of fitness machines - some familiar and others
somehow odd - and some big, bulky objects that were either modern-art
sculptures or padded gymnastics equipment.
The motion she'd glimpsed through the window belonged to the room's only other
occupant: another naked girl who rode one of the two treadmills set along the
back wall. Bent forward at the waist, she jogged along at what the girl could see
was a high speed and incline. Her legs were toned and thickly muscled,
disproportionate to her small waist and shoulders. Her chest was broad and
deep, but the boobs were mere swellings on the underside of her ribcage. The
girl from the table took in the other's feet: she ran on her toes, but her toes had
been fitted or fused into a single pad, like the "hoof" modification the computer
had shown her. A black bit was strapped across her mouth, pulling her lips back
from around her white teeth. Blinders almost completely hid her eyes, while
leads from the head harness bound her to the treadmill. The girl could not see
the runner's arms - she assumed they were bound behind her back.
"The new racing pony," Ruta said. "Always running! You lucky, get easy job.
Come! First thing is massage!" Gently she guided her to a pair of long padded
tables.
"Up!" Clumsily and with an assist from Ruta, the girl clambered onto a table and
laid face down. Her face fit neatly into an oval hole in the table, so that she
stared at the floor. Hollows were also located beneath her outsized and
unnaturally firm tits, so that laying face-down was not uncomfortable. Ruta
helped her lift her weakened arms and lay them at her sides.
"So long, so long. You must be so tight." She began kneading the long disused
muscles along the girl's back, and sent her quickly into a near-euphoric state. As
she thumped and squeezed up and down the back, butt, thighs, and neck, the
release of tension and feeling of fresh blood flowing through such a large area of
the girl's body was almost like an orgasm! When the massage was finally over
she was dazed, almost asleep.
"Up!" Ruta repeated, "Up!" The girl could barely lift her head out of the padded
hole. Ruta quickly slid her big hands between skin and leather table and partly
encouraged, partly lifted the girl back onto her feet. She had to steady her
charge for a moment as she recovered, and remembered what she'd learned
about walking in the training shoes.
"Now, we get good stretch!" She steered the gagged, toddling girl to the wide
mat.
"Down!" Awkwardly the smaller female fell to her knees, making her grotesquely
swollen boobs bounce uncomfortably. Ruta removed the helmet and collar, but
left the mouthguard in place.
"On back!" Her charge obeyed, and extended her legs. Ruta began working her
out throughly. Legs, butt, torso, neck - nearly every muscle in the girl's body was
stretched to its limit in a session that must have lasted an hour. The girl became
nervous when Ruta started in on her arms, but was relieved to find she'd
regained her original mobility. Ruta, though, asked for even more, trying it
seemed to wrench her wrists up between her shoulders. When she firmly bent
each arm double, a popping sound came from the elbow and the back of the
girl's hand touched her shoulder
The all-over stretching felt wonderful, but the subject of the attention was tired
when it was done.
"Now, your turn to work." Ruta smiled as they both sat on the mat facing each
other. "Give me your hands!"
The girl would have frowned, if she could. Ruta held her own hands at chest
height, inviting, but the girl's biceps were dead. Her arms barely twitched when
she tried to lift them. But with encouragement and cajoling, Ruta was able to
show her that she could use the smaller auxiliary muscles to raise her forearms.
At first the girl was somewhat encouraged, but it was so difficult and tiring to
make even the simplest motions that she began to despair. She remained
gagged, and her mask-like face could not communicate her frustration, so it was
not until Ruta saw tears welling in her eyes that the bulky therapist realized they'd
pushed far enough.
"OK, one more time dear." This time she grasped her charge's hands and
helped her raise them a little higher. The girl noticed black and red markings on
the inside of her forearms, and tilted her head to look closer. She saw block
letters a half-inch high, the top line in red and the bottom black:
NO SUSPENSION!
ARMS DECORATIVE ONLY
The girl turned her wet brown eyes back to Ruta.
"Is only ink," the big woman explained with a smile. "For clinic staff. Soon wash away. No
worry, your new man no see the ugly words!"
Her subject's mouth never stopped smiling around the rubber mouthguard, even
as tears fell onto the upper slopes of her jutting tits.
The racing pony went on jogging behind them. For a moment the only sounds in
the room were the thump of her hooves, and the puffs of air that rushed loudly in
and out of her bellows-like chest.
[....]
|
|
|