For weeks, we have been exploring your limits and My requirements. You have come to understand what you need, and how I can give it to you. You have accepted that My skill and knowledge are what you require to bring you to that special place, the place where your surrender brings release, where your submission brings contentment.
I have given you rules to follow, and instructions to obey, and so far you have done well. Now it is time for a test. My instructions are clear...dress in a mini skirt and Peasant blouse, heels, and of course no underwear, and come to Me at the appointed time. You shiver in anticipation as you dress, but just can't bring yourself to remain bare under your skirt, your shaven lips too sensitive to the cool air. As you pull on the thin, frilly nylon thigh cut bikini panties, you think, "Well, they are sexy and provocative, he won't mind." Little do you know what that decision will cost you.
The drive is uneventful, filled with thoughts of what is to come, and a slight disbelief that you are actually doing it! Soon you come to the house that My directions have indicated, and you leave the car and walk up the walk, palms wet, pussy moist, nipples tingling with lust.
You come in the door and stand there. I state at you, hard, and you flush, not able to believe that you forgot the most basic of My requirements. Hurriedly, you strip down, and I note the sheer nylon panties as they come off your ankles. That offending little wisp of nylon will cost you.
I step behind you and reach around to grab both tits at once, and squeeze, hard. You moan and lean back. Then, my hand drops between your legs, forcing them open. I reach in and pinch your lips, twist them, and find your clit already standing up at attention. A couple of pinches later, I release it and snarl. "These are in for some pain today." You sigh and acknowledge My statement with a humble nod, but secretly smile to yourself, since you know that your slut body craves the pain, and you really love how the pain brings unexpected, intense orgasms.
I direct you to the Captains chair in the middle of the floor. As I place you in it, I roughly grab both of your arms and pull them behind you, palms together. Quickly I tie them together at the wrists and the elbows, making them nice and tight and thrusting your tits out proudly for me to have. I don't resist the impulse to slap them each, once, hard, just to see them jiggle and hear you cry out. Your arms go over the back of the chair, the back pressing painfully into your armpits, as I secure them to the bottom rung of the crossbar. You are stretched taut, and then you gasp as I grab both legs and pull you forward, scooting your ass to the edge of the seat. Cruelly, I yank apart your ankles, exposing your cunt to me, and lift your thighs over the arms of the chair, spreading you wide open.
I tie each ankle firmly to the legs of the chair, keeping you spread wide, and tits out, and painfully immobile.
"Now the fun begins," I say, as I grab each nipple and twist it casually, as if to warm you up. Maintaining a hold on one nipple, I reach over to the table and open the bag there. What you see me pull out elicits a startled gasp of surprise. A tit press! Two flat slats of wood, about 6 inches long, with bolts and wing nuts at each end. I release your nipple long enough to loosen the wing nuts, then place the press on your right tit. I grab the nipple there, tightly, and pull it so your tit stretches nice and long for me, then tighten the press. Tighter and tighter it goes, until your tit is ballooned out, the nipple rigid and red, the tit flesh taut and tight. I experimentally squeeze that taut tit flesh to see if it takes the impression of my fingers. It does.
"Very nice" I remark, as I flick the nipple ever so stingingly with my fingertip. "But you don't match." Reaching into my bag of tricks I pull out an identical press, or at least it seems so at first glance. As you look further, however, you see the heads of upholstery tacks protruding from both inner surfaces. Not sharp per se, but the angular surfaces will have an interesting effect. As I pull your left nipple to stretch your tit for the press, you cry out "please, not the tacks." I look at you and very calmly slap you once, twice across your face, informing you thusly that you are NOT to speak or cry out, and that doing so brings punishment.
I continue pulling and stretching your left nipple until the tit is elongated enough for my liking. Then, I apply the press. As it presses tighter and tighter, you moan as you feel the tack heads press into your flesh, a new sensation that brings an unexpected and un-permitted orgasm. I watch as you writhe and moan, and remind you that it will cost you. You sob and acknowledge that unrelenting fact, still quivering from the pleasure of the release.
Now with both tits pressed tight, I turn my attention to your cunt. So nice and opened, so exposed, so vulnerable. I reach down and rub your wetness, that which I have drawn out. I press and pinch the lips, twisting them left and right, until your clits pops out for attention. I rub it slowly, in a circular motion, and I see you hips start to move. As I continue to rub it, I remind you that you are NOT to come without permission, and you sigh in distress. "Maybe a little something to remind you of your position" I say, and reach once again into the bag of tricks.
What comes out frightens you. Two dowels, each 6 inches long, with a single carriage bolt through the center, and the wing nut inside. On the ends of the outer one are two clothespins attached with twine. You think, "How the hell does THAT work?" as I approach.
"Stay still" I warn, as I press the length of the first dowel against your opening, splitting your lips and pressing directly onto your clit. You feel the pressure and it feels nice, but you suspect that something else is coming. And of course you are right. I take the clothespins from each end and attach them to each side of your lips; The pinching is enough to make you whimper, but wait! Now you perceive the meaning of the wing nut and bolt. As I turn the bolt, the dowel with the clothespins attached is driven further and further away from your cunt, pulling on the lips and pressing achingly into your spread lips. Each turn of the nut brings a new level of agony to your lips, your center, and your clit. As I reach what I believe to be your tolerance level, I stop and say "There, that should focus your attention for a while."
To review, you are tied to a chair, arms over the back, palms and elbows together, legs spread wide opened over the arms of the chair, ankles tied to the bottom. Your tits are in presses, one without and one with tack heads pressing into your flesh, and your poor pussy is clamped, pressed and pulled with my "cunt press" Your clit is on fire and you want to come, but must not for fear of further reprisals.
Then, you scream in terror as you see what next comes out from the bag of tricks. A similar press to the one now adorning your cunt, but this one with clover clamps on the ends. You shake your head vehemently no, no, no, as you are sure where this goes.
I place the inside dowel between your pressed and stretched tits, and you whimper as you know what is next. I grab left nipple and pull, twist, and pinch it until it stands up even more, if that is possible. Then I attach the clamp. PAIN! And the other one is not even attached yet, nor is there any tension. Savagely, I attack the other nipple, pulling twisting and pinching, until it is bright red and distended. I quickly attach the clover clamp, snapping it shut, and you cry out in agony. Now both clamps are attached, but hang loosely as the nut has not yet been tightened.
I look into your eyes, having had to raise you head to do so. "Ready?" I ask. "You do realize that this last is because you dared to wear panties, don't you?" You nod, sob, and plead for me not to do it, as you promise you will NEVER EVER wear them again. I nod and say, "I know you won't, but still the punishment must progress. Otherwise, how will you know I mean business?" Saying that, I start to tighten the nut, pulling the clamps ever tighter as they are forced away from your body. With each turn, the clamps get tighter and tighter, until your nipples are flat, red, and stretched to their limits.
"I think an hour like that should be enough for you to reflect on your behavior," I say, and I step away and look at you. What a picture! Tits pressed purple, nipples pinched flat and stretched taut, pussy lips separated and puffy from the clothespins, clit pressed and throbbing, arms and legs tightly restrained, and tears running down your face.
"Panties and un-permitted orgasms brought you to this" I remind you as I gently stoke the sides of your tormented tits and tenderly touch your lower lips. "Behave, and you will be set free. Misbehave, and more awaits" With that I leave you to contemplate you behavior and your fate.
LADIES IN NUDE
LADIES IN NUDE
Win a trip to Moscow right now!
Rate this story