This disclaimer must
be read before reading further:
The following story
is fictional and contains explicit pornographic material; it is not for minors
or the close-minded.
Alex Streuth is the pseudonym of the author and a fictional
character in these stories. Any
characters, places, businesses and/or circumstances etc. described herein are
entirely fictional. None of the
following is based on real organisms or organizations, and any semblance to
anyone or anything real, living, deceased or imaginary, (except where
specifically noted in the ‘Continuity and Background’ and ‘Literary Notes’
sections) is purely coincidental.
This story is
copyrighted (January 2006) by the author with permission granted to make copies
only for personal use, they may not be redistributed to others.
The author cannot be responsible
for the existence or delivery of any content which some may find offensive;
reader be warned, by continuing further with this document you agree not to
hold any party responsible for the delivery or existence of its contents.
Due to the extreme
nature of the following material the author advises anyone who has stumbled
across this document by mistake to destroy it if it is in the form of a hard
copy, or to delete it and then write over its memory address if it is a soft
copy.
Thank you and enjoy
the following quality presentation.
--
Continuity and Background:
This story takes place within the charming
dominion of
My influences come from the
writings and imagination of Benson and Gord as well
as fiction from mygagorder and thundershrk. The prominent themes are humiliation,
degradation, mental conditioning, transformation, modification, bimbofication, objectification, big boobs, huge lips,
forced feeding, dehumanization, helpless females, Dominant males, and long term
suffering and servitude.
---
About the Author: My hobbies include collecting, examining, and
designing. I sometimes come across
inspiring stories or goings-on about Cherish and have been asked by the “Committee
for the Preservation of the Historical Record of Proper Female Deportment” (the
CPHD) to assemble and detail these accounts for posterity.
Authorship Disclosure: The following material originates from
personal first-person observations, from video recordings, diaries, medical and
scientific notes and other privately held (and confidential) sources, as well
as from public town events and records.
I then transpose these accounts into the third person and pen these
tales in my free time. While this is
intended as a work of non-fiction for Cherish public record some dramatic and editorial license has been
taken to help increase readership interest.
Also, as I am extremely busy
not all of the gathered data can be included in each presentation. If you are an accredited researcher with a
genuine academic interest you may be allowed access to more extensive
information. In order to request this
more thorough (and graphically detailed) explanation of certain material
presented, please send your request (noting with which area of record your
particular interest lies) to Streuthanasia@gmail.com.
Bunny’s Big
Bust
Carl knew that Bunny was hiding in here somewhere. She was a very dumb girl and did not pay attention or listen to instruction well at all. He had told her to sweep the kitchen half an hour ago but she had gotten distracted by something and now he didn’t know where she was.
Discipline didn’t seem to sink in either, she was simply that dense. It was rather annoying having to chase after her all the time, but over time Carl had gotten used to it. He had originally bought her as a maid but she hadn’t been good at that, still wasn’t good at it. Her mind wandered, what there was of it. He would set a broom in front of her and tell her to sweep and he would come back five minutes later and she would be chewing on the bristles like a dummy.
Still, she was his and he cared for her like any of his possessions, so he found other uses for her. She hadn’t made a very good maid but she showed promise as a pet, so he had been off to the store to purchase a new maid for the house and was, even now, in the process of hunting Bunny down so that he could give her to his nephew as a house warming present.
Carl’s nephew had just moved to Cherish a week ago; he was
very young, perhaps nineteen, and was very excited to start living as a lord of
the land. His father, Carl’s dear
brother, had passed away recently and it had been up to Carl to convince his
nephew to come live with him, in
It hadn’t taken more than a short visit to convince the young man that Cherish was most certainly the place to be. They knew how to have a good time here, leisurely hours at work (Carl had helped him get a job as an apprentice to old man Downey, the shoe-shodder) and a small parcel of land, a modest house, and access to beautiful young women, in all shapes, sizes, and price ranges.
His nephew, Todd, hadn’t inherited overly much, but it was enough to gain him entrance and set him up in his present state. It was his new idea to present Bunny to his nephew as a personal gift, a way of welcoming one of his blood to the fold. But right now, at this moment, Carl had to catch Bunny first.
--
He peeked under the table, but she was not there. He scanned the room, she was nowhere in sight. He whirled around swiftly, thinking he had seen some movement go past. He ran out the archway, back into the kitchen, turned right and dashed into the living room. He glanced around, nothing. . . He furled his brow. She had to be somewhere.
“Uncle are you here? You home?” Todd called out.
Carl gave the room a mean look, as though daring it to move away while he wasn’t looking, and then turned to greet his visitor. His nephew had just stopped by and he hoped that Bunny would stay hidden since her existence, and subsequent gifting, was supposed to be a surprise.
--
Bunny sniffed the air. She cocked her head and then tilted it back, drawing the scent in the air into her nostrils in quick, short inhalations. She definitely smelled pie, on the air. She put a hand to her chin, curling her fingers and striking a pose, thinking. It always took her awhile to complete a thought. After a moment her hand started drifting up the side of her face, her expression getting blanker as she forgot what she was thinking about.
A stranger passing by waved at the absent young trollop, noticing her lithe frame perched in the doorway. He noticed her twirling her finger in her curly blond locks and smiled appreciatively. “Hello,” he greeted her, not stopping in his walk as he did so.
A few moments later he passed out of her view but he still kept a nice mental picture of her in his mind, a gentle girl, decked out in a sweet negligee, golden curls, a big soft bouncy bow adorning her hair and cute little kneesocks kicking up her calves. He patted his crotch, promising himself that he’d take relief as soon as he finished his morning constitutional, he had a bright young thing at home himself, just waiting to be put to good use.
Bunny watched idly as the man had walked past, she continued twirling her hair, lost in thought, that is, having lost all of her thoughts. Slowly her jaw dropped open, the degree at which this occurred was so subtle that, after a few moments, it seemed as though her mouth had always been agape; she seemed not to notice. A thick line of spittle gobbed up and then dribbled over the front of her lip, sliding down her chin before beginning to strand down towards the ground.
She batted her eyes, the sun distracting her, and she shook her head, sending the spittle to the sides of her face, where it stranded prettily. The moistness on her lips reminded her that there was something in her mouth and she started chewing her gum again, trying after a moment or so of jawing it to blow a bubble. She failed, the gum being not intended for this use (of the chewing only variety) but she nevertheless persisted, drawing air in again and then trying to blow. The gum tasted like pie for some reason.
That was it, pie! She recalled now, there was that scent wafting on the wind. As her mind whirled into action her mouth’s coordination fell out of whack and she ended up pushing the gum out of her mouth when she would have tried to blow it into a bubble. It fell onto her right shoe, its wet pink mass sticking to her shiny patent pink pump and blending in, camouflaged, pink on pink.
Bunny lifted her head up a bit, so that her nose was higher in the air, she sniffed again, drawing the air in in quick little spurts, testing the scent. After a moment she skipped and hopped off down the sidewalk in search of the pie.
--
“Did you leave the door open when you came in?”
“Oh, my bad Uncle, I must have, no biggie though, its nice and warm out today.”
“No biggie? No biggie, son (Carl was in the habit of calling his nephew son in the familiar fashion but it still rang with a bit of condescension) let me tell you. I gave you a key to this house so you could visit, not let all of my things out. Who knows what might have escaped if I hadn’t noticed this when I did. Don’t you ever assume that just because I discipline them in the house that they know better than to try to run away… especially the new ones, those ones are the stupidest of them all: Just because they have no hope of getting away doesn’t mean they won’t try.”
Todd listened to his Uncle respectfully, aware of the mistake he had made. He would remember to lock the door the next time he came in, this was all so new to him, he had to keep in mind that Cherish, with its unusual pleasures, also had unusual responsibilities. It hadn’t occurred to him that a simple oversight, an open door, might be a big deal. Here in Cherish, he was learning, security and control are the top concerns of most homeowners.
“So, like, do you think anything got away?”
“Well, there’s one way to find out my boy, let me check my inventory.” Carl was referring to the electronic registry in the house security center that monitored the status of each of his women. He didn’t have the most up to date system so his information was limited to whether his women were inside, or outside of the house. More detailed information, like exact position, required more sophisticated, and therefore expensive, equipment that he just didn’t need: He had a simple lifestyle and a smallish house and didn’t have to worry about twenty rooms that a servant might be wandering around in.
Right away though, even with his primitive monitoring system, he noticed the flashing red light next to the name Bunny; she was out of the house.
--
Bunny trotted on down the way, her locator tag’s signal beamed out around her as she hopped, failing to reach her owner’s security receiver. Any of Carl’s possessions which were outside of the small radius each locator transmitted would cause the security center to record a ‘failed transmission’ on the girl’s part, this in turn would cause the flashing red light.
Carl was not stupid, however, otherwise he would not have been able to avoid the fines the city charges for property recovery; each of his possessions was also equipped with a one-time use homing beacon (which was cheaper, since he could just replace them when needed) which only activated once he pressed the flashing button on the console; the idea being that he would only need to use it if something went missing and could save over the cost of the reusable type.
Right now Carl was mashing his index finger down on the flashing red button, snatching up the corresponding tool which he would use to track down the missing maiden. In a hurry he pulled his windbreaker on and then motioned Todd to follow him as he rushed into the garage.
He quickly mounted one of the bicycles he kept in the garage (autos in Cherish being, of course, both unnecessary, difficult to maintain, and escape risks were reserved for official use only around town: Carl’s motorcar was stored on the edge of town) and indicated for Todd to do the same for the other bike.
“But this one’s a girl one, its all pink!” Todd protested.
“Fine, stay here and watch the house, don’t let anymore of my toys out either you!” Carl responded angrily. The bicycle Todd didn’t want to ride wouldn’t have done him much good anyway, it had training wheels on it and, due to its fixed loose gear ratio, caused the pedals to spin overly much for very little forward motion. Carl used it when he went on rides about town and wanted female company, his doll or consort of the moment could ride along behind him, red-faced and having trouble keeping up, while he teased her and asked her if she needed lessons in how to ride.
The training wheels helped for when the woman, inevitably, took a breather, so that it would not tip. Carl then enjoyed whizzing by as he literally ran circles around her.
In his haste he had forgotten the non-utility of the thing, but when Todd had whined it had reminded him… it would be better if Todd watched the house anyway, provided he did not cause any more screwups. Carl licked his lips, thinking. No, it was okay, this way Todd would still not meet Bunny until he had recaptured her, the surprise would remain intact.
“Yes, yes, wait here and watch the house, I’m just vexed, of course it’s a girl’s bike, you stay here, don’t worry, I’ll get her back, no harm done, have fun while I’m gone, I won’t be long anyhow.” Carl had cheered up a little, he was just excited because this sort of thing didn’t happen often, and was unsettling, but there was no reason to panic, everything was under control.
--
Bunny had hopped up in front of the window that had the pie, it was blueberry and smelled oh-so-sweet. She craned her neck up, sniffing at it, staring intently at its flaky crust. Her mouth started to water, she closed her eyes and inhaled. Drool accumulated at the sides of her mouth, threatening to spill down her fat, cushiony lips… She smiled at the thought of the pie in her mouth, mimicked chewing it, her fantasy playing out in her mind. As she chewed at the air the drool which had pooled at the front of her mouth began to spill out, splashing out in little jumps as she snapped at the imaginary pie.
She shifted her weight, settling her body in its stance on the sidewalk and suddenly slipped in the small puddle she had created. It was really bad luck her falling like this but she landed on her posterior, with minor injury.
“Ow,” she cried. She rolled to the side a bit and rubbed her rump. She ran her pink lacquered nails over the spot on her backside that had absorbed the damage, her tailbone aching slightly. It was a good thing she had such a generous amount of cushion back there, thanks to the shapely bubble butt she had developed while here in Cherish.
It was strange really--her thoughts parting for a moment for a burst of clarity and introspection to pierce that thick web of mucus which functioned as her brain--how her butt had gotten so big. She remembered having a much less shapely posterior before she had moved to Cherish. But wait, that wasn’t right, she hadn’t moved here… In fact, now that she thought about it, this whole town was kind of weird. She scratched her neck, the idle nuances of her body slowly creeping back into her wakening mind. She felt an itch on her leg and she scratched it, a piece of dust fluttered by her eye and she blinked: It was as though she was wakening from a daze.
This was all so strange, like a dream, this town, the clouds in the sky, the grass, sidewalk, people. The people! She looked around now, suddenly spooked, the seconds ago innocent drawl of passsersby had taken on a much more menacing air. She trembled a bit, nervous, alert, suddenly much more intelligent and calculating then she had been in, well she couldn’t think about that now. The people! What would she do? She would act normal that’s what. She didn’t know how but she had fallen asleep, or been drugged, she wasn’t sure, but she needed to escape.
This whole town was, well, she didn’t know what it was but just… act natural now. Stand up, brush off the, no, don’t brush off the dirt, act like everything’s fine, don’t call attention to yourself. In a sudden moment of inspiration she stuck a finger in her hair and twirled it, giggling “Teehee.”
The small amount of attention that she had gathered from across the street in the form of a few passersby dissipated in amused smiles and patronizing mirth. Life continued on as normal, the tension abated.
Bunny, no, no, Tricia, Tricia, oh god what’s my own fucking
last name… Tricia, Hol,
Just act natural, smile, curtsy, was the curtsy too much? Is he going to, does he suspect, what the fuck is that woman doing? She’s, she’s sniffing me? What the fuck, she’s acting just like a dog, like an animal! Oh no, what if she knows, what if she can smell my fear, no that’s silly…
Sweat began to form on Tricia’s brow, she gulped nervously, the dog began to growl a bit (the woman on all fours growling and tugging at Tricia’s shoe.)
“Now, now,” the man said, “Come on you stupid mutt, calm down there, leave this alone and come now, I can see we’ve made some pie, if you behave you’ll get some crumbs. Wouldn’t you like some crumbs you dumb dog?”
The dog, the woman, tugged a bit more on Tricia’s shoe but then nuzzled up against her master’s leg and nodded into his pant; he reached down with his semi-free hand and rubbed her head, the fake fur of the suit she was wearing fuzzy under his strokes.
“Come now, inside, get!” He gestured with his hand, the other arm adjusting his groceries against his hip as he drew up next to the front door. He motioned for his pet to crawl in through the doorflap, which she did with practiced ease. He released his grip on the leash as she made it inside, covering any attempt to escape back out with a practiced placement of his foot while he leaned up against the door, shifting his weight so that he could slide the outside lock back into place with his other foot. Once he had secured the flap he jingled his keys out of his pocket and then began his entrance home.
The jingling of the keys had mixed with another jingling, like a bicycle bell, someone was coming down the street in a hurry. Tricia was on pins and needles, she was waiting for this guy to get inside, she was terrified now that someone would realize that she could think and she didn’t know how or why she hadn’t been able to before but everything was just so, ernnnnnnnn, she was frustrated and anxious, very anxious; she had clutched her teeth, gritting them a bit in a sort of forced, frozen smile of fear. Oh god if he looks at me now, it was all too much. She wanted to bolt, to just run down the sidewalk, but she wouldn’t make it ten paces, or maybe, what if she did, she wanted to scream.
Would she be stopped? She had the element of surprise, maybe she could get this man, while he was unawares, there was a garage attached to the house, she could see it. She could steal his car, she could get away, maybe that would work. Here he was now, he had his key out, he was going to open the door, she had to act now…
“Bunny! Oh Bunny there you are.” Bunny froze.
Carl was panting, out of breath, he had been peddling like mad down the street, drawing curious glances from his fellows but he was here now, she was safe, oh he had been so worried about her. The last thing he had wanted was to incur the public embarrassment of a hunt. Not that he was afraid she’d try to run away, its just that he knew how scatter-brained she was.
“There you are Bunny, I’ve been worried sick about you, now why’d you go and run off like that for?”
“Huh,” the other man said, the one with the dog, who had now succeeded in getting his door open and was checking his mail. He kept one foot in the door in case anything tried to get out, and he had set the groceries down inside. He started to close the door, not having entered yet, as he noticed the small drama of the man on the bicycle now.
“You’re, um, let me think, Carl Ashby right? You live in number, um, 42?”
“Yes that’s right, pleased to meet you, I’ve seen you in the grocery store but I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Yes that’s right, name’s Tom,” the two men shook. “Tom Millrows, I’ve been in Cherish since my pa came here, 22 years ago.”
“Is that right, well it’s a pleasure and an honor,” Carl was never too pooped to make a good impression, especially to a man who might hold some weight on the town council.
“Say you wouldn’t mind, would you,” Carl continued, “If I troubled you for a glass of water, I’ve just been chasing all over after this pet of mine who ran off after my thoughtless nephew left the door open (in public this admission would be an embarrassment, but here, between these two men, it was a confiding secret, a way of acting familiar while self-abasing in front of this man) and let her out.”
“Eh?” Tom loved acting hard of hearing, and since he was getting on in age he got to mess with the younger guys a bit, “What’s that?”
“I said,” Carl spoke up a bit, not wanting to offend with an overt raise in volume, “would you mind if I came in and had a glass of water, I’m awfully parched.”
Tom had heard him just fine but had enjoyed his little game. He didn’t mind being neighborly but he liked his private fun, it was his little way of establishing dominance, to himself anyway, over this new fellow, by tricking him this small bit. “Sure, come on in.”
Bunny was sweating, unsure what to do, here was this man again, this man who, she had vivid memories now, he had been, he had been, she shuddered, he had been inside her. She sniffled a bit, holding back a tear, she couldn’t let on now!
Carl noticed his pet’s sniffle, and then eyed the pie. He mistook her action for one of sniffing, of taking in the pastry’s wholesome scent. “Oh ho ho, my little pet, what a mischievous one you are indeed. Why Tom, I do think she had designs on your pie.” Carl bantered as he led his pet inside, prodding her along in front of him after grabbing his bike under one arm (wheeling it) and leading both of his things inside with him.
“What’s that?” Tom asked.
“I said my little girl here was after your pie, that’s what she was doing missing.”
Carl was greeted by an eager young doggy as it rushed up and bounced around his heels, sniffing and trying to all appearances to paw at his pants.
“Oh don’t mind her she’s just excitable, its not often we have guests.”
Carl reached down and pet the doggy’s head.
“Come on into the kitchen and sit down, I’ll get you some water, and then we’ll see about that pie… Stacey!” Tom called out across the house, motioning for his guests to sit at the table.
Carl sat down in one of the sturdy wooden chairs, admiring briefly its ornate carved design before scanning to the sides for the setting statuses. He noted a few padded lumps around the table, and guessed, correctly, that they were for women, pets, and playthings. Each lump was to the side of a human’s setting, and on the floor. He directed Bunny to sit down on the lump beside him, to the right.
As he relaxed he took in the room, frowning appreciatively to himself and nodding slightly in response to the nice layout. He glanced up to the right and noticed a set of trophy mounts on the wall, souvenirs from the Master of the House’s hunting ability. The first of the two was obviously the more prominent, displaying, Carl would have to guess, and he liked to think his appraisal ability was pretty keen, at least 15 points, or a double M cup in layman’s terms.
Yup, and she was a beaut too, wasn’t she, such nice curves, angling ever so subtly, the skin taut with no sign of sag—any amount of sag caused depreciation in value almost right away and usually indicated a less vigorous prize, or a less worthy capture due to its age.
Without thinking he fetched a carrot out of his pocket, getting ready to stand. He put the carrot in front of Bunny’s face without looking at her, offering her the treat out of habit, a reward for taking her place at his side and because he was feeling affectionate. He kept his gaze on that beaut of a trophy, reaching out to pat Bunny’s head after she had taken the carrot from him.
Tricia was beside herself, she had a carrot in her mouth, she had taken it out of the hand of this man! It had taken all of her willpower to remind herself not to take it from him with her hand but instead to clench it with her teeth. That had then set her into a frenzy because she noticed that most of her teeth were missing! She so wanted to run her fingers up over her teeth and figure out what the fuck was wrong with them but she was sure that this man with the carrot was watching her every move.
She dared not risk a glance up, she knew that her place was supposed to be on the ground, out of sight and out of mind, so she waited, with a goddess’s patience, until she was indeed out of mind. He’ll step away, or sit down and converse… But god how was she supposed to get out of here?! The garage, still the garage, same plan, get a car, hunker down, escape. What about the men, there were two of them, they would stop her, one was old, maybe she could take him… She tried flexing her muscles subtly, wondering whether she had the strength.
Her arms, usually fit and firm felt a little stringy, as though she hadn’t been working out. What the fuck had they done to her! They had atrophied, obviously, her bunny self, she cringed, she could remember some of it, she straightened her face, hope he wasn’t watching just then, her bunny self hadn’t done much physical activity.
Except for that… for screwing. Oh god she wanted to throw up, and here she was, her face not five inches from that vile man’s crotch, as he pet her head. She waited, breathed, masked her face, her expressions, and tried to just stare blankly ahead.
It worked, Carl glanced down to look at his pet’s face and saw her blank stare. From an ordinary pet he would have expected a look of pleasure but he knew how dumb Bunny was, that’s one of the reasons he loved her so much, she was so stupid, such a dumb, no-brained bimbo, a fuckbunny, an empty toy, that he just loved to play with her. Maybe he didn’t need to give her to Todd after all, I mean, after all, he had let her out of the house, he couldn’t possibly take good care of her.
Would he, Carl ruminated, thinking about Todd, remember to brush her, to bathe her, to dress her and change her? Would he remember to feed her? To feed her! Where was that pie? Carl strode off suddenly in the direction Tom had gone, where the devil was that man.
Bunny sighed. Oh god she was relieved, she was almost sure that he had known, that he had guessed, that he was going to realize that she could think. She steadied her breathing. What now, what now, what now what now what now I have to act now so little time act now this is my only chance! She breathed again. Slow down, no one knows, its okay, I can do this. Let me think…
The dog had come up and was sniffing her again, it rubbed up against her behind, sniffing around amongst her privates, rubbing its nose into her skirt. It moved up around her and sniffed her hair, around her sides, its tongue hanging out, dripping on the floor as it inspected her. “Awroof roof,” it barked. The woman was well trained, operated on by one of the best, right now she was saying something but the voicebox she had been given corrected the sound into ‘Roof, awroof woof!”
After a few moments the dog lost interest in her and walked off. Bunny’s heart was throbbing, she was terrified of that dog, she knew it was really a woman but it had acted just like a dog. It was silly and stupid but all she had been able to think while it had been sniffing her was “Oh my god dogs eat bunnies, I hope it doesn’t think I’m a bunny, I hope it doesn’t find out I’m a rabbit, I hope it doesn’t find out I’m a rabbit, dogs eat hares! They rip their throats, oh my god please let it go away!”
And when it had sniffed her hair she was certain its jaws were going to clench down on her neck and kill her. She was petrified. It had taken all of her strength not to cry out for help, which surely would have given her away, but she was so scared it was going to kill her. When it had walked off she lay there for many moments in a cold sweat, unable to think, in a daze. She knew that she should be acting, planning, but she was too relieved and stunned after her near-death experience to do anything at the moment.
After a minute of calm breathing she looked to the sides, she shifted her weight onto her hands and knees, ready to plop back down onto her stomach if she heard footsteps.
Bunny was nervous now, what if Carl came back? What if he came back and she was gone, what would he think?! Well she had to do something; if she just waited he was bound to find out eventually. Wait, she heard something, something coming.
It was the dog again! It was shuffling over towards her, and now she heard footsteps… maybe it had told! It had told! Carl knew, he was coming now…
“Sure is a beauty isn’t she, yup, I got her, oh let me think…”
Carl stared up at the trophy, listening to the old geezer recount his tale of conquest.
Bunny relaxed, but just a bit, that damn dog was on her again, sniffing, wagging its tail, investigating something. The dog was sniffing her shoe, tearing at the leather a bit, she wished it would leave her alone. After a minute it went away, apparently satisfied. She didn’t know what it wanted with her shoe, it had been there earlier too, when she had been outside, it had growled.
It wasn’t growling now, in fact it wasn’t making any noise, just sort of chewing. She listened and after a bit it walked off. She listened to the men as they talked about the piece on the wall:
“Yeah and after I caught her the men didn’t believe me when I told them I had got one this big,” Tom stretched his arms out, mimicking the size of the bust he had up on the wall. “So of course I had to have it mounted, they wouldn’t believe me, can you, I mean, no sag, sixteen points, perfect skin, tight, taut, smooth like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I bet you oil her every day,” Carl said in awe.
“You betcha, course I do, sometimes twice a day, hell, sometimes I just spend hours buffing and waxing her. What kind o’ self respecting man would I be if I didn’t?” Tom had warmed up to Carl during his brief visit. Any man who could appreciate a trophy like that was O.K. in his book.
“Now the other one, that’s another story in itself, do you have time?” Tom leaned back, resting his arm on the table, his hand made the tell-tale clink of keys as it did; Bunny’s ears perked up.
Tom shifted a bit, leaving the keys on the table, looking over his shoulder towards the kitchen. Carl had murmured his assent, adding only that he had to make a quick call home to check on things.
“Ok the phone is right in here, just follow me.”
The two men walked out of the room, conversing in light tones as they went. Bunny jerked up to her feet, in a panic, she looked about for the keys, there they were, she reached out, grabbed at them, they slid out of her hand, oh what the fuck her thumbs didn’t want to grip? What the fuck was this. She stared at her hand, it was in some kind of glove, like a mitt, what the, its like, its like a rabbit’s paw. Man that’s just messed up. I have to get out of here.
Bunny struggled with her hands, unsure of how to proceed. She stopped, made a quick mental calculation and then decided she could drive without thumbs, it would be hard, weird, but she didn’t have time to free her hands right now, they could be back at any moment. She batted the keys to the edge of the table and then hunched down, into a squat, shoving them into her mouth where she pocketed them. She turned her head to the side, looking right, then left, quickly, no one had seen her. She looked around for the garage door, a side door, any door.
Quickly she hopped a few paces, before, mentally slapping herself in the forehead she straightened up into an erect pose and walked quietly forward. Fucking bunch of sickos what did this to me, I’m going to have this whole town bombed once I get out, just wipe it the fuck off the map.
She grumbled to herself under her breathe, the taste of cold metal in her mouth steeling her resolve. She squinted a bit in the soft light, peering out through the drapes, into the street for a moment, before resuming her quiet search for the garage. It had to be somewhere over here…
--
“Okay yeah, yeah, no that’s fine, no really,
“Yes normally I have Earl Grey, I prefer a nice British tea,
but the wife, well, you know, she wants one of those girly drinks so I buy
Man, Carl thought, he was really getting soft in his old age, maybe that’s what happens to guys when they get older, he expressed concern for a moment before righting his expression to a more palatable one of understanding. “Oh yeah yeah, women, yup.” Carl scratched behind his head, didn’t make any sense to him, but whatever, the old man’s just going senile.
Of course in his house Carl called the shots, and his women obeyed without question, that’s just the way it was. Surely Tom would have seen this to be the best way if he wasn’t old and infirm, yes, that must be it, Tom decided. Old age just makes you soft. He shrugged it off and resumed listening.
“So that’s how I bagged me that one on safari. Now, as I said, she’s not quite as large, but, as you can see, she holds a special place for me in my heart.”
“And in your hearth too,” Carl joked. Tom chuckled too.
“Now, about that pie, do you want a piece for your pet too… erm, rabbit is it? Is it allowed human food? I feed my dog table scraps occasionally but it knows to stay away from our food, still, that’s just my policy and if you feed your pet I won’t be offended. Just keep an eye out, if you do, because Muffles, that’s my dog, likes to misbehave sometimes and I wouldn’t put it past her to take some from your pet.
Now it was Carl’s turn to be soft, because he did feed his pets human food, and he had wanted to give his Bunny some of that pie, that is, if the old man had offered.
“Yeah, a piece for her too would be swell.”
Oh how cute, Tom thought, he calls it a ‘her’, that’s a riot, thinking of his pet as though it were a real female. Well, he eyed Carl for a moment, takes all kinds I guess. Now who in their right mind would have, you know, relations, with an animal, well, that was just a little bit beyond him, but, to each their own, to each their own…
Tom yelled “Heather, two pieces of pie, pronto!”
“Aren’t you going to have one?” Carl asked.
“I would but my stomach, those blueberries have so much acid, you go on though.”
That’s strange, Carl thought, why’d he have her make one in the first place then? And, is his wife named Tracey, or Heather? Does he have a wife?
“If you don’t mind my asking, why’d you have your, wife is it? Why’d you have your wife make you one?”
“Oh I didn’t, but they just enjoy baking, and, well, I’m not going to deny the missus anything, at least not if it keeps them in the kitchen.”
Now this Carl understood, well, partly at least… them ?
“Right, right. Well and here they come now, and,” Carl gasped, he had been expecting a woman as old as Tom to come staggering out of the kitchen, but here, instead, was a flower, young, beautiful, why she couldn’t be more than a teenager, plucked fresh from the tree, so to speak.
“How old is, she’s, why, what a…”
”Nineteen,” Tom answered, with practiced ease and noticeable pride. He himself was almost three times as old.
“Wo-w-wow,” was all Carl could say, having to struggle to keep his composure. And his jaw wasn’t the only thing having trouble keeping off the floor, the woman, no, the angel in front of him, for she could only be from out of the heavens itself, made by god for man’s delight sported two of the most gigantic, longest, heaviest tits he had ever seen.
“Nine, nine, nineteen? How, how, how, ma, ma, ma, ma, mama, mama.”
“Ninety-two,” Tom answered, in response to the question of how large her chest size was, “inches.”
“Nine, nine, nine, nine, two, two, two, two, inches, teen, nine, teen, nine, two…” Carl was a blubbering mass. It seemed impossible. He had been living here how many years now? He hadn’t seen anything like it. Why, how, what, who?
Tom guided him over to a chair and sat a piece of pie down in front of him, he held onto the other piece of pie, noticing that Bunny was gone but opting not to care, intent instead upon watching Carl’s reaction to his greatest prize. His chest swelled up with pride and he waited an appropriate amount of time before giving a tour. He pulled a neighboring chair out and sat down, patting his lap for his wife.
After she had lumbered her way over to him, her form teetering on its hobbled high-heeled shoes, she gingerly swept her hair back away from her head and sat down, adjusting her dress so as to drape off to the side. The most obvious feature of her garment was that it was entirely frontless. In the same way that most ball gowns are totally backless this one was the exact reversal, coming up high on the back, hugging her neck almost, before spilling out around her shoulders and then burgeoning down the sides to catch up again just above her navel, in fact in almost an exact mimic of how her cleavage flowed down her. It plunged down somewhat farther though, coming to rest in her lap and then spilling over that to finally stop, just touching her knees.
“The angle’s a bit off now, I know, but you saw it, when she was standing, it comes down to her heels, her nipples touch the floor when she is wearing flats.”
“My goodness,” Carl exclaimed!
“Yes, its true, and its all natural, every single bit of it, I know you’re wondering how, but I’m going to tell you. You see it took some very proper grooming and breeding, that is to say, I had to raise her since she was a young’un to bring them in just right.”
Carl asked his next question with his expression.
“No, I never, in fact, she’s still a virgin, on account of well, now that she’s the right age, I can’t get to it!” Tom laughed and slapped his knee. His bride blushed and hid herself under her bangs, batting an eye out at Carl by trained habit in response to his stare.
“Well, when they’s was first coming in you see, this was, let me think, eight years ago now,” he was interrupted by a slight noise from his wife. He leaned in to hear her whisper.
“That’s right, eight years in two weeks, its their anniversary, we’ll have been together eight years they and I.” Tom looked so happy. He reached down and pet them
“Oh but where are my manners,” Tom said, and he gestured with his hand for Carl to touch them as well.
Carl looked at the owner of the prodigious cleavage for a moment first, almost as though asking for permission but all he got from her was a dropped gaze and a demure expression.
“Its alright,” Tom said, “go ahead, they won’t bite,” he guffawed.
Carl reached his hand out, almost afraid that when he did they would burst, as though the fairy tale were only sustained by the lack of proof that a solid touch would bring.
He reached out, daintily, hesitant, with just a finger, and touched, it did not pop. He pushed on it a bit, it yielded, that soft flesh depressed under his finger, even springed back when he let go, and he was sure now, that it was real—and it was like striking gold!
“
“They’re real, oh my god they’re real!”
“That’s right,” Tom said, smiling with an amplitude of pleasure, “and they’re all natural.”
“But, how?” Carl asked.
“Like I said, you have to ween them right, raise them up, encourage them…” He motioned for Carl to lean forward a bit.
“You see,” Tom continued, “most men, they take for granted that a woman’s breasts are going to come in and come in fully when they do. What they don’t realize is that a little nurture and a healthy diet are really needed for a woman to realize her maximum potential.”
“Potential,” Carl repeated, not really asking a question.
“So you get them young,” Tom went on, “before they develop, okay? Its like a flower and you’ve just got the bulb, it hasn’t sprouted yet.” Carl was nodding.
And they talked, with Tom motioning to the tits beneath him as he did, talking about how one has to water a plant, and nurture it, take care of it and make sure it has proper nutrients and is in firm soil. He described the proper diets and exercises, described the proper times of the day and of the month when a woman must be trained to focus her growth potential into her chest, as though directing her pituitary to a secret design by willpower and mantra.
To Carl it all sounded rather mystical, but to Tom it was like explaining Science. Before long Carl had decided he wanted to learn more, to study these secrets, in fact it was like he had been asleep his whole life and just now woken up to the real possibilities in life.
“Like a plant, got to watch it grow, nurture it,” Carl was repeating, listening to Tom’s words, hearing his words and watching his hand motions, staring at the living proof in front of him, that coquettish beauty with the elusive face and the most-prominent bosom he had ever seen.
He interrupted, “Is she shy? I notice she doesn’t look at me at all.”
“Damn straight,” Tom said, “women aren’t supposed to look at men, or at anything for that matter unless they’re in the kitchen.” Tom was indignant but then remembered his manners after a moment. “Excuse me, pardon me, its my fault, I let her out of the kitchen, we were going to have the pie, and I got carried away with introductions, speaking of which I don’t know if I ever formally introduced you?”
Carl shook his head no. “Well where are my manners, here,” Tom gripped his wife’s hair, swirling it around so that it encircled her head, guiding it around in a well-practiced movement, securing her face behind a wall of dense foliage, effectively shutting her off from the world, “Carl this is Stacey,” he said, motioning to his wife’s left tit, “and this is Heather,” he said, motioning to her right. He smiled, acting for all the world as though he expected Carl to greet his two wives.
Well, Carl thought about it, it did seem kind of right, now that he looked at it, each of the woman’s breasts were, in a sense, an individual, each one possessed enough mass to be a person, and, from what he had seen, and he had seen a lot of her, it was splayed out in front of him, they each possessed as much, if not more, personality.
“Stacey, Heather, glad to meet you both, I’m Carl,” he said, reaching out to shake each of their nipples.
“This is how I normally keep her,” Tom said, “She detracts from Stacey and Heather, don’t you think, and I don’t know what to actually do with her.”
“You mean you haven’t actually named her?” Carl asked.
“Who, her? She doesn’t have a name, I got her when she was a youngster and kept her swaddled up, all except for her Heather and her Stacey.”
Carl thought about it, and, the man did have a point. The woman in possession of the two fine specimens of breasthood did not seem to have much of a spirit to her, she was, from what he could tell, basically just a thing that carried around and supported her two massive life forms.
“Makes sense,” Carl muttered, nodding a bit to himself. He could see it now, or rather, he could see them. Heather and Stacey were right there, they were smiling at him. It was kind of like doing one of those 3-d Magic Eye puzzles where at first all you see is a forest of weird shapes, and then, after looking at it for awhile you start to see the definition, the important parts pop-out at you even though they were there all along.
He felt that way about Stacey and Heather now, he could see them, really see them. He couldn’t see anything from before any longer; the magic had turned on, all he could see now were the important parts; they had emerged from the forest and they were glorious.
“So earlier, when you said your wife liked
“Why Stacey of course, Heather doesn’t like the taste of tea, too bitter you see, she prefers sweet stuff.” Now Carl would have normally thought this crazy but he could see them, I mean he saw them, they were looking right at him, and nodding.
It was as though it all made perfect sense now. Something made him curious though, “So, what, you’re married to both of them?”
“Yes, of course,” Tom said, “they’re twins.”
“They’re very beautiful,” Carl said, “you’re a very lucky man.” He admired Tom’s wives for a few minutes, just soaking in their radiance and beauty.
“So when she,” he corrected himself, “they go to the kitchen, you take that off?” he indicated the hair truss.
“Oh yeah, its necessary, I think of it as a tool that serves them,” Tom finished blithely.
Carl nodded at that, “and,” Carl went on, “when they go to sleep?”
Tom jumped up and ran up the stairs quickly, coming back down a second later with a rubber hood. He slid it up and over the hair truss, making sure it was snug and tight as it came down on top of the woman’s head. After a few moments her head disappeared under the rubber and then vanished, lost in a formless void of rubber.
“Very aesthetically pleasing, I like how it really brings your wives out, emphasizes their curves.”
“Oh, I think Stacey and Heather want to show you something.”
“Oh?” Carl asked.
“Yes, its our private spot,” Tom places his arms in between the woman’s massive cleavage and, with a prodigious effort was able to part them a bit. He put his back into it and revealed a chasm that went deep until it touched a chest that was so pale it seemed as though light never hit it. Carl leaned forward and noticed that some of the white was actually dried semen.
“She looks very tight,” Carl said.
“Oh you betcha,” Tom said, straining to keep her love channel open. Her innercleavage was on display, her most secret portions. “The best part is that I have Tracey and Heather kiss while I make love to them.”
The dumb girl underneath the hood had long since stopped crying at the hurtful words, she had long since stopped thinking of herself as a person, as an individual, she could not remember her name, she could not remember anything about herself. Her thoughts, which before had been her own and had filled her imagination, had, over time become more functional, until now she existed very much like a machine, monitoring, breathing, listening, not acting so much as reacting, and very much in tune with her chest.
When she was young she had had no chest, and she had been herself, when she had started developing her owner had started her on training to cleanse her mind of thought and focus it on her chest growth, on her ‘development’ as he had called it. She couldn’t remember how many times, it was countless, that he would snap her away from whatever daydream she had been having and barked to her ‘Focus on your development’ by which he meant for her to rub her chest and focus her thoughts on growing her chest.
It had seemed silly to her until her chest had grown, and grown, and grown. It had worked, or so it seemed, or maybe it was the hormones he was giving her, or the diet, or the exercises, or maybe all of them, she didn’t know, she only knew that it was having an effect, a snowball effect, because, over time, they had grown faster, and faster, until, almost monthly it seemed, they were becoming much more than she could handle, until, after countless hours of her owner’s brainwashing sessions she realized that she herself had been poured into her breasts, that her identity had transferred into them, that half of her had been put into each and that each had grown again, so that neither half of her was alone and that, in fact, she had been diluted.
Then, slowly, over time, as her chest grew and she ‘developed’ she began to have thoughts of her own, only they weren’t her own, at least, they didn’t feel like it. She began to dream as though she were inside her breasts, as thought she were a part of them, instead of they a part of her. She started to feel smaller, to feel as though she were less, as they became more. Then one day she ceased to exist.
Oh she was still there all right, her body at least, but it wasn’t her anymore, she had been displaced. Where before there had been a very small part of her that retained an identity now it had been supplanted by the two of them, the twins: Heather, and Stacey.
Her owner was very happy when he talked to her during her hypnotherapy, talking to that infinitesimal part of her that remained, deep, buried down. He told her that a very small part of her would remain, at least for now, and that he wanted her to think of herself, of her thoughts, and to put them safely away, in her mind, in her brain, he said. “Think of your brain like a receptacle, and you and yourself and your thoughts are all safe there, its that last little bit of you that is left. Can you feel it? Can you think yourself there?”
And she had, it had been easy, her brain was the source of her, she still had thoughts, so it made sense that some part of her still existed, and if it had to exist somewhere, it had to exist there.
But then had come the next lessons, where she learned about expressing herself. At first she had been excited at the prospect of expressing herself, it was a totally foreign concept; she had always been his receptacle, her owner’s, where she listened to him, and took in what he gave her.
Now, he was telling her, she had an opportunity to express herself, to be expressed, out, through new exercises he was teaching her. And the exercises felt good.
It was an exercise, he was teaching her, which he said, combined with the new drugs he was giving her, would help her to express herself whenever she felt the need to have a thought. This was exciting, and pleasurable to her. She had many thoughts and she was having more now, she kept them in her brain but she so wanted to express them out loud.
“Today,” he had said, “we’re going to express. I want you to gather those thoughts of yours up and I want you to march them to the front of your brain, don’t think them, just gather them. And I want you to think of a long slide, a steep slide, and I want you to think of this slide leading down from your brain, and ending here,” and he touched her, ”at your nipple.”
He waited for her to focus, repeating his phrases, making sure she was deeply tranced, and then continuing, “are all of your thoughts gathered?” he asked. “Each and every one, all of the thoughts you’ve had?” She nodded.
“Good, now, just like we practiced, only, this time, you have thoughts there, can you feel them? They’re filling your breasts, they’ve gone down that long slide and filled those sacs and now they’re just waiting for you to express them, out, out of your body.”
She wanted to cry, it was horrible, she knew what was going to happen next, and she felt like she was dying. Her thoughts were going to leak out of her body, and she would be empty, alone, nothing…
“Good, good, very good!” he exclaimed, as the first drops of milk appeared. “Very, very good! VERY good, VERY VERY good! Very very good!” he said, watching her milk ducts open up and her lactation deepen.
“That’s my girl, get it all out, get all of those thoughts out…” he pet her as she massaged her nipples.
He finished relating this tale to Carl who, by this time, was ecstatic, realizing how awesome this old man was. “After all,” Tom finished by saying, petting Stacey as he said so, “every woman has the right to express herself.”
Carl nodded. Almost as if on cue the woman in Tom’s lap made a little lowing sound, almost too quiet to be heard but Tom must have known what it was from experience.
“If you’ll excuse me, that sound means that she has had a thought, she doesn’t have them that often nowadays, usually one every three or four days, but its been about a week now since her last one so if you’ll excuse me.” Carl made a small bow for his host.
“Tom led his wife off by a leather strap which attached to her hood, it was short and obviously he didn’t mind leading her around by it as though her head were a dumb weight. The two went to the corner of the room and Tom took a slight stick out from the small of his back, it was light-weight wood and slightish but nevertheless looked like a mean instrument of discipline.
The woman underneath the hood was having a thought, an original thought, one separate from her own robotic functions that her body performed almost by rote. It had taken several days to form, almost as though drip by drip in that large, cavernous room inside her head in which the sound of the drip echoed and was dwarfed by the sheer volume of empty space. It had been a large storage room once, this place of thoughts, but now it was in disuse, and only occasionally did a small trickle form.
Tap-tap-tap-tap, Tom commenced by rapping on the side of Stacey’s face, feeling the good sense of the flesh that rebounded as he prepared for his concert:
He moved his baton to the side, then waved it back again, smacking at an angle into Stacey’s massive bodice. Next he waved the baton around and then approached from the middle, lancing in and striking close to the cleavature between the two women. A split second after he smacked Heather on the left face.
This barrage of ministrations created a pitter patter across his wives’s surfaces intended to draw down what they were going to offer up to him, his tribute, the thing that had taken the caretaker of the tits almost a week to create, a single, solitary large drop of milky white liquid, distilled in the cavernous chamber of her mind, a single, lone thought, one of a kind, short, fully formed but incoherent due to its abrupt terminus.
The act of thought is one that requires concentration and focus, time and deliberation, and for the harborer of these tits she had none of these, this thought was being forced out before its time, just as it was born it was being delivered, severed from its neighbors her mind would be empty once again.
While he has no way of knowing it, as Tom sat down for his cup of morning coffee and added in the milky white cream that he enjoyed so much, over the course of the past few months his coffee has swirled with the combined interplay of “Oh my god, what has happened to me, where am I? Am I lost? These things are heavy, they drag me down. Who is this? No, I don’t want to go, no, noooooo!”
But as he finishes his drink he savors it, and then rinses his cup and replaces the cap on the lid of his brand, enjoying every bit of his Maxwell House coffee every time he has his wife’s mindcream to add. As the slogan says, it is indeed, good to the last drop.
--
Bunny had made it, finally, to the garage door, but for the past five minutes she had been struggling to turn the knob, her paws simply wouldn’t do it. Finally she, in a moment of spurious frustration took the keys out of her mouth and tried to put them into the lock with her tongue. After about half an hour of trying, nervous panic, and careful starts and stops she managed to, finally, get it in to the lock.
Just then she heard the sound of boots outside the door, and sensed that it was going to turn. She jumped off to the side, and crouched down, adopting a carefully rehearsed pose, one that she had gone over and over in her mind, and consulted from her memories. She got down on all fours and sniffed the ground, as though hunting for something, some small morsel of food.
The door opened and a man walked in, dressed in leathers and carrying a parcel.
“Tom,” he called, “Tom, package.”
Tom got up and strode over to his visitor. Carl remained behind with the wives, admiring their curvature and feeling their faces.
“Saw that your garage was open and thought maybe you had just gone inside. Here’s your package, just sign here, and have a good one.”
Tom signed for it and then tipped the man, watching him leave, watching him stride out and walk past the bicycles, each one locked, and then walk out the garage. He called after him.
“Could you shut that door for me? Yeah, just close it behind you, thanks.” He noticed that the keys to the house were in the door of the garage. He scratched his head, now that was odd, he thought he had… now hadn’t he come in through the front door? Well, he must just be forgetting things. Anyhow. He took the keys and locked the door.
Turning, he noticed that rabbit from earlier, the one the fellow had brought in. She was such an ugly creature, no chest to speak of… Still what was he thinking of, she wasn’t wife material anyway, she crawled on the floor, like an animal, like his dog did. If there’s one thing that he could never understand its men that mate with other species.
Now his wife, she was a prize, didn’t crawl on no ground, no sirree, and they came with their own built in carrier, kept them off the floor, thank you very much, but, to each his own.
He whistled and patted his thigh, motioning for the bunny to come to him. She was the stupidest creature though, no brain to speak of probably, not like his dumb mutt who at least was well-trained.
Well-trained, house-trained, house-trained! Here this rabbit was probably going to make a mess on his floor, if not already did! He reached down and grabbed it by its hair, pulling it back along the ground as he stormed back into the dining room.
Tricia’s hair hurt, it was being pulled, this man was cruel, she daren’t disobey him though, or struggle, because Bunny wouldn’t do that. She looked around, searching for some means of escape, but there was none, the garage door was locked now, she looked up, searching for the man’s keys, trying to see if they were on his belt.
They reached the dining room and she was tossed back down at her master’s side. He didn’t notice her, so absorbed in Tom’s wives as he was. Tricia was shocked, she could see how massive the woman’s breasts were, they were huge, they were enormous. She looked down at her own breasts, which were tiny in comparison, it was like she didn’t have any. She frowned, she did have some, and, now that she thought of it, they were larger than she remembered.
Still, in comparison her DD cups looked completely flat- chested , I mean it was like she had none at all. If her current chest was any indication of her master’s tastes, she could see what he saw in that woman over there. She was done being surprised though, nothing could top this. After seeing this woman with the breasts that came down to her knees, nothing could top it.
The dog came back into the room, wagging its tail and waddling over to sniff her again. She wanted to shoo it off but didn’t risk the attention.
“Hey, want to see a trick?” Tom asked?
“Boy would I!” Carl responded.
Tom clicked his fingers, the dog came over to his heels, trained to the sound, and the woman who carried his wives stood up, also trained to the sound. As she stood Stacey and Heather adjusted themselves, straightened out their dresses, stood up straight so that they now stood their full heights and their toes almost touched the floor.
Tricia was amazed, her mouth hung open, where before she had seen blimps she now saw hulking mountains. Where before she had been shocked she was now agog. The woman was a pair of tits. In fact, she seemed almost to be shorter than her tits, if such a thing were possible. They seemed to dwarf her, to push her into the background, which they did actually, since they stood out from her a good foot even as they hung down and bobbled against the carpet.
Stacey and Heather moved sensuously across the carpet, dancing on their feet, alight and alive as their carrier moved back a step and then raised her hands above her head.
“Watch this,” Tom said. Carl’s eyes were open wide. Tricia was ready to cringe. All eyes were on Stacey and Heather.
The woman did a jumping jack, rather, half a jumping jack, her feet never actually left the ground, in fact, just the act of standing had her back bend backwards and her legs bowed slightly. All she did was unbow a bit and then move her hands back down to her sides, move them up, bow a bit, and then repeat. The effect was that Heather and Stacey, once demure and coquettish, came alive!
The bounced, flounced, jumped, jerked, balked, leaped, stuttered, jounced, were yanked, clapped hands, pressed bodies, and kissed. Yes, the nipples leaned in and touched each other, it was the penultimate of the exercise and seemed to be the culmination of the display. After the kiss ended the carrier calmed and after a few tremulous shudders and grasping to the sides for balance on their parts, Stacey and Heather calmed, caught themselves, steadied, and came to a rest, hands seductively on hips, mouth parted, their skirts just slightly hirked so that just the cutest little part of their vagina showed, just the cameltoed lips jutted out.
Carl had a raging hard-on. The dog meanwhile, had followed the bouncing nipples and then barked at them, rubbing up to them and then attacking one. Tom shooed her away, frustrated that she still viewed them as an attacker or a potential threat (only if she were the jealous type) before inspecting the nipple for damage. After a moment he raised back up with what looked like a wad of really chewed gum.
Tricia remembered that gum, it had been in her mouth earlier, she had been chewing it, it must have fallen out sometime earlier, maybe landed on her shoe, gotten into the dogs mouth when it had, when it had chewed on her shoe! That gum, that’s the same gum, and, she remembered that she had always chewed it, always chewed it since, since coming to Cherish! That was the name of the town, the town that she would carpet bomb once she escaped.
Tom reached down and looked in disgust at the webby gum on his hand, it was covered in dog drool. He neared the stunned and agog Tricia, not seeming to notice that her face was showing intelligence and thought, he was much more interested in that open hole that she had. Her mouth, hanging open as she realized, failed to comprehend as Tom, wanting to get rid of something that his dog would scavenge again put into the nearest trash receptacle that he could find.
Tricia now found herself, as Tom wiped his hand off on the inside of her two, large buckteeth, the proud owner of the drug-saturated gum again. “Now swallow,” Tom said, glad to be rid of the waste but not wanting to deal with this dumb creature, who had probably given it to the dog earlier in a, he shuddered, kiss, any more than he had to.
In fact, and he thought this as he watched her, watched her in, what was almost trepidation and fright, as she swallowed. Ah well she’s probably just scared of a stranger, he thought. She moved the gum around in her mouth for a bit first, wanting to spit it out, staring back into Tom’s mean eyes, knowing fully well what he expected and trying a couple of practice swallowed first, to see if that would fool him.
He had seen this with his dog though, and he knew how to handle animals. He held her mouth closed and then clenched her nose, stroking the side of her neck until, finally, reluctantly, she swallowed, dooming herself to dumbness again.
She wanted to cry, but she knew that that would give her away. Still, she felt so used and broken, she couldn’t help it. She looked up through teary eyes, wanting to plead with her master. He didn’t notice her anyway, so engrossed was he with Tom’s wives that he had not noticed the drama that had just played out.
“You know what you ought to do,” Tom said, his mind working on how to make that Bunny less disgusting. “You ought to seal that bunny of yours up in some latex or some rubber, you know, something to cover its skin, like my dog. That keeps all the bad parts in and all the good parts out.” As he said this last he motioned with his hands in the shape of a soft w. Carl got the idea.
“Yeah you know, that’s not a bad idea. Seal up all the parts that aren’t really important.” He had been staring at Stacey and Heather for upwards of half an hour now as the two men just relaxed and chewed the fat; he only blinked a few times. Tricia, underneath, was slowly trying to wiggle away, knowing that if she didn’t get away soon she never would. The problem was that that damned dog kept coming up and sniffing under her skirt, and worse, that a small part of her liked it.
In fact, as the drug began to take effect again she had started humping back against the dog’s snout. The men had been talking, Carl asking more and more questions about how such an effect could be achieved as had been produced with Tom’s wives on other women. “You mean how can you raise wives as plump and voluptuous as these two?” Tom had asked.
“Yeah,” Carl had responded, glancing down now at Bunny’s own insignificant holdings. Carl noticed his bunny humping the dog. He made a face, that was disgusting! “Shoo, shoo,” he said, motioning the dog away. He looked at his Bunny, appalled at her behavior and suddenly she was soiled in his mind. He had seen her in a most disgusting act and had lost all of her value.
No, not all of her value, he corrected himself. H took his fingers and made a little box with them, the way photographers and artists do. He spread his hands to obscure the sides and blotted out the excess, the unnecessary. He peered between his hands and listened to what Tom was telling him, about training, and exercises, and diet…
He listened and nodded, imagining, in his mind, a most splendid transformation, one of a simple, useless object, into the two most splendid maids any man could ever dream of.
Bunny understood what he was thinking, and was horrified, but another part of her said not to worry, a part that was slowly numbing her, was giggling and telling her that it didn’t matter anyway since thoughts were stupid, and that, teehee, there was some pie around here somewhere wasn’t there?
There was! She thought, and she stood up, seeing it on the table. She remembered vaguely how useless her hands were and so didn’t even bother, as Carl reached up to stop her she shoved her face headplanted in to the pie, slurping it up while the men shouted at her.
They pulled her off of the pie, her face covered in greedy gulpings of the gloup and raining mess and strands of syrupy blueberry while Tom remonstrated her and Carl admonished her. “Its okay Tom, I’m sorry, its my fault…” he patted Bunny’s head, calming her. He looked inside her mouth, holding it open so that her buckteeth got in his hand’s way and he groped around its backside, not finding what he was looking for.
“She just needs another piece of gum,” Carl grimaced as he said it, knowing that he had gotten carried away. She must have swallowed it, the dumb bunny, but he had a fresh piece. He took it out of it pack in his pocket and stuck it whole into her mouth. He watched as her dumb bunny tooth came down and chewed it, he watched as her face became blank, and numb, and she got back down onto all fours. He pet her head and then pushed her onto her back and began petting her tits, imagining budding women there.
“I can see them Tom,” he said, in a slow realization. Tom nodded. After a few moments the men shared a deep and mystical bond as they contemplated the nature of woman. Carl saw them, young and undernourished, waiting for the right tender to come along and grow them.
“Its beautiful Tom,” Carl said, “it the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” After a moment he felt like crying it was causing him so much joy. “I don’t know why I never saw it before, its right in front of me.”
“They’re right in front of you,” Tom corrected.
“What will I name them?” Carl asked aloud.
“Don’t’ worry,” Tom said, turning to his Stacey, “ they name themselves.”
--
Eight months later, after a rigorous phase of accelerated development, Carl is now the proud owner of twins, Tracey, 72 inches in height, and Tricia, 69 inches in height. Tom was there for the wedding:
“Do you, Carl Ashby take Tracey to be your lawfully wedded wife, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.”
“And do you, Carl Ashby, take Tricia to be your lawfully wedded wife, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.”
“And do you,” the man began, but then stopped to consult the legal document Carl gave him, which listed each of his new wives as an individual legal entity each with her own birthday, height, weight, hair color, eye color, and name, “Tracey Teat take Mr. Ashby to be your lawfully wedded husband, to serve and obey, to docilely wait upon, produce and grow for, and belong to for as long as you shall not sag?”
A string attached around Bunny’s left tit caused it to bounce up and down, producing a nod.
“And do you, Tricia Teat, take Mr. Ashby to be your lawfully wedded husband, to serve and obey, to docilely wait upon, produce and grow for, and belong to for as long as you shall not sag?”
Then Tricia Teat nodded, and continued to nod dumbly until it stopped bouncing.
“Then by the power vested in me, by the Mayor of Cherish Valley, I now pronounce you two legally bound and obligated young teats under the auspices of your generous and Cherishing husband. You may now kiss the brides.”
And Carl was the happiest man alive, hugging and kissing his two beautiful dumb bride sacks while the carrier underneath, the real Tricia, suffered under the skullcrushing rubber hood that obliterated her identity as surely as those eight months of ‘development’ had cleansed her mind.
She now thinks only through her two charges, each one developing its own personality, each one more important and prominent than her, who is already disappearing within her own mind. As each day goes by her thoughts become more about the status and well-being of Mrs. and Mrs. Asbhy.
Her focus has become one of exercise and focus, trying to encourage the two blushing brides to kiss. When she finally managed it for the first time she felt so good, like she had learned a trick, and Carl congratulated them on it, saying “Aww, ain’t that so cute, just a couple of dumb dykes in love. Now come here and kiss my cock you two, and don’t be shy about sharing it now, there’s plenty of me to go between you.”
And they lived happily ever after, well, Carl and Tracey anyway, Tricia can’t stand that Carl loves Tracey more because she’s taller; pretty soon Tricia will be able to tell Carl how she feels, once he finishes teaching her how to express herself.
He plans on putting what she gives him in the toilet, since he feels that it makes the nicest sound flushing a young woman’s thoughts down the drain.
---
by
Alex Streuth
Literary notes: Some parts dumb bimbo (a bumbo)
story, some parts a bunnygirl, doggygirl
story, some parts a dehumanization story, massive tits fetish, breast
enlargement, mental anguish and a chase make this all a nice walk through
Cherish.
Follow Carl Ashby as he chases
after Bunny, who has gone on a little bunny hop down the road and into the
abode of a man who’s very adamant about his breasts and their growth, who, in
fact, is married to it, them, both.
--
Keywords: Objectification degradation extreme
modifications unwilling forced modified enhanced collagen silicone silicon
swallowed surgery choked gagged modified injected amputated helpless “down into
her” “down her” mouth throat slave toy bimbo doll girl tits
--
Lastly, the author disclaims
that outside of the realm of fantasy none of these types of
behaviors and/or ideas are healthy much less conscionable. It is my intention to provide a well-written
adult story that allows the reader to indulge in their darker appetites. Feedback is welcomed, and you may write me at
Streuthanasia@gmail.com
--
Reader suggestions are always
welcomed and I am sure if you have a specific situation, person, item of
clothing, object, body part or interaction etc. that you wish inserted into the
busy schedules of the exacting Dr. Spencer and Mr. Streuth
please do not hesitate to contact me regarding it. I will see it I can fit your order into their
schedule, or bring it up at the next Cherish Board meeting. –AS
Please check out Alex Streuth's Stories
(www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Alex_Streuth/www/)
for the rest of my hosted collection.
I am indebted to The Mayor of Cherish www.bimbofiction.com for the use of his setting.