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, is purely coincidental.
This story is
copyrighted (June 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
You may find the graphic novel
“Stepford Bound” (by Benson) useful for
further reference.) Other influences
come from My Gag Order, Thndrshark, and Gord (also see GordBooks.)
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.
Games Girls
Play
Introduction
Candy got out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Her taut chest jiggled as she began drying off. She was thirty-six inches across and vivacious; as full of life as she was full-chested.
She bent over, running the cloth along her soft legs. Her skin was tan and supple, her face pert and youthful. She wasn’t young but she looked it. Plastic surgery and botox had her looking eighteen when she was almost twice that age. She looked in the mirror and smiled, glad that her next task was almost done for her:
Her husband had given her permanent make-up around her eyes and on her cheeks and lips, giving her round-the-clock indigo eye shadow, rouge and bright cherry lipstick. All she had to do was powder a bit, moisturize and put some lip gloss on.
Next she did her hair. She ran a hand along her bald pate and looked along the wall, trying to decide which wig to wear. She considered the Pageboy, modeling it for a bit, and then exchanged it for the Bob. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, making a moue with her mouth and vamping.
She smiled and took the Bob off and tried the Curls on next, twirling a finger in the blond coif. She hung the Curls up on its peg and tried the Pixie cut on, sitting the purple hair on her bald head and adjusting the cup until it fit snugly.
She opened a package of fake eyelashes and carefully attached them to her eyelids, blinking rapidly and putting her hands to her cheeks, blowing kisses at her reflection.
She pulled the drawer out under the sink and considered earrings:
“Should I wear dangly or muted ones today?” She mused. She knew her husband appreciated flair but she preferred the more tasteful ones. She held a pair of pink dangly ones up, held them next to her ear, curled up her nose, and put them back down. She took out smaller ones, muted balls, and set them in.
Next she reached into her nostrils and rotated the jewelry in her septum until the barbell came into view... Her husband required that she wear a heavy gauge piercing with a large, fat ring through her nose, but right now she had a smaller barbell in. She only put the large one in when he visited.
She twisted her head a bit so that she could admire her appearance. She lifted her ear lobes up again and fondled the earrings, screwing her mouth up in a frown and practicing her pout.
She walked into the next room and considered clothing. She stepped into a pair of tight red panties, running them up her thighs to rest snugly.
She put on a tight black miniskirt, tying it around her waist and letting it fall devilishly against her thigh. She sat down on the bed and rolled fishnets up her legs.
She stepped into a pair of black patent pumps, eschewing the 5” pair her husband had bought for her for the 2” ones instead. She didn’t like wearing the taller heels; they made her take short, mincing steps.
--
Candice had been living in Cherish for a few months now, enjoying a pampered and lavish lifestyle. She knew the town was weird, but she thought it was great. She had a maid to cook and clean the house which left her plenty of time to shop, look good, and hang out with her friends. The other men left her alone because she belonged to her husband.
It bothered her—being her husband’s legal property—but Chet spent most of his time out of town on business. She only needed to ‘play the part’ when he visited: She would wear the dangly earrings and the high heels, put the large ring in her nose and greet him at the door on her knees… It was a small price to pay for so much luxury and freedom the rest of the time.
1, First Impressions
Brad pulled into the driveway and got out, excited. This was his first time back in Cherish since he had left for college; he had just graduated.
“Dad, Dad I’m home!” he yelled, rushing up the steps to the second floor landing and bursting into the bedroom. Candy jumped in fright, giving Brad an eyeful of her naked bouncing breasts as she leapt up. She still hadn’t put a top on.
Brad was speechless, his jaw hung out. “Woah,” he said. He had never met Candy before but she was hot! He knew his Dad liked them young but she looked like she was his age!
“Nice tits!” he said, pointing. He was getting an eyeful.
Candy blushed and quickly crossed her arms, covering her bosom. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” She grew indignant.
“Oh, allow me to introduce myself, I’m Brad.” He sauntered over towards her.
“Don’t come any closer or I’ll scream,” she warned.
Brad scratched his head. “Um, I live here?”
Candy cowered as he drew closer and then screamed as he reached out and gingerly touched her skin. “Shhhh,” Brad said, “its okay.” He reached up and stroked her hair, running his hand down her head to her neck.
Candy stared at him in fright as he put his hand around the back of her neck and rested it, stroking gently along the sides of her neck with his thumb and forefinger. She quietly hushed as he said “Shhhh, its okay girl, its okay,” and rubbed her neck. Eventually she just stood there, cringing, and stared at him.
“Just relax, it will be okay, just relax.” She shuffled nervously but responded to the pressure on her neck and lowered herself onto the bed, lying on her side as Brad slid on top of her and pressed into her.
He kept her pinned beneath him, lying sideways across her, and casually inspected her. He ran his hand over her ears and face, caressing, exploring. “Shhhh,” he said, calming her. “Just relax, everything is alright.”
He let his fingers dance playfully across her nose ring and then her lips. He gently tried pushing a finger into her mouth and was rewarded when she parted her lips a bit for him.
“Good girl!” He enthused, pushing his forefinger into her mouth. She let him reach in softly and explore the insides of her lips and cheeks. “Very good girl,” he said, coddling her.
He let his other arm wrap around the back of her neck and stroke, continuing to express his dominance over her. He let her calm down and then spoke evenly to her. “What is your name?”
Candice blinked, “C-Candice.” She said. She was overwhelmed. She had never met a man so obviously in control as this. He was young, strong, and confident. He exuded an aura of mastery, she was confused, excited, and scared all at the same time.
“Candice what are you doing here, in this house?”
“I, I’m the wife of Mis, Mister Willows.” Brad did a double take, his Dad’s new wife? He hadn’t mentioned marrying again… Still, he knew how to pick ‘em.
“Candice, here in Cherish wives are property. I want you to say ‘I’m the property of Mr. Willows.”
“I,” she swallowed, having a hard time saying it, “I’m the, the prop… property,” she lowered her eyes in shame, “of Mr. Willows.” Real tears started to form in her eyes.
“Good…” Brad continued to stroke the back of her neck and now with the hand he was using to explore her face he rubbed the slight tears from her cheeks. “I’m Chet’s son Brad, and I’m also a Mr. Willows. Since you are Willows’s property you also belong to me.”
Candy cried some more, not liking what she was hearing. She also found it deeply humiliating to think of herself as property. She had gotten so used to the freedom of her life that she was able to block out the short visits her husband paid her. The opulence and luxury of her everyday life compensated for the thoughts in the back of her mind that she was really a prisoner… Here, now, those thoughts were being brought to the forefront.
“Noooo,” she wailed.
Brad stroked her brow, “I’m afraid its true little one,” he soothed. “The sooner you get used to the idea the sooner you’ll be happier.” Candice looked at Brad and scowled at him. Brad smiled ruefully and then hopped up off the bed. Candy watched him head off out of the room. He looked back at her as he left, “Don’t go anywhere,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”
She could hear him tromping off through the house. She shivered and got up. She had to get out, but he had said to wait. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but her friends were waiting for her… She frowned, trying to decide. “This guy’s nearly half my age,” she thought, “there’s no way I have to listen to him. I married Chet… not his son…” She stood up on her heels and turned to the dresser, quickly searching for a top.
2, Babe in Toyland
Brad entered his room and strode up to his toy box. He had had the box since he was a child, but its contents had ‘evolved’ over the years. Reaching in, he withdrew tack and a harness as well as several simple leather restraints and some hand mittens. Each piece was well-crafted of black leather with bits of polished steel in the right spots. Cradling his toys Brad smiled and stood, rushing off back to the doll room.
“Candy? I brought some toys for us to play with.” Brad looked around. He set the things down on the bed and then poked his head into the bathroom. She wasn’t there… He looked in the walk-in closet… She wasn’t, wait… There in the corner… She was hiding!
“Aha,” he said, striding into the closet and grabbing a stockinged leg. He pulled the now mewling Candy out from her hiding spot where she cowered and hefted her up into his arms. He held her with one arm wrapped around a thigh and one arm wrapped around a shoulder, sideways. She reached out and clawed at the doorframe as he dragged her into the room.
“Now behave!” He shouted, tossing her onto the bed next to the toys. Candy bounced and then scampered off of the bed the back way, getting down onto the floor and crawling as quickly as she could. Brad easily intercepted her and stood imperiously before her. She craned her neck up at him and smiled weakly. “Be a good girl,” he boomed, slightly annoyed. Candy cringed as he reached down and picked her up. She felt so easily controlled by his strong arms.
She was used to her husband, who was older and while not out-of-shape certainly not the fit young athlete his son was. She was simply overpowered by Brad. Usually she could squirm and throw a bit of a fit and Chet would let her alone, at least for a bit, but Brad seemed to take her resistance as a personal challenge.
“Get up on the bed,” he said, lifting her 120lbs. and tossing her back onto the covers. This time she landed on some of the harness and rolled away from it. She looked at the toys curiously, noticing them for the first time.
Brad reached around behind him and grabbed a crop from the back of his belt. He hadn’t wanted to use it but if she got off the bed again he wasn’t making any progress with her. “Stay,” he said, waving the crop menacingly.
Candy looked at the bit and tackle, then at Brad, and screamed. Brad walked over to her carefully, not wanting to give her an easy escape route. He picked the bit up off the bed and circled around behind her. She scrambled forward but he grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back.
She stopped screaming for a second to say “Ow” and then stare up at him.
“Be a good girl,” Brad said, “and open up for Daddy.”
“You are not my…” Candy managed, and then her eyes went wide as the bit was forcibly placed in her mouth. The bar ran across her tongue, holding it. She half-choked as it was tied around the back of her head and then got the hang of it and was able to breathe.
“Ut uf ung uf eee,” she said.
“Quiet,” Brad said, pulling back on the bit. Candy felt the pressure in her mouth build and winced. She felt so stupid. Here she was being treated like an animal by her husband’s son!
“Er nrrr nrr errr!” She fumed, thrashing about with her arms. Brad let her rage, keeping one hand on her bridle and the other on her shoulder. When she calmed down he began attaching the harness.
He eased Candy up onto her knees and ran the strap around her belly, then pushed her down onto her stomach and secured the saddle. He connected the tack, making it easy to tug on her bit from the seat. Candy was still struggling but mostly because she didn’t want to stay still. She wasn’t actually delaying the attachment of the outfit.
“I think you need to learn some manners,” Brad said. Candy managed to swing an arm around and Brad gripped it, holding it and wrapping the mitten around her hand. He bound it tightly to her wrist, carefully securing it. “There, declawed,” he said, chuckling. Candy fumed as he grabbed her other hand and did the same, covering her carefully lacquered nails in the enveloping rubber/leather of the mittens. Her fingers disappeared inside the spongy ovoid containers.
“Up,” Brad said, and tugged up on the bridle. Candy felt the pressure on her mouth grow and lifted her head a bit and her body followed, brining her up until the pressure evened out again. Brad smiled and stroked her head. “Now the feet,” he said, and grabbed her ankles and brought them back up until they touched her bottom. She strained against him but he held her ankles tightly in one hand while he lassoed her with his other.
He carefully wound a leather strap around her thighs, taking his time, knowing that it was a difficult process: He didn’t want to leave too much slack and also didn’t want to cut off her circulation or cause cramps. As he tightened it he watched to see how much give was left. As he finished securing it and padlocked the mess he lightly patted her bottom, reassuring her. Candy wriggled nervously. “There there girl, its alright, everything will be okay.”
He backed off for a moment, watching as she pushed against the restraint. He needed another one higher up, he knew, but he wanted to see how well it was tied. He wound another restraint around her ankles, binding them to each other and then attaching the slack to the saddle, effectively binding her ankles to her bottom.
Now her feet were totally bound and she was incapable of stretching them more than a little bit, they were kept taut but not uncomfortable; she could relax her legs without putting any additional pressure on the bridle. Brad could administer all the pressure her needed manually.
He inspected her bonds again, rechecking the harness and her bit, then running his hands over her fishnetted flank and patting her ass. “I really like that mini on you,” he said, complimenting her on the miniskirt she was still wearing. She had managed to put on a pink pleather vest over her tits but had not managed a shirt or other top in her rush. Now, on all fours, her breasts spilled out from between the shiny bright pink vest, framed adorably by it.
Brad helped her off the bed and onto the ground. He adjusted the saddle so that it sat centered perfectly on her back. “Stay,” he said. Candy stared up at him and did not move. Her perfectly made up face looked up at him, her eyeballs placid. She had apparently accepted her fate for now. Drool gathered and then gradually dripped from her bridled mouth. She watched as Brad headed out of the room again.
As soon as he was gone she struggled at her bonds, pushing and straining with her legs and trying to push at the bit in her mouth with her tongue. She found that her legs were in fact bound together, making it impossible for her to move her knees independently. It was like she had one large stump touching the ground. She then raised her mittened hands to her mouth and tried grabbing the bit. She felt along the sides of her head, searching for the fastenings…
“I just want to be out of this horrible contraption,” she thought. “I want to go back to normal, fuck this Brad… I have friends waiting for me…”
She tried crawling forward but it was not easy. The mittens slipped… Still, she was desperate. She scampered forward, dragging her legs along as a sort of dead weight. She crawled forward, moving towards the door, and could hear Brad up ahead.
She could hear a slight squeaking sound. She reached the door and, in a panic, fell down the step to the landing. Brad stood over her. He watched as she turned to the house’s main flight of steps and paused. She hesitated, her bum sticking up pertly in the air, her full womanly body poised to crawl again…
Brad put his foot on her bottom and pushed, gently, threatening to send her face first over the lip of the stairs. Candy was in a very perilous situation and knew it. She mewled and Brad eased up with his foot. “Are you going to be a good girl?” He asked. Candy nodded her head, almost on the verge of tears. She felt so humiliated. Here she was, a grown woman, bound and at the mercy of a boy half her age.
“I thought I could trust you but obviously you aren’t trained yet, I’m going to have to punish you.” Brad reached down and fiddled with some small strips of leather. Candy sucked in air as he pinched her nipples, flinching. He tied the strips around her nips and then wound them back around a tensioning point and then to her mittened hands. “If you try to run off again you’ll punish your tits, do you understand?” Candy nodded. “Say, I’ll punish my tits,” Brad commanded.
Candy blushed and then closed her eyes. She felt Brad pushing on her bottom again with his foot, she quickly said “Iwul uhhsh uh uhhts.”
“Again,” Brad commanded.
“Uwhl uhnsh uh uhhts.”
“Good girl,” he said, easing up on her bum.
Brad reached down and gripped Candice firmly, hefting up, cradling her in his knee as he lifted her to his hip and then walked her down the stairs to the first floor. As he walked Candy bounced, tugging on her nipples and causing her to cry out in pain.
“That’s what you deserve,” Brad said. “You’ve been a bad girl and bad girls get punished.” He set her down and then reached into his pocket. He squatted down in front of her and busied himself with her face.
Brad fumbled with the jewelry in her nose, taking the small barbell out and replacing it with a large, heavy one. The weight on her nose increased and the fat ring fell out of her nose and patted her top lip. Brad stuck his fingers into her mouth and Candy grimaced, but endured it as he fiddled around. He appeared to be attaching something. Brad ran some waxed dental floss around the bit and then up and through fine holes in the nose ring. Now when her bit was pulled on it would tug at her nose as well. He tested it, and saw it tug down on her septum. Candy winced.
Brad took her muted earrings out and replaced them with long dangly ones. He then attached a small cow bell to each earring, so that they clanged when she walked.
Brad ran back upstairs.
Candy reached up, wanting to explore her nose and ears to see what he had done. As she reached she felt a sharp tug on her nipple. She cringed and put her hand back down. The strips he had attached to her hands would keep them down where they belonged; if her hands wandered her nipples suffered.
3, Little Red Wagon
Brad brought something large and bulky down the stairs which squeaked. “Be a good girl and crawl forward a few steps,” Brad commanded. Candy meekly blanched and obeyed, moving forward on her hands and legstump. As she walked her cowbells clanged, humiliating her further. She blushed in embarrassment.
Brad bent down in front of her again, studying her face. He reached into her mouth and attached a leash to her bit, saying, “Good, now we’re almost ready to go outside.” Candy’s eyes widened at the thought. She couldn’t go outside like this!
“Murrr, grrblacka puhhh, murrrr,” she mewled. Brad ignored her. He went behind her and wheeled the squeaky thing forward into her realm of vision. It was a child’s red wagon.
“I’m going to make it easier for you to get around,” Brad said. Candy’s eyes widened further.
Carefully he lifted her legs and positioned the wagon under her kneestump. Candy tried bucking her legs, this was so humiliating, to be made a part of a child’s toy! She closed her eyes in shame.
Due to the height of the wagon Candy’s crushed thighs and knees now pressed into her lower back, and her upper body now leaned forward somewhat, ruining her posture. Any weight put into the saddle on her back would compound the problem, putting unwanted pressure against an already tormented part of her spine.
The empty saddle sat ominously against her back
Brad attached the wagon’s handle to a strip of leather and then attached that lengthwise to each of her mittened hands. She could now only move each arm about a foot and a half from the other as she ‘walked’ and her hand movements would guide the wagon by pulling the handle to rotate the wagon’s front wheels.
“Come,“ Brad said, tugging on the leash and opening the front door. Candy could see out onto the lawn and sidewalk. She could feel the breeze and the birds chirping, and knew that it was a Cherish ritual for men to take their women for walks, but she had never done so like this before!
She felt pressure on her bit and then on her septum. She balked for a moment and felt the pressure increase. The discomfort in her mouth grew, pushing at her tongue and gums. The tug on her septum gave way to pain and she crawled forward, slowly. It was not easy to move, the mittens took away a lot of friction and she slipped as she crawled. She tried to carefully lift up then put her ‘foot’ down but she had to pull with it to move forward.
Desperate at the increasing pressure and pain in her nose and mouth she crawled frantically forward, mimicking a cartoon character’s furious tread milling. The tension on her body was transmitted weakly back into the wagon and her back-half followed along dumbly behind.
She was led out into the daylight by a relaxed and luxuriating Brad.
She was quite a sight, a securely bound grown woman crawling ineffectually behind a man half her age. Her bountiful breasts hung down to provide an amusing, bouncing sight as they walked. Her cowbells clanged as they traveled.
“Hey Brad, long time no see.”
Brad waved to the man greeting him. Candy’s pert derriere stuck up almost angrily in the air, the fishnets ending at the top of her thighs and the miniskirt falling up her back each time they hit a bump.
Now, as they turned the corner the wheel of the wagon hit a pebble and the miniskirt fell the rest of the way up her back, revealing her panties to the public. She could feel air around her pubis and felt like everyone was looking at her. She continued to crawl, burning with humiliation, her large breasts bouncing, her body harnessed, drool dripping from her mouth as they went for their afternoon stroll.
--
“Candy, oh Candy!” Candy jumped in fright, it was Blanche, one of her tea friends. They were supposed to meet today for the tea party!
“Candy oh there you are! Candy you’re late…”
Brad smiled and puffed up his chest as this new woman approached. He gave her a smile and tipped his hat, “Ma’am,” he said.
“Oh hello,” Blanche said in an alluring tone. “Why, why you must be Brad, Chet’s son, oh yes I do see the resemblance, mmmmmm.” She seemed pleased by his appearance.
Brad smiled, almost blushing, and nodded.
“Why silly me, I’m Blanche, why, I do say this is Candy.”
Candy felt their gazes turn to her and wallowed with shame. It was too much to think of Blanche seeing her like this, she wanted to cry. She had always met Blanch on the most civil of terms, having tea and book club meetings together. They talked and shopped.
“Why Brad if its not too much trouble me and the girls have been waiting on Candy for tea…”
Brad beamed, “Why Ms. Blanche I would be delighted to bring Candy.” Blanche smiled her perfect Southern Belle smile and hurried off, her heels and yellow taffeta sun dress glinting in the sun.
“Come on then,” Brad said, tugging on Candy’s leash. “Let’s go to the party.”
Candy cringed but obeyed, unable to resist the tug. She lumbered slowly forward in the hot sun. They waited and then crossed the street, a young man leading his wagon. They drew a few glances but no one seemed to think it unusual for Candy to be led bound and humiliated through the town square. A few men stopped and chatted with Brad as they continued. One of them bent down and patted her ass casually, and another pushed her panties to the side to reveal her bare pussy.
“Helps them get a full tan,” the man explained, and Brad nodded and continued on, a young man taking his woman for a walk. Candy’s pouting pussylips were revealed for all passersby to see and she held her breathe, hoping they wouldn’t pass many more people before they reached the tea party, she was almost desperate with longing to reach their destination, loathe as she was to be there mere moments before.
They passed by the school and Brad waited with her at the crosswalk as a group of boys were led across the street. Candy groaned as a few of the boys stopped and pointed at her strange form. They whispered to each other and laughed, still pointing. Candy blushed and was relieved when Brad led her across the street.
They passed down a few more streets, Candy’s cowbells clanging, her mouth drooling, her tits swaying, and her pussy pouting, until they arrived at Blanche’s house. Brad rang the doorbell.
Candy took the opportunity to relax her jaw, the pressure from the leash momentarily gone. The door opened, Candy could see Blanche’s heels, and then she was led, bumpingly, up the front step and into the house.
4, Candy’s Teaparty
“I’ll just bring her right on in here where we’re having tea,” Blanche said. Brad nodded and hung up his coat, handing the leash to the hostess. Candy felt even more humiliated to follow along behind Blanche’s swishing ass. She could see the woman’s legs and the sashay of her strut; it felt so wrong to be crawling along behind her.
Blanche led Candy into a room and Candy was surprised to see a children’s table with stuffed animals and toys. The tea set was plastic and the tea imaginary. “I’ll just set her up with the others,” Blanche said, wheeling Candy over to the table despite her growing anxiety. Blanche carefully stepped around the small tea table and tugged, drawing Candy’s head and shoulders under it.
Candy was forced to crawl under the small child’s tea table, until only the saddle and her rear end and wagon remained visible Blanche stepped over to the side and grabbed a pink teddy bear, setting it in Candy’s saddle.
Blanche cleared her throat and announced, “Tea time girls.” Her
The two girls, whom Candy had met before, were Sally and Rachel. “Candy Bear would you like tea?” Sally asked the stuffed animal, ignoring the grown woman beneath the table. Then, as though Candy had replied she picked up the teapot and pretended to pour some into the cup in front of the bear. “One lump or two,” she asked?
“Mmmm, ugh cuk muh guuu,” Candy mewled. Rachel peeked under the table, staring at the strange sight. Sally grabbed her sister and pulled her back up.
“Mom said not to look under there,” she whispered. Rachel walked around behind Candy and looked at the wagon. She looked curiously at the grown woman’s bottom and no-no spot.
Candy was struggling to free herself from the table but the leash had been carefully tied around one of the legs out of her reach. She wriggled her feet, trying to get out of the wagon, and her pussy danced in accompaniment. Rachel stared at the sight.
Sally continued to serve the stuffed animals around the table tea, curtsying to Mrs. Mouse and carrying on an imaginary conversation.
Candy pushed back against the leash, wriggling her legs, trying to get enough slack to tumble out of the wagon, but it was impossible. All she succeeded in doing was giving Rachel more of a show. Rachel was lifting her dress up and putting her fingers in her own no-no hole. Sally saw what her sister was doing and jumped up.
“No diddling,” she said. “You know what momma says, little girls shouldn’t touch there.” Rachel took her fingers out of her panties, blushing, and pointed at Candy’s no-no spot in defense, turning her head aside and closing her eyes. She stood with her finger pointed accusingly as Sally walked around the table to see what was going on.
Sally frowned at Candy’s wriggling lewdness. She reached forward, closing her eyes, trying to grab the panties and put them back into place. She fumbled in the area until she had it and then pulled it back over the Candy’s no-no spot. She shivered afterwards, running out of the room to wash her hand, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
Rachel opened her eyes and stared at the sight a bit longer, and then ran out of the room after her sister.
Candy took a deep breath, and squirmed. She wriggled her hands, grunting, and managed to shift the weight in her legs enough to turn onto her side. It wasn’t easy, but if she kept at it she might be able to get her legstump out of the wagon. She relaxed, breathing, for a moment.
“…and see how my girls are doing,” Blanche finished, turning from Brad and poking her head into the room. She frowned and pushed the door open.
Brad followed along a few moments later, tugging his pants up. Blanche’s lipstick was noticeably messy. “When does, your husband get home?” Brad asked, a little out of breath.
“Oh him, he’s out of town right now…” Brad smiled, pleased at the news.
“Yeah my dad’s out of town too right now,” he said, sliding up to Mrs. Blanche and rubbing against her bubble-butt as she bent over to inspect Candy. Blanche froze and then stood up. She turned to face Brad.
“Not now,” she said, slapping his hand away. She bent back over again and inspected Candy’s struggling form. Brad smiled and slapped her ass, running his hand over its generous portions. He loved the hourglass figure she had, her large bubble-butt accentuated by her narrow waist. He ran his hands up to feel her waist.
“Do you wear a corset?” He asked. Mrs. Blanche stopped her ministrations of Candy and stood up again, again she was bent at the waist.
5, What’s that Ratchet?
“No,” she said, turning to Brad. “But I do have something else.” She put her hands to her chest, running her fingers between her cleavages to unbutton her dress. Brad watched as her bountiful bosom came into view, her guessed it to be a good D or DD. He licked his lips as the nipples came into view—no bra, he though.
Her breasts were so firm and high-up as well, almost unnatural looking. “Are those real?” He asked.
“As real as need be,” she smiled, sultrily. “You were asking about my corset…” She slipped out of her dress, sliding it off of her shoulders. It cascaded down, revealing her stomach and then her panties. Brad’s eyes boggled.
She was indeed not wearing a corset but from what he could see her waist was impossibly small. He could see her bare skin clearly though, there was no external device holding it together. “What…” he breathed.
“Its hard to see,” she responded. The two ignored Candy’s continued attempts at freedom. “Its at the small of my back… here…” She turned and ran a finger down her spine. Brad stared.
There was something, some thing metallic down there. He squatted. Sure enough, right in the small of her back there was a sort of recessed knob. He squinted and read the number, 18 inches it said.
“Go ahead,” she said, “turn it, slowly though please.”
Brad was transfixed. He grasped the knob and turned it, slowly, to the right. There was a seizing of her skin and the whole of her lower torso tightened. As he turned he could see pressure exerted internally to grip and pull her figure in. The knob read 17 ¾ inches. “More,” she said.
Brad was breathing slowly, but he did it, turning it again, until it rested at 17 ½. Her breathing was a little shallower. He motioned for her to turn around, studying her pelvis as she did so. Her hips remained impossibly large in comparison to her cinched waist, jutting out largely at 38”, he had thought it the dress, but it was her natural bone structure that made it so wide.
“How...?” He asked.
“Surgically, implanted, steel rods, system,” she breathed, “when, you turn, the, knob, it tightens…”
“How far?” Brad asked, his mind racing.
“My husband, only, to, 16 inches,” she said, still panting, “more, is, unsafe…”
Brad reached behind her and turned the knob again, slowly, watching her body constrict in all the right places. She nearly swooned. He put his other arm behind her back.
“Take your panties off,” he said, and she reached down and complied. Brad pushed his crotch against her naked pelvis. He turned the knob again, to 17 inches now.
“That’s awesome,” he said, watching as her body adjusted to the new waist. He grinned and turned it again, to 16 ¾.
“Mmmm, that’s great honey, now fuck me, mmm, I want it so bad.” Blanche was having a hard time keeping her body steady with the thinner and thinner waist, but she could feel the heat in her pussy, and she needed Brad bad.
“Just a second, let’s get you down some more,” Brad said, turning the knob again, to 16 ½”.
“Oh, okay honey, that’s quite enough, got to leave me some breathing room…”
“So, like, how far down did you say your husband’s taken you?”
“Well the doctor, mmm, said, not to go, past 16” in the, first few months... Bob’s been, away on business, so I guess we could, try it to maybe, 15 ¾ but, please, no more than that.”
“Mmmm yeah,” Brad said, “I want to bust your waist’s virginity, take you past 16…” He turned it again, ratcheting it down to 16 ¼”. Blanche convulsed, her body having a hard time with the new stress on it. She was breathing very, very shallowly.
“Take it, easy baby, you need, to wait…”
Brad turned it again, bring her waist to the hallowed 16” mark. His eyes were fueled with an intense passion. He was gobbling up her new measurements… “Oh god you look so great, we need to take you down further…”
“No, no more, wait, wait…”
Brad turned it again, this time it took more force to turn the knob, as though it was grinding against something. Blanche’s face scrunched up in pain, it felt as though her insides were on fire. The passion in her loins was fast becoming outpaced by the burning in her lungs.
“No more, that’s enough, please, that’s too much…”
“Oh no baby, we’re just getting started…” Brad turned the knob again, having to really work to grind it to 15 ½”.
“Ahhhh,” Blanche screamed out in pain and Brad’s cock twitched to full erectness. He hadn’t really planned on hurting her but the idea of having this much control over her turned him on.
He kicked his pants off, maintaining one hand behind her to keep in support of her shoulders and neck while his other hand cradled her lower back and turned the knob…
“Noo, aieeee,” a sharp pain stabbed at her back as the mechanics involved ground out another quarter inch. She was panting very faintly and rapidly, her waist at 15 ¼.
Brad thrust into her, practically splitting her pussy in two with his magnificent lunge. The force on her lower back was intense, unable to support it, she felt as though she was going to be ripped in two. “Let’s sit you down on something to support you better,” Brad said, and knocked the teddy bear off to the side as he lowered Blanche into the saddle.
He fucked her, pushing down on her pelvis as the weight of their love-making crushed the back of Candy beneath.
Both women cried out in pain as Brad turned the knob to a coveted 15” and rammed his cock home.
From around the bend in the door Sally and Rachel watched, cringing and yet fascinated as Brad tortured their mother. Sally turned to Rachel, wagging her finger, “And that’s what happens if a man gets to your no-no hole,” she said.
Rachel’s mouth turned aghast and she clapped both hands over her lap.
Brad continued to ride the perfect dimensions of Blanche’s divine body, running the numbers over and over in his mind as he fucked her:
38-15-38…
Blanche was screaming for him to stop, trying to explain that if he turned it too much too fast it would not break and not turn back the other way… 38-14-38…
He reached climax just as he felt a great ripping tear…
He climbed off her, seeing her breathing in extremely shallow, helpless breathes. She tried to speak but had no breath for it. Her eyes followed him as he lifted her off of Candy and set her on the floor with the toys.
He bent down and kissed Blanche on the forehead, “You were good baby, you almost went to thirteen.” He smiled, patted her on the boob, and wheeled Candy away.
Candy just hung in mid-air from the wagon as Brad pulled, all of her weight supported by her suffering nipples.
6, Bunny’s Teaparty
Blanche eventually awoke from her painful slumber to the inquiring prods of her daughters. “Would you like some tea Mommy-Bunny?” Sally asked.
Blanche struggled to move, but found it impossible to do much with her incredibly constricted waist. Her legs were practically useless, unable to support her off-balance weight, and her breathing was so shallow she found it impossible to talk.
Sally poured some tea for her mother, continuing on around the table and pouring some for the other stuffed animals as well. Blanche had been dressed by her daughters in a bunny outfit while she had slept, with pink fuzzy ears and a bib.
Rachel picked up a spoon and dipped it into a porridge, lifting it up to her mother’s mouth. Blanche, confused, opened up. Her daughter tipped the porridge in, spilling only a little on her bib.
“Good Mommy-Bunny,” Sally said, lifting the tea up to her mother’s mouth and pouring some in. This time Blanche tried to resist, the porridge had been foul tasting, but once the tea touched her lips she allowed her daughter to pour more in, it was sweet, like honey suckle, and she drank it all eagerly.
“That’s a good Mommy,” Sally said, nodding to Rachel, who picked up another spoonful of porridge.
Blanche grimaced as her daughter stuck the spoon in her mouth and shoved the gruel in. She spit it back out, getting it all over her bib.
“Bad mommy,” Sally said, “Mommy gets punished for that.” Sally walked around behind her mother’s back and grabbed the knob. Blanche mewled as loudly as she could, making little noises with her throat.
Sally grunted and heaved, and managed to turn the knob a bit. It was hard to turn, it would be some time before the girls were able to turn it from the point it was at in-between 13 ¼ and 13 even, but that didn’t stop Sally from trying. As the eighteen year old pushed excruciating pain wracked Blanche’s spine causing the older woman to pant.
“Are you going to be a good Mommy now?”
Blanche nodded, close to tears, and opened her mouth obediently when Rachel shoveled it in. Rachel smiled and clapped for her mother when she had eaten all of it from the spoon.
“Would you like some more tea Mr. Bear?” Sally asked, turning to the stuffed bear in the next seat.
“Ahh, ahh,” Blance begged, wanting some more tea.
Sally glared at her mother, “Bunny has to wait her turn,” she said, agitated. The look in her eye and the soreness in her back made Blanche bow meekly and wait for her daughter to serve imaginary tea to the other stuffed animals before returning to her.
“Okay now you can have some more tea Bunny-Mommy, open up.”
Blanche opened her mouth as Sally poured more of the tea in. She drank it all greedily and held her mouth open as Sally took the source away. “That’s all for now greedy Bunny.”
Blanche had to wait for Sally to check on the other stuffed animal guests before she would get more again.
The doorbell rang. Blanche blanched. Her guests, the other ladies coming over for tea… She had invited them over earlier…
Sally got up and answered the door. A group of middle-aged women came in, all Blanche and Candy’s peers, friends, and regular tea buddies.
“Come in, thank you. I’ll be your hostess for the evening, Bunny, I mean, Mommy is indisposed at the moment.” Blanche tried to mewl so that her friends could hear her, but Rachel took the opportunity to shovel more porridge in her mouth.
Rachel looked all around, Sally was out in the other room, it was just her and the animals now. She hiked up her skirt and started diddling herself, happy to not get scolded by her sister. Blanche watched in disgust as her daughter openly played with herself in seeming ignorance of her own mother.
Rachel picked up the Bear next to her from its seat at the table and shoved it into her cunny, rubbing his button nose and fur over her soft, most insides. Rachel’s face turned to one of happiness as she rubbed the stuffed animal over her privates.
Bunny tried to get up, struggling with her mittened hands and trying to get her back to function. Rachel put the bear down and moved along to the next tea party guest, a tiger, and rubbing the stuffed animal in her cunt. The tiger’s plastic whiskers tickled her sensitive bits.
Bunny was desperate now, trying to stand or move in any fashion. She was able to move a tiny bit with her arms, flailing them, but her body remained for the most party uselessly constricted.
Rachel finished with the Tiger and came upon Bunny next, flailing and trying to escape. “Bunny,” Rachel said, pointing at her mother. She lifted her skirt up and moved towards her mother, her cunt hunting Bunny’s face.
Bunny turned and tried to move, falling onto her back from her seat at the table, where she remained, her legs and waist hidden under the table, for all intents a stuffed torso. Her daughter sat down on her, positioning Bunny’s nose and mouth inside her soft folds.
“Good Bunny,” Rachel cooed, and then lowered her dress, covering Bunny in a sea of pink and taffeta. Blanche smelled her daughter’s young cunt and felt a gentle rocking motion begin, powerless to stop it.
When the women came in to say hello they saw only a young girl playing with her stuffed animals.
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by Alex Streuth
--
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 a comprehensive study.