index


Message-ID: <28047asstr$977825402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: thndrshark@aol.com (Thndrshark)
Subject: {ASSM} My god by Thndrshark (sm,bd,tor,mod,NC)
Date: Tue, 26 Dec 2000 05:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


My god

by Thndrshark



     Her 30th birthday had come and gone much like the others, with little
event. Just like the 12 before, she spent her day in this little room. Well,
there was that time early on when she was taken out, but she had been hooded,
without sight or sound, and didn't really get to see any part of the world she
was beginning to doubt existed any longer. Now, like most of the other years,
she could only stare at the shrine her god had put up for her across the small
six by six room. Despite the years of staring at her own shiny face in the
photographs stuck to the wall, she still found tears rolling down her eyes. At
only 18, she had been so eager, so excited about jumping into the world. Her
birthday was in February and, once she became an adult, she ran away,heading
for New York and the future she knew was so bright.
     Her god seemed so friendly, so nice. Even looking at the pictures now,
taken by him before the day, she could see love growing in her own eyes. She
had been so beautiful then. Her long, curly brown hair had fallen across her
shoulders so gently, surrounding her large eyes and warm smile. She had never
thought of herself as a looker, but she knew she was cute. Her self
consciousness about her body didn't help. Despite encouragement from high
school boyfriends, she always felt her body wasn't good enough for display. Her
wide shoulders made her 34C breasts seems small and her long legs stayed hidden
behind baggy pants. She felt disproportioned. But her god didn't think so.
     Her eyes dropped from the ancient pictures to the mirror strategically
placed for her review. New tears welled up just as they always did when she was
forced to compare what she used to be, to what she had become. She couldn't
help but examine her kneeling form, as she had done the thousand of times
before. Gone was the wavy hair, replaced by the harsh ugliness of her own bald
skull. She remembered trying to fight her god off when he had begun to cut,
then shave her hair. It only took moments as he removed every trace of hair on
her head, even shaving her eyebrows and plucking her eylashes from her eyes.
She could still feel the dull moan that escaped her throat as he applied what
would be many coats of hair depilitory to her head. She knew she would never be
allowed to grow hair again. Her crotch received similar treatment, though her
god had chosen the more painful route. The hot wax yanked the hairs out by the
roots and the depilitory stinged horribly as it was applied. Now, as she looked
over her body, like a baby she could see no hair. 
     She tried to look down herself, but the wide steel collar prevented her.
Glancing back into the mirror, she could remember when he had applied it. When
she was younger, she couldn't even imagine something permanent on her body. She
had shied away from tattoos and even avoided the concept of piercing. But
shortly after her immersion, she learned what permenent truly meant. The
collar, a full three inches wide, had been custom molded for her neck from thin
yet strong stainless steel. She still could feel the cool ring touching her
skin for the first time, and the finality of each rivet locking into place in
back. Her god had told her it would never come off without cutting off her
head, and she knew he was right. Barely a file's width seperated her skin from
the steel; the grip around her neck a constant reminder of her fate.
     She found herself sobbing again, a common reaction to this frequent
personal analysis, and her own focus was shifted by the weights on her chest.
No longer 34C, her breasts had been painfully enlarged to a 38D. From the
beginning, her god had injected each breast with a series of saline injections.
The burning pain had often caused her to lose consciousness, and when she awoke
again, her breasts seemed no larger. But after a few months, she could notice
the change, and after five years, she knew she would be permanently deformed by
this horrible torture. Two years ago, her god had decided to add a unique
adjustment to her breasts. Bands of steel with small spikes around the inside
ring, had been forced around the base of her breasts. The sharp steel set deep
into her flesh, holding the bands in place and, with equivalent finality to her
collar, her god had rivetted them into place. Immediately, her large breasts
began to discolor slightly, and increase in sensitivity. She knew the bands had
been carefully calculated to provide enough circulation to keep her intact, but
decrease it enough to make torture more reactive. One of the first canings to
her enlarged breasts still showed scars, as did the numerous puncture wounds
from knitting needles and other sharp impliments forced through her breasts.
    As she continued to sob, she could hear the light jingle of her bells. Like
a cow, her god had affixed small cow bells to her nipple and clit rings,
reminding her of them constantly. Despite the distance from the mirror to her
body, she could clearly see each ring permanently embedded in her body. Like
the collar, they had been added in the beginning and would never be removed.
Each nipple carried four piercings, three rings and a rod. Her clit, pierced
now 12 years ago, no longer provided any feeling when she was used. She knew
that since the ring actually punctured the clit, and not just the hood, she had
lost all feeling, and all pleasure, derived from her clit. She could also feel
the ring pierced through her sphincter and out through the space between her
pussy and ass. And finally, her face would always bear the large silver ring
through her nose. Dangling from her septum, she could feel it bounce against
the steel grommet holding the hole wide. This, of all things, made her feel
most degraded, most humiliated, though her mouth restriction proved a close
second. Since her first day her mouth had been held open at it's widest, using
a variety of devices. For six years a wide ring gag forced her jaw wide,
followed by metal spreaders between her teeth and now, with the rubber wedges
between her back teeth. The hard substance prevented her from closing her mouth
even the slightest. She stared at herself in the mirror, almost overlooking the
wide mouthed stare she got in return. This final adjustment proved most popular
and was made permanent with a set of holes drilled through her back teeth and
tiny brackets that held the rubber wedges into place.
     She had tried, over the years, to find ways to end her own life, knowing
she would never escape otherwise. She had no use of her arms, her hands having
been taped into small balls, then covered in tight rubber sheaths early on,
then cuffed behind her back with permanent cuffs. Many years ago, her arms
could not stand to have her elbows touching for too long, and they would be
released to provide circulation. But after time, her circulation adjusted and
her god found that she could hold that position permanently. She no longer had
use of her arms. At first, a single, heavy chain had held her on her knees in
her home, and she had tried to knock her head against the floor. But the padded
rubber flooring provided no sharp edges and her god had soon discovered her
attempts. Now, a chain held her to the floor and another locked to the wall
behind her, holding her immobile. During use, she had tried to inhale the cum
or urine she was required to drink, hoping to choke. But she was inexperienced
and only created a coughing jag that disappointed clients and brought down
harsh punishment on her. She vowed to try it again one day, waiting for the
right moment. Unfortunately, she had waited to long. Six months after her
attempt, her god visited her with a new apparatus. A long tube was fed down her
throat, into her stomach, affixing itself at the back of her teeth. At the same
time, breathing tubes were fed up her nose and into her lungs. She found she no
longer had control over what went down her throat. Her god tested this with a
long stream of urine that found itself easily past her tongue. 
     She stared again at the hairless, ringed animal that kneeled before her.
She knew this had become her fate and she would be a servant to her god until
he chose to dispose of her. The familiar clicking of the lock to her small
dungeon broke her thoughts and she dropped her eyes to the floor as she had
learned long ago.
     "And this is my living sex doll," the familiar voice said. She could hear
gasps from the other members of the group as they were led into the room. "Have
your way with her." With that her god disappeared and left her to her life.

The End

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+