# The Picnic

© 2006 Abe Froman and Miss Porcelaina Valeriana

The following story is a work of fiction. It contains scenes of an adult nature, so if you are under legal age where you live, stop reading now. This story contains explicit sexual language and fantasies involving the mental and physical control of others. If you are offended by such activities, do not read any further. This is purely a fantasy. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental.

This story is written for and with Miss Porcelaina Valeriana and all that is mine in it is a gift to her. She is my love and addiction. Please send any comments/suggestions to me at froman.abe@gmail.com. They are appreciated and warmly received.

This story may be reposted or archived provided the following conditions are met:

1) The story is not altered in any way

2) The story contains my name and disclaimer

3) You do not make money from the story

As I lay there, feeling time move so slowly by, my concentration moves back and forth through the discomfort my body is feeling, my own helplessness to do anything about it, how ridiculous I must look at present, and how I wish I could see more of my Lady reclining above me. You see, I’ve been hogtied and laid on the floor, naked but for a lilac brassiere which presses a pair of huge, fake breasts to my body. My body, which, other than for the hair on my head that she has insisted I grow out, has been shaved completely bald. My wrists are cuffed behind me and a chain from those cuffs runs down to the cuffs that similarly hold my ankles, so I can’t even stretch my legs.

I may have fallen asleep on and off, since it seems like I’ve been here forever, and I’ve lost track of time. My Lady, my Mistress, my owner, is reclining in her favourite plush chaise, and the soft rhythm of her breathing is hypnotic, and as lovely as she is.

Sleep must have caught me again, since suddenly she is above me, her heels inches from my face.

“Wake up, slut! It’s 2pm!” She is clearly upset, from the short and urgent movements of her perfect legs, and the way her heels are clicking on the wood floor. “Move your ass, whore! Who told you could sleep so late?”

I can do nothing, dare do nothing but watch as she aligns the spike heel of her boots over my cock, and lowers it slowly and firmly. The result is an urgent pulse of intense pain shooting through me, and each involuntary squirm of my body makes it worse.

“Fucking bitch. Sometimes your disobedience makes me so mad that I want to chop off your balls and force-feed them to you. Fucking prick.” My Lady is so wicked, I don’t know that she won’t do it. There is relief as she lifts her shoe, but I can feel my face stiffen in fear.

The words fly from my lips, “Oh please, my Lady, please no. I’m so sorry to have fallen asleep. I beg you to forgive me, please. I won’t disappoint you. Please, please my Lady. I worship you, my Lady.” There are tears mixed in with my words, and I’m writing in panic and pain. I squirm over as much as I can, my body scraping against the floor as I wriggle my face closer to her, allowing me to place eager kisses on her boots, all over the toes of them, the heels, stretching out my tongue to wash the soles of them.

She hesitates a moment then steps away, leaving me squirming and panting on the floor like an animal.

My pleading may have worked as she changes the subject, at least for the moment. “Now faggot, you know I'm meeting my beautiful friends today at the park. We will be having a Gothic & Lolita gathering! We'll all be dressed in Victorian clothes, lovely Goth wigs, exotic make up and unusual footwear.” The lovely image of my Lady in such ornate clothing rises unbidden into my mind. “You’re going to be going us, and I won’t be waiting around for you, so move your ass now.”

She makes no movement to free me and I know better than to hesitate so I start to writhe as best I can, worming my body over to the dressing area, where my most humiliating costumes are kept. She allows me to get half way there, rubbing my flesh raw where it scrapes against the floor, before she reaches down to unlock my cuffs.

My costume is laid out waiting for me, and I can feel the warm flush rise to my face as I even think of going out in public like this. It is best for me not to think, of course, and just obey. I am hers, of course. I belong to my Lady.

An hour later, as I am walking out in the bright sunshine obediently behind my Lady, I am almost glad for my heavy make-up, hoping it is enough to disguise me. Every time she takes me outside, in ever increasing humiliations, I feel the powerful, intense fear that someone from my old life, my lost life, will recognize me and see what I’ve become.

Today, however, there seems little chance. My hair, now grown out past my shoulders in the countless months that I’ve been hers, has been dyed black and teased out in fluffy curls. My face is thickly coated in a white pancake, making the darkness of my hair even more pronounced. My lips, regularly plumped with merciless collagen treatments, are painted a bright pink – a color to match the garish rouge and eye makeup that has been heavily applied.

My body has been forced into a latex maid’s uniform. I wobble on six-inch heels, locked onto my feet. Seamed fishnet stockings wrap my legs, and are held up with a latex garter belt decorated with white silk bows at each connection. My skirt, in pleated pink latex, doesn’t reach down enough to cover the tops of my stockings. In fact, since it is kept full and bouncing by the layers of lace petticoat beneath it, it barely covers anything. My cock and balls have been guided through a hole in the pink latex panties I’m wearing and further decorated by more white silk ribbon tied in a bow around them. I can feel the crisp air on my naked member, and I know that if I even have to sit or bend over it will be clearly, publicly and obscenely visible.

I wear a skin-tight, sheer white blouse with white ruffles at the high-cut neck and at the cuffs of its long, puffy sleeves. Wrapping tightly around that is my matching pink latex corset. It is reinforced with stiff boning and tight laces, mercilessly forming my profile into an hourglass, and pushing my fake tits even higher. The corset doesn’t cover the nipples on the breast forms, which are so realistic that with the additional screening of the sheer blouse, any observer would have to look very, very close to tell that they weren’t real – though they are so large it would just be assumed they are a different kind of fake.

I am drenched in cheap Britney Spears perfume – surely another reason that my Lady wishes me walking behind her. Those we pass on the busy park’s pathway also have yet another reason to crane their necks and mutter under their breath.

Ahead of me is the striking image of my Lady. She is so beautiful, so perfect – her stunning body is wrapped in a one-piece black latex dress that gleams in the sunshine. I had to apply the powder to her flesh as she prepared so I know that there is nothing on beneath it, though it is so tight to make that fact obvious. Her hair is drawn back tight in a ponytail and her make-up is dark and powerful. Her face too has been lightened with powder, though her lips and eyes are marked with deep black. Her boots are leather, reaching up to her knees, and they lift her at least four inches at the toe and four more at the heel. Her imposing power, her sheer beauty, her undeniable power makes me look even more ridiculous following behind in frilly pink and white.

And now, approaching a gazebo surrounded by blooming violets, I see my Lady’s friends. Much like her, they are visions of dark beauty. Their curves are displayed in their tightly fitted outfits of latex, leather and rubber. Their make-up is thick, garish, and dark. They look as strangely out of place in this idyllic park as my Lady and I do, though even more now I stand out in the most embarrassing way, even in the midst of their uniqueness.

My Lady makes me move faster, and the laughs of her friends ring out as I stumble along, trying to run, with my fake breasts bouncing as much as my clothing allows. My Lady’s friends laugh more and louder as we get closer and I’m made to stand in the middle of the gazebo with all of them sitting on the perimeter benches. It is excruciating, waiting as each of them points out their favourite detail to the others while they make me turn and display myself. I watch out over the park, and the noise of their hysterics only draws further attention to me, from all of those within earshot.

After a few minutes, once the hilarity fades somewhat, my Lady points to the floor and I know to instantly obey. I drop to my knees, and one by one, I crawl to each of them, and kiss and lick each and every shoe. The wood plank floor is murderous on my knees, but even worse is the renewed laughter from behind me. On all fours, my ribbon-wrapped cock and balls are clearly visible poking out of my pink panties and crinoline.

I can’t stop – don’t dare stop – as I’ve only serviced the shoes of two of my Lady’s four friends, and my Lady’s boots I’ve saved for last. So I am helpless: bent over on my knees, head nearly to the floorboards, my bottom in the air. I try to block out the words and the taunts – the audible beating of my heart helps – but through it all, my deep blush fights against the whiteness of my makeup as they tease.

“Oh god, it’s so small!”

“Oh, what a pretty little boyclit!”

“I think it’s pretty, like a wee tiny little piece of jewellery.”

Their high voices, distorted with uncontrollable laughter, tear at my soul like a knife.

Two of them seem to want a closer look, and I can feel them behind me. One of them is pulling up my short skirt and pushing aside my petticoat, exposing me completely.

“You are right, it is rather tiny,” she giggles, “but I have heard that though therapy it can be enlarged a bit.”

I gasp against the shoes, nearly bite my extended tongue, as I feel velvet gloves suddenly grip my exposed shaft tightly. The fingers move slowly at first, feeling me, even teasing my balls, but then they close more tightly, and begin to stroke me in earnest.

“Oh look! I think it’s working!”

I am mortified, and try to bury my face between the anonymous feet, as my body betrays me. I feel the heat of blood rushing to my cock, feel it stiffen with attention and need. Encouraged by results – the growth of my member in her grip – she takes hold even harder, pumping faster. I can feel the tied ribbon tighter now. Once just a humiliating decoration it is becoming an effective cock ring, holding me and keeping me erect. My Lady has often teased me but not let me cum in days, so I feel so full now, so desperate for release.

“My turn, my turn!” the other screams, and for a moment the touch is gone, but only for a moment, as I’m passed off like a toy. I have to keep licking the leather before me while I feel the quality of touch change. Instead of a tight stroking grip, she seems to prefer teasing strokes followed by intermittent rounds of slapping at my cock, watching it react. I can feel that I no longer dangle, but instead my erectness pops back in place like a spring with each slap, causing fresh bouts of laughter.

“Look, look – it’s getting nice and pink to match her uniform!”

Through the haze, I hear my Lady’s voice. “Come, let’s find a better place to play a little more enthusiastically.” There are certainly no arguments heard.

My Lady places a pink leather leash around my neck, and clips a shining metal chain to it, the folded pink leather grip standing out in the black latex glove that encases her fingers and flows up to her elbows. To make things worse, I cannot even walk, but must crawl like an animal, with my erection so visible between my legs.

Getting down the gazebo steps is a cruel chore for my knees, so after that, the cool grass is sweet relief. I see strangers’ eyes turning to watch this strange parade of five lovely female forms in striking black, being led by what could only appear to be a busty slut in a whorish costume crawling on all fours. My eyes cast down to the ground, wondering just how I came to this. Seeing the grass flow by as I move, a realization hits me that the grass will stain my stockings, likely ruining them. Even more horrifying, I can’t help but admit to myself a split second later that my concern was not for punishment, but that with the grass stains, I wouldn’t be as pretty. Has my mind betrayed me as well?

I’ve been led into a small clearing, divided from the main expanse of the park by a few trees and areas of planting, but there are still people visible going by on a distant walkway, and remnants nearby of what might be trail in the grass beaten down by joggers. It appears, however, to be all the privacy that my Lady and her friends desire.

Their attention turns back to me and my skirt is lifted high again, exposing me to the cool air. Hands quickly move to stroke me, slap at me, prod me and quickly return me to me any of the full state of erection that might have passed during our relocation.

I’m biting my lip, fighting my body, losing the war against the building sensations. I’m dressed up like a woman, a sissy whore, and I’m on all fours, leashed and controlled, in a public park no less. I should be screaming and fighting and running. Instead, all I can think about is how absolutely wonderful this feels. I can’t even tell how many hands are on my shaft, my balls, sliding over my ass. I feel the tight pink panties torn away from me, leaving me even more exposed, and I scream out in pleasure. I’m moaning out loud now, not quite making words, but there can be no mistaking that I love the treatment I’m receiving.

The hands are gone suddenly, and I’m panting and writing on all fours, glancing about in need. The only one I can’t see is my Lady, and in a second I know my. I scream out for a moment before I can clamp my jaw shut, as I feel what can only be an immense dildo thrust deeply into my tight ass. My body tenses in pain. It is so large, so full, ramming into me, stuffing me without mercy or patience. I wonder if I’m going to split in half. There is no stopping her, and I realize it must be strapped onto her, as I feel her gloved hands on my hips, and feel the touch of her thighs behind me. She pulls me back onto her as she drives forwards. With every third or fourth thrust, she holds it deep inside me, and only then can I tell that her strap-on is vibrating as well.

One of my Lady’s friends has moved in front of me, separating from the rest who I can hear cheering and clapping. She kneels close and in her hands, inches from my face, is a bright pink rubber dildo, perfectly formed in the model of an immense cock, complete with moulded balls. Her smile is cruel and wide as she forces it into my mouth.

Her grip, as well as the way my body is rocked, drives the dildo deep into me. Horrified, I can feel the modeled ridges of veins and the perfect rendition of the cock’s head. She swirls it around, pumping and spinning it, exploring my mouth. As my Lady starts to fuck me harder, I can hear her moaning and calling out, the rubber cock is driven deeper and deeper, until it forces its way into the tightness of my throat, and I have to fight my own gagging reflex.

Oh god, I’m being fucked in the ass and mouth, all at once, right here in the park. Hands are reaching at me again, stroking my swaying member, working my body against me once more. Oh please, please don’t make me cum like this, don’t make me like it.

I fall into darkness suddenly, and feel the tight grip of leather around my face. One of them is blindfolding me, and it is going on tight. From the colour of darkness, I think it must be pink, some kind of scarf wrapped around my teased hair and made-up face, secured and knotted.

My mouth, roughly used, can only issue forth wet slurping moans as I react to the pain and pleasure at once, and also fight for air as the dildo pushes farther and farther into me – I can even feel the fake balls reach my plump lips now.

My Lady scolds me from behind me, telling me that I’m being much, much to loud of a slut. She pulls out of me, leaving me feeling very open, very empty, and very needy. I feel a tug on the collar, and I’m forced to crawl once more, with the dildo still stuffed in my mouth.

I feel rough branches scrape by me, pulling at my clothing, so I assume I’ve been pulled someone even more discrete. I don’t know if I should be happy for the increased privacy, as it must bring with it even more freedom for those tormenting me.

My Lady (I assume) plunges back into my ass with a fury, fucking me even harder and deeper. My body ached and the pain seemed to build and build, making me wonder how much more I could take before I simply collapsed or mentally gave up. My mouth is again fucked deep and fast as well, and I can barely make sounds between each thrust – I only gurgle and drool and moan.

Taunting voices surround me, telling me what a whore I am, what a slut, how my ass is being stuffed so deep, telling me to suck on that cock like a whore.

And all the while my body is tormented in pleasure. I think I can feel at least two hands on my cock, my balls are being stroked and teased, even my spread thighs are stroked.

My Lady’s voice is suddenly alone and clear, “Ladies, now is the time.”

There is still one hand on my cock, so tight and intense, but the rest have gone. Even the dildo is only held in mouth by my gritted teeth. I’m glistening with sweat in my uniform, but even with that wetness, I feel thick hot moisture hit my face, the back of my neck and high on my thighs. I don’t even have time to think about it.

Now, even the dildo is pulled from my mouth, and I’m drooling on all fours, still driven forward by my Lady’s pistoning rhythm.

I hear her address me, in simple command, “Now slut, cum.”

I can finally release, finally give in to the hands that grip me, and I do. I feel my whole body jerk and spasm as the orgasm is set free. Explosions of cum shoot out from me, and my muscles tighten, making me grip the vibrating dildo deep inside me painfully even as the pleasure is overwhelming.

I’m still cumming, still feeling those tight gloved fingers milk me when the dildo is pushed back between my panting lips. Along with the unique taste of rubber has been added the musky and salty thickness of cum – and again that flash of humiliation, knowing that my Lady’s insistence that I clean up my own “messes” with my tongue has given me the recognition of the taste. This is different somehow, and I wonder if it is the taste of the dildo mixing in.

“Lick it clean, slut. Lick and suck it clean,” my Lady’s voice penetrates the silence.

I work my mouth around it, dragging my tongue around the lewd toy. Rather than being pushed at me, now it is something I have to reach for.

“Do a good job, you cock-sucking whore,” she is laughing. “But don’t take too long, you’ve got four more to do.”

I have to endure only a moment of confusion, before the horror is revealed to me. The blindfold is torn away, and once I blink my way back to clear vision, I can see them, all around me, standing in the mottled sunshine. My Lady’s friends are as truly female as I am, and under each lifted skirt there is a gloved hand, still holding a softening shaft, pointed right at me. Some still have little drops of cum at the head remaining, after they have clearly shot their full load all over me. I can feel it so clearly now, on my cheeks and lips, and all over my pretty uniform.

That is the exact moment that my body convulses once more, but this time I’ve vomited, right there on the grass.

“Silly whore, don’t act so surprised,” lectures my Lady. You didn’t think I’d let you entertain real women on your first trip to the park, did you? You haven’t earned anything near that yet.”

The fourth, who had been stroking me, had caught all that I had released and now, as if in payment for not getting to cum on me himself, smeared the yellowish-white goo across my face and eyes, finally wiping the lace white gloves as clean as possible in my hair.

“While he’s cleaning, sugar, why don’t you help yourself to this nice wide ass?” my Lady offered him once he was finished.

My mind is shutting down, my sense of self is destroyed I think, eaten from within. I think I will remember this forever, as the day I was really fully broken.

I’m thinking, as my mind sort of floats into and out of my body, that it’s more humiliating that I would have even guessed. Each one is softer, more real, and warmer that any toy, and truly pulsing with heated blood and jizz ready to shoot into me.

Shoot into me they do. Into my mouth: again and again and again. Into my sore and used ass. I think I am slapped across the face four times, for not servicing them eagerly or enthusiastically enough.

I’m walking back now, back to my new home, my Lady’s home. They are all a distance behind me now, so that I can be seen first. My lips feel raw, and must be even more swollen than usual. I can only imagine that my make-up is smeared under the drying sheen of cum on my face. It is thick in my hair, and visible on the bright pink of my uniform, and the grass stains on my knees make in an easy guess where it came from. I can feel the warm ooze from my used ass as I walk.

Is this the worst? Or is it not knowing what my Lady meant when she pushed me to get stared on the way back, saying, “I’ve got another task for you, faggot, and I’m going to like this one even more.”

TO BE CONTINUED?

Please send any comments/suggestions to me at froman.author@gmail.com. They are appreciated and warmly received.