by Garden Variety
Cast of Characters
Babs [also known as Babsie] – A full-figured Net girl
Pete – Her boyfriend, a geek, builds Babs’ website
Susie – A newbie first-timer to the Net
Mistress Nadi – Cruel consultant dominatrix
Minor characters include Lady and Drunk on train
All characters were more than eighteen by the time of the story. [Except flashbacks.]
CAVEAT: Activities described herein may be hazardous to health, so please don’t try this at home!
Story codes: F/F, M/F, MF/F, breast, BDSM, wax, toys, nipple, face-slapping, lesbian sex, suspension, XX
Most folks want to hear about how I got my start in this business and how I specialize in selling my panties. I’m an amply-proportioned chick, with big boobs, a smallish waist and large hips. My feet and legs were my first treasures. All boys appreciated Babs’ long, smooth legs. Two guys, to include my high-school sweetie, Roger, suggest I model shoes. It isn’t long before I model my first gigs, though I’m only sixteen, lie about my age and get working papers. I’m paid in shoes for my first and second jobs, but they’re beautiful. Crocodile-hide shoes and silver ones that lace way up my chubby legs. I’m out with one chap, tell him my shoes are faux, or fake-crocodile, ‘cause he objects to the real-croc kind, but they aren’t! My silver sandals are the ones that led to my new career. They got long wacky leg-straps.
Their silver isn’t even plate, but merely a coating on silvery straps that wrap way up my thighs. [Normal thighs in those days. Read: Less fat.] I show off smooth long legs. Shiny, silver-rope-wrapped on my new website. [I’m with Pete now, not my first husband Roger, and he, Pete, does web stuff.] The Net is new at this time. Not many girls willing to show their bodies. Don’t mind nudity. After “good response” [Pete’s phrase for an income], I haul my silver straps tight. Don’t wear panties. Squeezed uncomfortably; metallic ropes carve into my soft white thigh-flesh. [I’m dark-blonde and pressure on my touchy skin leaves nasty red lines.]
Out comes a cute light-brown bush. Soon I pose nude. My website cult follows. My 36DD-boobs peak my feature attraction, so I let ‘em out. [Boingg!] I sport wide, pinkish-red aureoles topped by long, dark-red nipples. Pete handcuffs me hand and foot. I wear a lavender bed-coat. He whacks a flogger up my long svelte legs as I sit in a chair, makes me turn back-on, lean out my well-fleshed, very-rounded bottom at fans: Love close-shots? I hit. Sting overall from his thorough, forty-stroke flogger-beating. Pete doesn’t push me far. My fans can’t tell his flogger’s light?
So, Pete-nudged, I write my site’s menu, listing at its base, 'Panties, $10'. In floods unexpected requests. I start to wash out my pair.
“What are you doing?” Pete asks.
I say, ”At that price, buyers should at least get clean ones?” Pete says they pay to smell me. How silly I am!
Pete sets me straight; he also stops me buying three-packs of panties: Says he’ll get a wholesale deal of a hundred pants at a time for seventy-five cents each! We really pull in the big bucks. I must change three times a day. Tell my site-members the competing 36-inch hip-girls are phony wannabes; I got 38-inch hips and wear a small-‘Medium’ size six; those girls wear ‘Small’ size five. Insist on mine. I tell buyers this. Pete close-up-films my large hips, not-so-trim waist, fat bottom, for website. Drives my people’s misplaced lust batty. I’m curvy. Round belly. I’d lose five or ten pounds easy. I get twice the panty-orders! We send them out as soon as possible, but we fall behind. Oops, an unintended funny. Excuse me, that’s a no-no! Net-girls mustn’t be humorous. It isn’t sexy? Don’t understand. Go on with my bondage-torture films ‘cause I’m in the money. Much better than being a foot and leg model!
Don’t have to explain that my torment gets more severe? Wax stings my legs, bottom, belly and huge hooters. “Ouch!” I complain because my skin is reddened for days, but the money is better still!
My waxing scene, if you missed my video: Led into my dungeon, blindfolded; take those small chained-perp steps. I wear all white, a modified nurse-uniform. Pete pushes me in more, demands: “Strip completely.” He’s always dressed in black T-shirt and pants. Slowly undress, bare my pallid, soft, round shoulders, vulnerable bra-encased titties and thong-cut, plain-white panties. Next, at a nudge, I fondle and tease myself, caress my bra-cup edges while blankly stare into camera. I undo my large bra, letting my hefty 36DD-boobs fall out with a flounce and sway. I pass for a beauty at a distance?
Pete’s grins to see my wide pinkish-red aureoles as I caress my long, red, half-erect nipples. I bend over, open-mouthed, displaying my hanging fullness and slowly bare my big round butt [Pete’s rushing backwards and forwards, films all views of me], push down my panties. [Many ask for this pair, but I sold them only once. We charge double.] I lie face-up [as my belly slides and flopping breasts subside into my armpits] on my waxing-bench, which fits; it should since my bench’s length is exactly mine from top of my head to ass-crack. Pete brings arms up over my head and tightens my wrists into cuffs attached on upper bench-legs. My ankles snap into the lower-bench-legs cuffs. Unnecessary-refinement is a middle waist-strap he’s buckling onto my flattened belly. Pete lifts my blindfold, shocks: Gauntlets tong-held dirty, steaming-hot, stove-pail before my eyes! …It’s super-hot red crap! Shake my head - I hurt already - Don’t burn me more…Waxing proceeds, tortures me horribly. “Aieeee!” I scream: Red wax’s hotter than yellow wax. For my large tits-armpits-thighs-belly-sides? [I take wax if it’s short.]
“Lookee here, some nice red-hot wax I heated up for you, Babs!” He flicks wax drops on my separated thighs.
They burn awfully, and I scream: “Noooo! Don’t! Please…”
Laughing manically, as I jerk my thighs, butt and holler. He brushes, burns my legs up to my cooze with the hot red wax. It’s the interval in-between when I worry. I can’t stand tension of waiting, but Pete forces me attend to him nearly-imploring?
I look up into his eyes and say, “Don’t do it to me… please, Darling…”
After a wait for my pain to seep in my skin, he slathers steaming-hot goop onto both my so-soft, tender, white, inner thighs, chuckles maliciously. I shake and scream. He starts in again dipping his brush in the pail. Paints hot wax around my tiny belly! It’s awful! “Aieeee!” I scream ‘til hoarse as he feverishly waxes my calves, armpits and neck. “Ye-owww!” Next, Pete downs his red pail. Reaches for his yellow one, on a stove nearby. It’s for my tender areas - killer. My pussy, swollen nipples and bellybutton. Yell loud: Nothing comes out, except air! I lose my voice! Pete goes mad with his brush, painting me yellow up and down and sideways! My tits are left nearly unpainted, so he goes back to the stove for his red pail. He’s laughing, pouring hot goop onto my boobs! They smart from yellowed long nipples. The steaming red wax adds onto my pinkish-red aureoles. It drips on down, meeting with hardening red on my sides, belly and armpits. They all hurt at once – I’m feeling faint! I’m start to reach my limit. “Ohhhh!” [Grey-out!] My threshold is not that high. I’m a beginner. Awake to his skinning-off my wax. Bad too. He says he will shut our camera off. Goes to machine, adjusts knurls, presses red-lit button off.
I huff and puff. Pete says now he’ll employ other girls to take it, if I can’t. Cruelly chortles in my face… lousy hot breath. He knows how to push my buttons. I don’t want competitors. Can I be pierced? There’s a hardcore fan-segment wanting this: Tattooing, branding, piercing; anal and real hard-core penetrations. I say it makes me less-valuable as a saleable commodity. [I push Pete’s buttons, too!]
So he relents and we go on with my doing more stretching myself open and spreading myself wide instead. Pink close-ups! In splits! Upside-down! Pete net-suspends me, whips. Body parts stick out through: Elicits screams by hitting me! I avoid strokes jumping when I can, pull my tits, thighs, bottom-cheeks, my belly, in – I’m cramped. He delights in whipping my boobs, pussy, thighs, asshole!
Stand spread-eagled so when he whips my butt, I swing out into space for a moment and hang by my huge tits and suction-cupped pussy! Clamped tits yanking and like to rip my nips off. With chains up to pulleys in the ceiling. These modifications were pricey, but we afford anything now. Brought in clothed, Pete strips me, rather brutally yanking my top down so my big boobs show. Next, he pulls my skirt zipper. Off! [My panties: Another pair my fans asked for: Although we charged triple, we could have gotten more!] He pulls up my arms and attaches my wrists to the overhead pulleys, spread-eagled.
Clip! Clip! His usually warm hands palming my smooth perfect ankles feel cool. A spreader bar: I feel its added weight! My feet Pete’s leaving alone except a spreader-bar attached to my ankles by rough-hide cuffs. Exposes my pussy and thighs and asshole beyond my lack of modesty…[“That’s way too wide!”] Going behind me, I see later the camera’s held in his mouth because of its closeness and angle? Trains two extra cameras on my face, boobs; one on my pussy, butt. Big hands maul my pussy, asshole. Plop! Pop! Plop! Pop! Pete’s sticking his thumb into my ass, taking it out! His four fingers press hard, invade my pussy! I hold my breath, bite my lower lip. Next, let breath escape and draw in a harsh gasp of air. “Pete stop that’s obnoxious!” He removes, penetrates me the same, his other hand!
Pushes a button on the wall so three more chains descend. After holding up each viciously-toothed clamp in my face, and licking his lips evilly, clamped my nipples. Each is a real deep bite and I tremble, not acting because I’m scared. “Ow!” My tit-pain radiates [“Uh!”], and my other nipple hurts no less as he lets go abruptly. “Ow!” Can’t describe? Terrible already, yet he’s hooking my two nipple-clamps to the hanging-loose chains! He puts a transparent suction-cup atop my pussy and toggles it. It sticks tight to me! He hooks a third chain to the hasp of this device! Says I’ll be tits-and-pussy-suspended, each time I swing forward when he whips me! He retreats to get behind me, raises up our pulleys so I teeter tiptoed. Pete hits my bottom hard with a heavy flogger from behind me. I’m crying and moaning: “Oh no, aaah…” As my feet fly out, my elevated tits and pussy hard-drug on. Whacks to my back and rear end are slightly lessened by distracting yanks to my tits and pussy? I land back; crazily scrabble my toes at the ground, only to be whipped a half-dozen cuts! Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt! This slides me forward again. Into the air hanging by nearly-ripped-loose nipples and my pussy! Owwww! My ordeal repeats seven times over!
Unfortunately we order a dungeon installed. Naked, I stand near a very-small, cramped cage where I hunker down to fit inside. Pete ties my hands behind, folds me down to where I’m sitting on my heels, runs the rope to my ankles, ties around them and shoves me inside seesawing. Breast-clamps link a short-chain distance to my clit-clamp! You don’t want to know how that thing feels. A monstrosity. I scream into his face, my boyfriend holds his ears, grins and slams my cage door shut, locked! Looks at my terror happily from his free side of the bars. Shakes my cage from its outside bars… It’s called predicament-bondage. I unfold myself an inch or two when my nipples yank on my tit-chain: That’s attached to my clit-clip! “Aieee!” See red, cry. How can this be sexy? In real trouble, I plead it be over!
Yet my following raves at everything I do. They send in the most-outrageous requests. We try a few of the less-fatal ones and they are murder. “Hands behind back –Now!” Pete gets behind me. I place my hands in my small back, where he unclenches my fingers into palm-to-palm position and ties me up. “Tits raised!” A nasty device is fitted to me, above and below bars, tightened to flatten: My boobs squeezed to hurting and numbing. Bars above and below squeeze me tight as though to amputate my breasts entirely. I implore sincerely…
“I hurt. Loosen me please, Pete…” Winds the knurls more, wing-nuts at side-clamps. “’Sposed to…” Pete sees where my shackled feet land my knees. Sprinkles uncooked rice on the floor there, next tweaks my nipples harshly, [“Stop that! It hurts cruel!” “Shows you’re still feeling …Good…”] by nips, yanks me down, my knees onto his hard sharp grains. Unnecessarily-tight chain connects my wrists to my ankles, slack outed from it rattling fast, uncaring painfully looped around to double-weight thickness.
My tits are roller-vised. My inch-thick bars fit below and above my fat tits fairly comfortably and support me. Dark-red felt-coated, don’t feel so bad at first, yet when Pete moves each side upward with successive turns of the screws…? Crushes steel bars into my yielding softnesses from the top and bottom, I watch helplessly as my lovely enormities crunch, turn bluish. My hands tied in the reverse-prayer position behind, I kneel on uncooked rice kernels that hurt my knees. Wish he hadn’t added those. A doubled hogtie-chain from my behind-tied hands to shackled ankles. Utter helplessness. Humongous bulbous, purple breasts squeeze flat at their bases, football out toward my pinkish-red, wide aureoles, long darker-red nipples, weight near-amputates! “Oh please Pete, let me out!” Sniggers.
To please my people: I‘ll wear a big, artificial-dick vibrator in me. It’s specified as metric size: Five by twenty centimeters: Which I fit, since my not-so-huge-inside pussy measures two inches wide by seven and three-quarters long. Dildo’s screwed into me upside-side-down suspended and I’ll wear it vibrating on a train for forty minutes. Well, that’s possible, even that I’m to wear an open-jacket over a braless sheer blouse. As long as Pete is there to stand guard? My large-protruding, topside-attraction without flaunting my gigantic hooters is great. [There’s sure to be trouble dressed that way in public!]
I lie on my back and stick up my legs, Pete puts them into hanging ankle shackles, hoists me legs-first, separating my legs, starts to push and turn the lubed dildo downward into my pussy. [Fans forgot to specify not to grease the corkscrew dildo!] It’s the whole size of me and then-some, but the last half-or-quarter inch is smaller around. Its end sticks out from my pussy a tiny bit. Hurting at my far rear-pussy, I holler: “No more – You’ve got it into me the whole way now!” Pete lets me down gently; my hair sweeps the floor. While he holds my hair, slides over a mat to collect me better. Get loose.
“Feel really full and I can hardly even walk…” Pete’s filming my bow-legging it to the train. See a red-velour-jacketed matron, a space, and a sleeping drunk. I sit between them. Lower myself gingerly. My vibrator pulses wildly. I sigh and open my legs involuntarily. My vibe’s forced-in and jerking. The red-velour-jacket Lady moves farther away. The drunk moans in keeping with my vibe’s humming. My orgasm is building: I hardly keep my hands away from my large, outstanding, braless tits. I cover up by coughing, but the neighbor woman notices my eyes-closed, hard-coming: “Arggghhh!” Accidentally I jounce my feet, slapping them against the floor.
The drunk crookedly looks up. “Misses, your coat…”
My lapels flipped open, he points out my tits, but I ignore him. Eyes rolling, I’ve half the time to go. Another orgasm builds - I can’t help it - my groin is hot from the rattling of my vibe. I don’t move because it might be my last orgasm, if I let nature take its course. But if this starchy, sheer-white net-blouse jiggles my nipples any more, I won’t be able to hold off my coming! I’d three blouses to choose from: One is red [not so good ‘cause it fires up the men.] The other’s shiny black-satin: It’s got a similar effect. I’m flopping my boobs! Rough rocking-coming! “Arggghhhh!” Worse than the first. I got a ways to go on this trip yet! I see the woman give me a nasty look. The drunk cranes his neck waggling dirty eyes at me; subsides back to his seat. The train vibrates almost in the same frequency as my dildo, which makes me open my legs more. To avoid being torn?
A crowd appears and stands partly in front of me. I can’t see Pete, but I see his camera eye poking in-between folks. I got to get out of here! Yet I curve my bosom squashed and try to tuck. “Shriek!” [A tumultuous crash as my train shudders to a stop.] The drunk’s head is lying on my lap: His greasy face grins up at me. His hands grab my oh-so-visible jugs. Loose mouth: “It’s a while since I held nice, big girl-tits.” Smiles.
I bump him with my knees. “Stop that!” I slap his hands and lift him back up to wobbly-sitting.
The lady alongside says, “You asked for it!”
Two admen commuters, strap-hanging above, laugh. Pete pulls me out of there, saying, “Babs, we got enough. Let’s go!” Only I shake, have trouble standing. Shorter, better-looking commuter-guy sidles into my warm seat under me. Much tit-grabbed, bowleg to the door in my train, suddenly shrieking and jerking ahead a few feet at a time. I grab at a strap and a pole, losing my balance, my pussy hurts? My hand grabs hold of Pete’s dick! Start my third orgasm for unknown reasons, unless it’s feel-ups: Asshole strangers paw my tits and press forks hard at my ass? I look helplessly into Pete’s hard eyes. I turn scowling at guy behind.
My pussy wears a humongous dildo. It has a corkscrew on it, and its slightly-rounded point is really ripping into the back of my pussy. I guess it’s hit my cervix…? This thing’s lubed, but it’s wider, longer than any man! Try as I might I can’t eject it! Its smaller base is pushed exactly into me? I’m slapping hands off my pained bottom. I’m glad to reach a platform, make for its decayed ladies’ room.
* * *
I fill with awful anal plugs and choking penis-gags. My ass is not so wide as these plugs. I look ugly with my face distorted. I can’t say I like latex crowding into and distending my cheeks, either ones. My rear end pains greatly, like my worst constipation ever? Or blindfolded. Makes me stumble. I’m way less good-looking. I resemble a blind pig. My audience loves it: Begs for more, more, more…
Yesterday was my birthday: I’m 21. Young? Well, I don’t feel it! “Been around the block a couple of times”, or is it that my odometer actually turned over? I celebrate on my site.
A guest, a Mistress called Nadi. She’s scary in black leather. Nadi strips me for Pete’s camera. With oohing, aahing at my overripe full-figure. My pale-yellow half-bra is abruptly removed, causing my bosom’s bounce and jig. [“Ooh la-la!”] Tracing my long red nipples. Tweaks them not-so-gently. Patting, poking my soft pinkish-red aureoles, saying, “Nice, wide brims for clamping!” Strokes me, saying, “You must enjoy these big tits so much, Petey!”
In defense of my boobs, I raise my hands feebly toward Nadi. She swats me down, grasps my wrists and leads me to a bench. Lifts my heavy round butt-cheeks. “Impressive. I’d skewer Babs’ meaty buttocks, if I were her Master, Pete.” Slaps at my roundish, near-perfect, butt-cheeks with scratchy nails; her dark bonyness well-contrasts my paleness.
Next, yanks me face-up. Attaches my wrists to the bench while Pete pulls taut, snaps my ankles. Nadi sticks candle-wax, jams lit candles onto my boobs. Stings both breasts, burns awful especially the jamming. My nipples, my armpits, my pussy, my front-thighs and my neat feet: Mistreated! Mistress roasts all of me with wax! “Aieeeee!” I scream, struggle rock so, I nearly overturn my waxing-bench. It’s really a bit too much to take! I feel horrible burns in my tits and pussy, my thighs, belly, everywhere!
Nadi talks softly to Pete. I can’t make it out through my suffering, but he goes to a locker and brings back - horror of horrors - a penis-gag! It’s fits my face despite my wiggling. Nadi quietly intones, “It won’t hurt much if you cooperate…” So I do: Open as wide as I can. With a plastic taste and smell, the black, veined and ribbed, facsimile-dong cramps my mouth, snappy straps buckle around my head. “Can you breathe?” Knocks my head lightly with whip-handle. I nod grimacing from head-knock.
My bellybutton is filled to its brim with her hot burning wax and a candle shoved atop it. Squishing in the wax to fill unburned crinkles? “Ye-Owwww!” My muffled scream isn’t loud. They agree gag works well? Nadi pushes in all my other burns! Torture feels hell on my nipples and aureoles. While Mistress Nadi burningly fills up my abused pussy with yellow, hot wax. I’m wriggling, waving my lighted candles.
“Sixteen Candles,” a golden oldie, badly-yowled by the two of them, Pete and Nadi, reprised with their arms on their shoulders. Next they release me. Only to turn me bottom-up, pluck candles off, re-attach me at arms and ankles. I’m counting my wax burns as some candles fall. I only get eleven. Nadi shoves a candle into my butt, others onto the crease at the bottom of my ass on both sides; Nadi stops to feel all down my long, smooth, white, back-thighs. Next, plunks two more candles on both my curvies. “Owwww!” Hot wax pours onto my ass-crack – Nadi lifts out my anus-candle and yellow-wax burns and she fills my asshole carefully– sears all the way down to my exactly-packed, jello-consistency, hardening-wax-filled pussy. “Can’t take much more.” I say inaudibly. Her last candle plunges into the rear of my sex. It’s close to duplicating her earlier front-pussy-candle: Adds to seventeen, too. I can’t complain, a total submissive for show. After all, I’m twenty-one! I can’t see hardly, through my wavering-teary blurred-view, but they sing another chorus of the song, again very bad. “Makes a lovely light.” I feel really queasy from abuse, sooo sick. At “Blow out the candles,” in their songfest, they blow them out, spilling stinging wax, laughing. Pete undoes my gag buckles, lifts it out of my sore mouth, off.
“Babs-baby, you vomit here.” He places a crock-pot below my bench. Adjusts his camera so it films both me bound to my bench and in a longer shot, him escorting leaving-Nadi. Pete shows Nadi out, paying her on the way. She in her black-leather Mistress-attire. I’ll bet she’s sweaty! Must need quite a cleaning bill, think absently. Nadi pulls down her top asking Pete to compare, “I’ve got tits too!”
She doesn’t compare to mine, happy to say! Nadi’s whisper reaches me. “Anytime, my pleasure, Petey. I won’t charge extra to whip off wax if you’d like. You’ve paid for my whole day?”
Gestures emphasize. Her hands move? I tremble at offer.
“Babs isn’t ready yet. She’s got a ways to go. Her people’ll pacify with this installment for now.”
Mistress Nadi grins in agreement. I guess this is work for her. Or she also gets off on sadism?
The Mistress must be Bi, since I see she’s touching Pete’s chest and saying something inaudible as she exits, her fingertips might be inside his shirtfront! I hate fierce rotter Nadi. I try to kick and yell. “Sicko bastards!” I don’t feel ill now. Our door closes on Nadi waving, evilly chuckling. “Heh-heh-heh!”
“Enjoying your ‘Happy Birthday’, Baby?” All smiles, Pete returns to unbuckle my wrists and ankles, helps me up. Demonstrates his abrupt and painful edge-picking and pulling-peeling of all my wax close to the camera. It’s as noisy as tape. I flinch when longer runs peel. It‘s like being flayed alive!
He lays me down as I holler: “Ouch! No! Don’t! I’m too tender!” My huge, misshapen tits flare hurt as I gather-lift-fully-display my swollen, tortured red nipples, puffy, wide pinkish-red aureoles, for my homebody’s view. Shorn pussy, my bright-red asshole: Horrific sights for my site-members to see so close-up! [Don’t want to know how my insides swell blood-red. It’s hard-to-take flesh: Believe me!]
“Smile for your fans, now, Babsie…” Pete demands, pretending to face-slap me, only light pats back and forth. Reddens my cheeks? It makes me cry, or at least my eyes run, but I do manage to smile through it somehow. I hurt ’cause Pete flirts with Nadi, not from my physical all-over stings. It’s sort of a crooked forced smile I give- not reaching eyes: I must. My people love me in their weird twisted way?
Pete tells me our revenues bumped up after my birthday, but afterwards, continue their down-trend. It’s all the new Web girls on our Net, he says. In-their-bedrooms always-online fulltime Cam-girls do everything I don’t. He wants me to do at least Girl-Girl. I demur, say I’ve been there, done that…
My boyfriend ignores my protest, emails in hand: I can choose Jap robot-sex with doll-girls; or a real girl maybe Mistress Nadi? “No way,” I tell him, “The cruel bitch don’t appeal to me in the slightest!”
“OK’, Pete agrees “You pick who you like, but you can’t go on the way we’ve been. Tough competition for fans.”
I think back to my three lesbian experiences, all when I was thirteen, fourteen and fifteen: Two-week girl-scout camp-out, a month at boarding school and a summer of regular camp.
My first love is a petite dark girl, Minnie. Those dark blue eyes! I can eat her up, if I know how. She is so sweet and pretty, really no figure except its rudimentary-potential shows? [I already fill a B-cup. My nipples are a half-inch with half-inch-wide, red aureoles, half what causes present-shouting.] Minnie kneels to tie my shoelaces for me. Moist, devoted, dark-blue eyes gaze up at me! We kiss behind cabins. Spend an uneventful night, no lovemaking. We’re ignorant of what girls do. But oh-so comfy in our single sleeping bag, press up against nakedness. Tiny tits, flat bellies, unformed pussies and naturally, our thin lips smash together. We turn out to be geographically-unsuitable when we get home. Minnie lives in Gilhooley, 2½-3 miles from my hometown. Neither of us drive. After both our Moms catch us kissing, our Daddies won’t drive us back and forth anymore. We each walk twice, but our love-affair dies out anyway. I never get to know Minnie. I loved her with a rapacious appetite.
My second experiment came at sleep-away school a year later; my appearance’s almost my figure. Guys watch me go by. I won’t let them. Why do I let Wendy? A hoydenish, dark, devil-may-care girl with an average body comes-on to me. She is sexy with no female equipment but alluring, gracefully -feminine? We go to bed twice in the dorm. I learn to girl-please. Her smell is OK? She tries and tries; can’t bring me off. I won’t let her strap-on. Wendy blames this for our failure. Secretly I’m glad when she seeks another. I dislike our slinking at night, not calling out-loud, giggling-licking, squashed-tight in one bunk-bed. Wendy’s the last time I let a girl or boy have me, just because they want me so bad.
At summer camp the next year, I enjoy a real affair with Susie, a tight-unit, white-blonde; immaculately turned out. She washes and irons her clothes, mine too, when we are together. She uses makeup when she doesn’t need to, tries to convince me into mascara, eye-shadow and rouge. I stick to lipstick. Susie concentrates on sex in exactly the same way. Hardworking, dedicated and thorough. Won’t let me eat her ‘til she makes me orgasm twice. Susie whirls her head between my legs excitedly and kisses me, her mouth wide-open. Brushes her teeth in-between her pussy-eating and kissing my mouth! Other than this is unthinkable! We lie in each other’s arms until near daybreak all summer long. Afterwards I learn to eat her pussy as good as Susie does mine. Only her perfectionism gets to me. And that waiting! She takes forever–thrashes coming–bites her tongue not to yell? I miss fair Susie’s body.
I heard from Susie a year or two ago. She is married, yet saw me impaled on my awful corkscrew dildo. Writes me an email: “I always knew you had it in you!” Or some such rot. Where is it now? Oh, here we go. I write her back: “Fond memories of our summer-camp idyll…” Etc. In case I need her, I add: “Please get back in touch if you can stand the heat!”
I tell Pete I’ll try his Jap love-doll equipment, if we can handle the freight. Pete says, “Baby, you can afford it even if it’s a total floperoo!”
It isn’t quite a flop. I’m to use it either as [according to Jap-lish instruction booklet] “lower-body favor” or “upper-body favor” and “the sixty-nine”, if I don’t mind a robot-lover. I get horizontal to my doll and kiss it. A remarkably-lifelike tongue answers me. And if I toothbrush it off, shades of Susie, I use its gloppy, rubber tongue on my upper or lower body parts. It won’t stop until I shut it off. Better than lots I knew! I try “the sixty-nine.” I turn my doll upside-down to use “the sixty-nine” setting. I couple in four different positions with Jap doll before I say, “That’s enough!”
“Good,” says my boyfriend. “If I can’t get a refund since we used it, we made up equipment-cost with your four Japanese doll-love videos we have to offer. Fans drool, stare at you naked in bed. And I’m not replaced by a machine.”
I reach orgasm but my doll sores me in a few very-touchy spots. I’d rather not go into detail, if you don’t mind? Instead, I see an email where Susie says she is divorced now. Willing to be on the Net with a small black ‘domino’ mask hiding her face. I answer her on the phone, say to come by tomorrow around noon for action. The night before, I leave out a good deal of cash in case I need it for Susie’s fee.
“All that? You must expect a lot of Susie!” [Asks tightwad Pete, who turns out the light and climbs over me.] Afterwards, I forget about Susie. Briefly visit other climes - ears-ring - another planet?
[Susie studies my fans’ weird ideas for what they’d like to see: Piercing, tattooing and branding my pudgy tits, thighs and butt, among other horrors.] “These are very tough! Only the waxing-tub seems at all possible! What about that?” I shudder to think of how that feels. Red-hot steel imbedded?
Pull the smaller girl on my lap, touch her little round boobs: I agree my fans’ suggestions are zany to impossible. We’ll do a wax-tub immersion ‘cause we got pulleys, the tub and full amount of wax. Twiddle her teeny pink nipples, say yellow wax isn’t as hot. Flick her little tits, cause murmurs. “Oh! Oh!” Kissing me over her shoulder leads to make-out. Susie feels me: Fingers encircle my huge boobs, heft my heavies, unsnap, warm me inside. “You’re so…” “Ahhhh…” Gently caress my exciting full tit, hip curves! I way-minimize pain in a dunk into a hot-wax-filled tub. A gruesome ordeal! Sizzles!
She is nice. Her figure is maybe an inch larger all over than originally. Which she needs. Now she looks like a girl instead of a model. “I should lose ten pounds…” Susie says, but it isn’t true. She’d be thin. I describe her C-cup boobs as fruity with small pink nipples, her longish thighs, tender, and puss, pouty. Her ass is a bubble-butt with extra, so it’s a heart-shape: Smooth white belly not quite flat; who cares? Her nifty upper and lower back indentations. I’d love her easy. Susie’s curves curve subtly!
I hold her white hair behind, pull her head back. “You’ll do whatever I say, won’t you, Susie?” I have dough to pay but why bother offering it now? I kiss her deep. She’s my sex-slave, a new role for Susie. Moves her breasts, pussy toward me. I feel both sides of her vage hard-squash up against me, too. She’s hot! Feel, squeeze tenderly both her breasts, finger around her tiny nipples, poke them and up-and-down pussy-feel, jab into her pussy a little ways, even into her ass, through her clothes. I begin to strip her and offing her bra, she’s snow-white with rosy, small nipples. Pop up invitingly. I lick both a little as she proffers them out ahhing. While Susie moans, she unbuttons my blouse her eyes closed; I pull her skirt, panties to the curve of her ass. Her clothes jam tight against pale flesh. She opens eyes…
“Let me help…” She unzips and it’s a great deal easier to down them. Her bush is yellow and sparse, unlike my own. I kneel to eat her blonde-haired pussy. I trace her belly’s curves and at edges, her long, smooth, slim girl-thighs’ pretty curves. While my magic’s fluffing her small, hardly-expanded pussy-lips Susie moans, “Oh, yes-yes-yes, right there. I’ll do your bidding, Babs, always…Uhhhhhhhh.”
I bring her to orgasm again so she knows she’s owned and by who. I get up and thrust my voluminous tits into her mouth. Overpower her, atop I crush her, my flesh covers her completely, boobs jutting onto Susie’s face. I feel masterful. I move off her and put my foot onto her pussy, roughly rubbing the ball of my foot against her slit scratchily and insert one big toe inside her and the other in her asshole. I climb up her, my legs twist and I fall. “Splat! Thunk! Aieee!” There’s an ear-splitting crash! Don’t know ‘til later, I realize my bed fell. We’re head-down and feet up. I on top, nearly all of me weighing upon my small, fair Susie. Her slight chest hardly puffs itself upward with me on her! Incredible warmth. Totally dark. I lift my knees off the upper bed so my whole weight is thrown onto Susie. I look down into her pinched, eyes-rolled-up, white-headed face. Enjoying my feel of mastery…
“Get off me! Please, Babsie… I can’t breathe…” I hear a small voice sputter. I roll off, my legs upward. So only the top-half of our bed is collapsed? I start to giggle. Soon we both non-stop laugh. Susie hugs me awful-tight to her body.
Pete appears, bends down and looks, says, “The board in the mid-top slipped out and the other two boards on either side are cracked.” He’ll go and get more made but we got to wait. Can we? I say yes for both of us. He adjusts his camera which ran the whole time. Silently passes me a black Domino mask. I put it on Susie. She kisses me, which feels strange with her mask on. Papery. I scoot up on my bed; it seesaws creakily. Our bed wobbles. We are all but on the floor in the upper half of it. I slide my hands under the back of my lover’s white head and her ass to protect what’s important.
“You care…” Susie passionately tongues her whole being into my mouth, her nipples plunge against mine and her bush is forward and up pressing at mine. I will hate hurting her? Two ass-swats: Pete pats, says he’ll assemble our rack. It arrived this morning in a cluster of big parcels.
* * *
I’m flat on my back, big boobs flatten toward my armpits, a rise missing on my belly. That’s good, since I shouldn’t tummy-bulge. My legs strapped-tight to separate flats, spread so whipper Susie can stand in the middle of the bottom of my rack. Face-up on my back, I get Pete to tighten me to the rack, since Susie refuses. Pete levers, ratcheting noisy clicks of pain until my chains stretch out all the way, the shackles on my wrists and ankles are taut, but not yanking at me especially.
I yell to Susie, who’s weeping-flogging simultaneously. “Go ahead, Baby, you whip a bunch on my thighs and pussy!” I do hurt when Susie hits my nipples, aureoles and tits; my thighs, asshole and pussy. But I won’t stop her, though it might finish me totally! [We need this video. I’m fulfilling fans’ racking-me requests.]
Pete shakes his head to agree. I shouldn’t stop yet. Turns his cam so my pussy is zoomed-in on. It’s open and you see my asshole too. [It’s awful, I can’t bear these gross shots, but my fans love them.]
“Go on hit me more, that light flogger is only stinging a bit, it takes at least twenty to feel it.” I do feel every stroke though and when Susie moves up to my tits, it’s even worse. Rocks me to my core…
Pete levers more, tightening my chains so my belly flattens, next it’s concave. I see my arms are tightly muscled. I never knew I have bicep-tendons, but now my arms hurt, my shoulders worse, my knees, ankles, calves. All hotly complain at me. Only the whip-stings distracts from my pains and aches.
“I can’t flog you any more!” Susie cries, drops her light flogger heavily between my legs. That handle whacks!
“Owww!” Imagine pink traces all over my body…It’s a good thing she’s stopping. Went too far entirely. My pussy, asshole. Red, angry. My nipples numb awhile ago; my wide aureoles throb hellish!
Pete releases my shackles; I rise. Hurt I bring Susie to our pulley. Kiss her quick. We attach her arms as my tits complain. Cams adjusted. She’s raised screams, “Please don’t wax me I give up my fee!”
Cheapskate Pete looks at me tempted, but I shake my head: Susie must be repaid for my hurt! We raise her screaming, “No, Babsie! Pete, please! I can’t take it!” I arm-wrap her, still her kicking legs.
“It’ll be all over in a few minutes.” I kiss her head-waving, pleading masked-face. We hoist her above a steaming yellow-wax vat. Dunk her bottom half, raise her out to loud, incoherent yelling. “Aah! Arghh!” Goes splashing back down fast. I’m operating, sinking Susie myself this time. All of her, to her neat neck? Know sweet Susie-boobs-nipples-armpits-upper chest, suffer terrible burns. I close my eyes.
Pete taps my arm to say, “She’s in up to her neck and boiling her little titties off. Better remove her now.” With Pete instructing, I winch Susie back up and out. Boom her over and move slack-Susie lower: Yellow-coated and hot to the touch. She cannot stand so we lay her on the dungeon floor. I let out her white-blonde hair which is pinned up. It’s long and drags across our not-so-clean stone floor. I peel off her yellow wax with a loud ripping sound. She abrupt-awakens from her fit or whatever it was?
“Babsie, you’re hurting me. I can’t take any more. All over, I’m burnt.” I tell her it will feel better afterwards. Pete and I go ahead. Rip the wax off her tits, belly and pussy. She cries a bit more. We flip her regardless, crushing her little boobs onto the stone floor. I cry too, seeing her white little breasties stick out at her sides horribly-crunched.
Pete says, “We might as well finish.” We peel her round mini-ass cheeks one each. Wax underneath Susie’s pussy is sticking to her sparse, fine, yellow crotch-hair. He yanks it off fast to a big sob from her. [Sob!] Tells her, “That’s the worst of it, Susie.”
Triumphantly ups his hairy wax-glob to her sideways-view, causing intense Susie-wailing. I strip yellow wax down one leg and Pete hauls a long wax strip noisily down on her other svelte, pretty leg. [Ripppp!] He shows me the fine blonde hairs adhering to the wax. “So that’s what is killing Susie…”
We unwax her feet and her toes are the toughest. “My feet! Ooh!” I ignore her. Pull wax out between each toe. We lift and turn her. Pete rips a clot of wax off her bellybutton with a loud tearing sound. “Rip-p!” A long sobbing follows this and her belly is real red and throbbing in and out with her heartbeat. Since she responded so rotten to his last triumph, Pete waves his wax clot at me instead. No fair Susie hairs adhering?
'That’s the worst yet!' I thought she was sobbed-out, but no. We half-carry her; trembling, shaking and vibrating. Up to the kitchen, where I get domestic. Soon we all drink tea and eat donuts. Susie tries her bra, but it doesn’t fit ‘cause she’s swollen and tender. Has to do without her panties too. Weeping some more.
Susie tearfully asks, “How long will I be sore?”
“You’ll feel better tomorrow.” Evasive because who knows that answer? I recommend she ‘ice-herself-down,’ if bruised. Brushing her tears aside, I say we’ll sell both her pants and bra for good money. She’ll be paid some more later. I pay her half what I left out last night. I snatch that little pink bra out of her hands and her pink satiny panties, out of her wet hands as Susie blinks, sniveling at me. Give Pete them.
He shoves her undies in a brown grocery bag, writes on it: “Susie’s first time,” today’s date. I don my diaphanous black blouse. Standing, wrap my skirt around. I look all right in the mirror. Susie’s a real wreck! It’s her makeup!
“Is that all?” [Says, at money.] Mascara and light-blue eye-shadow running, Susie is disappointed and looks bad, so I slide across toward her, another two bills. Why not?
Pete puts his hand on them, stops me. “Only if Susie’ll agree to show her face in the bed scene. After all, I must pay twice to replace our bed boards.” Susie says that extra might make up for it, but would I try to cut her face out of our first love scenes?
Going over to his machines area, Susie barely walks and winces the whole way, sniffling. We look at our rushes. A prettier, fresh-Susie is shown only in profile, as she eats me thoroughly. If you knew her, you’d recognize her cute face…And be real surprised, I bet! Her unusual white-blond hair...
Pete says he’ll move a swatch of that white hair in the way in the two scenes. He pictorially saves shots of her long blonde hair, loose at the end of the waxing, when she lay on the stone dungeon floor. Clicks, whirls and drags his mouse. Drapes her white hair artistically [?] over her face in the two shots, which only about fits? “It’ll match your face a lot better when my exact video-cutting finishes.”
‘OK, if you can cover my face where it shows.” Standing at his shoulder, she leans on me a little. Susie is a good girl. From my own experience, I know she feels worse for wear. I flip back to our big scene. Most of the rest of unmasked-Susie is below my head and invisibly back in the dark. Hardly see her face at all. We return from computer. I shove another hundred on her pile. We save a bundle from my estimate. So why not, if it makes little Susie happy? Susie grins through her tears, accepts our bonus-dough. Pete exits.
I wrap her in my arms, don’t squeeze; I know she’s real tender. I kiss her. We explore gingerly; hugs, hugs, hugs. We’re so tight-fitting close. We’re practically one and the same! Susie’s white skin, that nice face. I lick and kiss her more. Soft, smooth, salty. Could get accustomed to loving her? Sore now myself, I’ll feel better tomorrow. Moistening a pinky, rub Susie’s makeup-remnants loose, bits flake and fall off. An improvement? Ask: Will she consider an encore? I know the show we completed will wow our audience. How about a blow job for our guy? And she’ll let Pete have her? Susie’ll do anything!
End of part 1
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