Merry Christmas, Bitch!
By Ladyvet
October 17: Katherine and Carl Brewer stared silently at the fading reflection of skeletal
trees in the lake. Winter would come early. The foliage had flared briefly then fallen sud-
denly in brown heaps and waves. Mountain air cooled quickly after sunset. The frigid si-
lence between them chilled her soul.
Silence formed a deepening chasm between them. She was too drained to speak. Telling
him about her affair had taken every ounce of courage and energy. The baby kicked.
Katherine put her hands gently on her stomach to better feel the life within her.
Carl got up, went into the house and came back with a large manila envelope, which he
dropped in her lap. She knew without looking inside that it contained pictures of her with
her lover. She handed it back to him without speaking. He opened it, withdrew a stack of
large, glossy surveillance photos and looked at them in the gathering gloom. He broke the
tense silence with the question she'd dreaded.
"Is it mine?"
She mumbled that she thought so. It would have been nice to have finally conceived with
her husband after eight years of marriage but she couldn't be sure the baby wasn't Paul's.
"Do you want a divorce? Do you love him enough to give up the baby?"
Katherine had heard those terrible questions in her mind every time she'd mentally re-
hearsed the sad confrontation. She couldn't fight his wealth and political power. He'd pub-
licize the sordid details of her affair and worse, the secret of the drug problem she'd val-
iantly beaten in college. She couldn't face living with what he'd make public about her, nor
could she give up the child she already loved.
"No," she replied softly. "I won't see him again."
Carl's face was devoid of emotion except for the iciness in his eyes. She'd seen that ex-
pression before. He wore it in court before attacking and destroying a witness. She looked
away and asked if he wanted a divorce.
"No. We'll remain married."
She knew he would say that. He wouldn't let her go to the man she loved. Carl couldn't
admit defeat. He got up, walked past her and into the house, leaving her sobbing in the
cold.
November 3: Katherine screamed, gasped and screamed again. The spinal had hardly
begun to take effect before she delivered. Carl stood beside the delivery table, arms
folded, eyes cold above the mask and watched her convulse and scream again as the
baby's head emerged. She reached out to him, clutched his surgical gown, tried to pull
him to her. He pried her fingers loose and moved beyond her grasp to watch her agony
undisturbed. He left without a word as soon as he saw that the baby was perfect.
November 19: Katherine nursed little Stephanie by the warmth of the fire. Her daughter
suckled happily, alternately drinking and softly cooing. Katherine luxuriated in the wet
warmth of her mouth. She loved nursing although it left her restless and excited. Each little
tug on her nipple reminded her of the nights spent with her lover and with her husband,
too. Katherine had fallen out of love with Carl but she still enjoyed their lovemaking im-
mensely even hours after being with Paul. Carl knew exactly what she needed and never
failed to satisfy her.
It had been over two months since she had been with either of them. Her advancing preg-
nancy had done nothing to dull her desire. She felt each tug on her nipple in her womb.
She was amazed when Carl handed her a small, gift wrapped box. He had hardly said a
word to her since the night at the lake. Perhaps he had finally forgiven her. She hoped so.
Paul was out of her life. She was willing to rebuild their marriage if only Carl would open
up to her. He hadn't allowed her into their bedroom suite since their confrontation. It was
Carl, not Paul, who made love to her in her fantasies as she masturbated in her bed in the
nursery. She cried silently after each lonely, unsatisfying orgasm while her daughter slept
nearby.
Katherine thanked him for the gift and asked him whether she had to wait for Christmas to
open it.
"Open it now," he replied. She slipped her nail under the tape and raised it, trying not to
tear the lovely gold foil paper. The ebony box gleamed in the flickering light. Carl stood
quietly, arms folded while she examined the contents. The box contained a gleaming C-
shaped metal object with little notches cut in the ends and another, smaller piece de-
signed to lock into the opening in the "C" and convert it to a circle. It also contained two
surgical steel rods about four inches long with sharp points on each end. Slots were ma-
chined into them near one end. Two slotted disks slightly larger than quarters lay under
them.
She asked him what the metal objects were for. He ignored her, slipped the box into his
pocket and told her to tell the governess they were going out for the evening.
She was surprised and delighted when he added "wear something pretty." He hadn't taken
her anywhere since she admitted to her affair with Paul.
He drove silently, eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, oblivious to her attempts at
conversation. Katherine finally stopped trying to talk to him. She had expected to go to a
play or a nice restaurant. Their destination was an older, seedy section of the inner city.
Boarded up buildings stood like sores among the few still occupied. Carl parked in front of
a decrepit brownstone and escorted her to the door. A gust of icy wind rippled around her
legs. She pulled her mink coat tighter. The door creaked open. A disheveled man greeted
Carl by name. She wondered how her husband knew such an unsavory looking person.
Carl didn't introduce Katherine to him. She looked back at the deserted, debris-strewn
street for a moment before following them inside and down a dark, musty hall. It opened
into a small, brightly-lit chamber furnished like a doctor's examination room. A metal surgi-
cal table took up the middle of the room. Glass fronted medical instrument and supply
cabinets lined the walls. The man closed and locked the door behind them. Her heart
sank. Carl never did anything haphazardly or on the spur of the moment. She knew he
had planned carefully whatever was going to happen. Carl leaned against the door,
glanced at her and nodded to the man.
"She's all yours."
Her heart sank. Carl would have his coldly methodical and carefully crafted revenge.
There was no escape. The man ordered her to remove her clothes. She looked at Carl in
disbelief. Was he going to let this stranger rape her, making her relive the terrible act a
drunken neighbor had inflicted on her when she was still in her teens? She looked at him
imploringly. If Carl's intended to punish he by frightening her out of her wits, he had suc-
ceeded. He could stop now.
Carl said, "Do it, Katherine" in a flat, menacing tone she'd never heard him use before.
She shivered. The room was cold but the knot of fear in her stomach was positively icy.
She took off her coat, laid it carefully on a chair and looked at Carl again, praying silently
for some sign that he'd relent before it was too late. His eyes held no comfort. She re-
moved the soft, clinging dress she had hoped would be lovely enough to entice him. The
man stared, openly appraising her. She looked at Carl again, pleading with her eyes. He
shook his head. She had committed the unpardonable sin. He would give her no mercy.
She turned away from them, unhooked her bra and freed her milk-heavy breasts from the
privacy and support of the lace cups. The air chilled her nipples. They contracted, leaving
tiny blue-white bubbles of milk on their tips. She slipped her matching black panties over
her hips and off. She had pictured herself nude again while dressing for the evening. Nude
after undressing for her husband. Nude under him, making love with him. She stood with-
out clothing before a course stranger instead. She wasn't nude; she was naked.
The man ordered her to get on the table and lie on her back. She sat on the icy metal and
swung her legs up. There was no pillow for her head or padding beneath her. Only the
cold, unyielding surface reflecting her husband's cold, unyielding stare. She lay with her
arms across her breasts and legs pressed tightly together. Carl stood over her while the
man fastened leather straps to her wrists, pulled her arms away from her breasts, over the
sides of the table and fastened them to buckles on its legs. He did the same to her ankles,
splaying her legs uncomfortably. She raised her head and looked down at the thick hair
covering her mons, wishing it could hide and protect her exposed sex. The sharp edges of
the table bit into her calfs and upper arms. She couldn't believe Carl hated her enough to
let this brutish stranger rape her while he watched. She would soon learn that his hatred
was much, much deeper.
The man opened a cabinet, removed a steel surgical instrument tray and placed it beside
her on the table. The cold metal stung her ribs where it touched them. She craned her
neck to look inside. The instruments were sealed in sterile plastic bags. A liquid filled
screw top jar lay among them. He rubbed his hands with an alcohol soaked swab and
pulled on surgical gloves. The pungent odor of alcohol summoned childhood memories of
terrifying doctor's visit and the fear and pain of delivering her daughter. Something good
had come from those experiences. She knew nothing good could come from this one.
They moved to the foot of the bed. The man opened the jar and held it out to Carl, who
emptied the contents of the ebony box into it. He swirled it, making the metal objects clink
against the glass and each other. He put a tray between her widespread knees and emp-
tied the jar into the bottom. She strained as hard as she could to see into the tray. Her
dark, prominent mons hid it from her sight. The men looked into it, oblivious to her des-
perate attempts to see. Pain oozed up into her shoulders and hips from the tension on her
captive limbs. She lay back to keep the table edges from digging in more deeply. Carl
looked into the tray as the man discussed the contents. Katherine's fear swelled to fill her
belly as she listened to their incomprehensible conversation.
"I'll implant the disks in the middle of her breasts through incisions under them. The rods
go straight through the centers of her nipples and lock into the disks. That's a bitch to get
right but it will keep them from coming out."
"Will they show? " Carl asked.
"The disks won't," he replied. "The rods will stick out a half inch or so but that's what you
want, right?" Carl nodded and stared at her breasts while the man continued.
"You might want to wait till the baby's weaned. She won't be able to nurse."
Carl shrugged.
"She won't have to. I hired a wet nurse. She should be with her now."
"You still might want to reconsider. She's got great tits, man. The rods'll keep you from
playing with them or sucking on them. Shit, you won't even be able to hug or her or lie on
top of her." Carl smiled.
"No one's ever going to do any of that again."
Katherine's terror increased as the man stared down at her breasts and licked his lips.
"The rods and disks are damn hard to take out, man. It's real surgery and makes a hell of
a mess! Fucks up the milk ducts, too. They'll probably stay tender indefinitely. You sure
you want me to put them in?"
Carl nodded.
The man shrugged and looked between her legs. Katherine instinctively tried to pull her
knees together. The table bit deeper into her calfs.
"You want me to do her cunt or tits first?"
"I don't care," Carl replied.
Katherine sobbed and pleaded with them to stop. They ignored her.
"OK" he said agreeably. "I'll warm up on her cunt too. That's easier."
Carl asked him to leave them alone for a few minutes. Katherine went limp with relief
when Carl closed the door behind him. The cruel, elaborate hoax was finally over. Carl
walked to the foot of the table. She smiled at him and waited for him to free her ankles. He
rubbed her labia instead. Katherine shook her head and whispered "Please, Carl, not
here. Not like this." He ignored her. His touch was more mechanical than passionate but
he knew precisely what she liked best. He played her body like a violin. He knew how to
call forth every pure note and harmonic. She resonated to his loveless touch. Katherine
closed her eyes and let it happen. He rubbed, teased, tugged, scratched gently, probed
her urethra and G spot, withdrew, repeated, until she was wet and swollen. He parted her
labia and exposed her clit to the cold air. It protruded from its sheath, shiny, purple, en-
gorged to the size of her finger tip. It was too tender to withstand even the gentlest caress
of a finger and ready to trigger her climax as soon as he began to suck it. She tried to tilt
her hips a little despite the pain of the table pressing into her calfs. Katherine closed her
eyes, put the room and the course stranger out of her mind and prepared for the ecstasy
of his mouth.
He unzipped his fly instead, pulled out his cock and rubbed it. Katherine opened her eyes
and watched his hand move up and down on his hardness. She hated herself for needing
him. He climbed on top of her.
"May as well do this once more while I still can," he said and slid into her.
Katherine only had time to whisper "Wait!" before he ejaculated and pulled out of her,
leaving her filled with thick semen. Her unsatisfied desire and the aching void in her body
and heart forced streams of tears to run down her cheeks. She sobbed almost sound-
lessly while he dressed. Carl let the man back in to finish what he had planned. He stood
where Carl had been a minute before and looked down at her oozing, passion-purple la-
bia. A stream of semen and her lubricant ran over her anus.
"Man, she's hot!" the man exclaimed. The man poured purple antiseptic over her labia. It
pooled under her and ran over the edges of the table onto the floor. Katherine squeezed
her eyes shut and tried to blank her mind. The man spread her wide with his fingers and
touched her clit.
"What about this?" he asked. "No extra charge to take care of it."
"Do it," Carl replied. "She isn't going to need it any more."
Katherine shrieked in panic. Carl slapped her twice. She hardly felt the pain through her
fear but she felt the indescribable agony of the scalpel slashing open her clit sheath and
cutting away the nerve-filled center of her sexuality. The pain was so searing and intense
it almost made her vomit. It was over in less than a minute but it seemed like eternity be-
fore the incredibly sharp pain subsided into a burning, throbbing knot. He sutured her
empty sheath. She struggled to bring her legs together. The table bruised them. The
straps refused to yield even an inch.
The man asked: "You want her infibulated as well as ringed, don't you? That will keep her
from putting a cock or anything else in there."
Carl replied "Yes, do whatever it takes to make sure she's permanently celibate."
The man seized her left inner labia, stretched it and sliced it off even with her body. Fiery
pain slashed into her. She screamed "My God! My God! No!" and renewed her struggles
to escape.
He did the same with her right inner labia, then sutured the raw edges together, leaving
her only a half-inch opening through which to urinate and menstruate. He clamped her
right outer labia, stretched it painfully outward and pierced her with a thick, hollow needle.
Renewed panic surged through her. She cried and pleaded helplessly with them to stop
mutilating her. They ignored her desperate screams and struggles.
He stretched her other labia. The same terrible burning pain suffused it. He forced the
thick, C-shaped piece of metal into the first piercing, stretching the hole painfully. She
watched them stare intently at her body while he did things she couldn't see, only feel. He
used a large pair of pliers to do something else. More tugging and stretching. She craned
her neck. All she could see was his hands on the tool as he worked.
"Damn ring's slippery. I always have a hard time closing these thick ones." She endured
several minutes of pulling and stretching, then she heard a little click. The man straight-
ened up and smiled. Carl smiled, too. The pain subsided, replaced by a dull ache and
strange sensation of weight. They moved to the sides of the table. The man stared down
at her soft, vulnerable, milk heavy breasts. He took one in his hands and looked at Carl.
Carl shrugged. He pressed down hard at the top curve, slid his hands toward her nipple
and squeezed hard behind it. Katherine watched jets of milk that should have trickled into
Stephanie's mouth or Carl's spray into the empty air. The man smiled, repeated the ma-
neuver and exclaimed "great tits!" He milked her other breast several time, expelling more
thin, blueish milk, then he poured the rest of the icy antiseptic over her breasts.
He placed a clamp on her areola beside her right nipple and squeezed it until it locked
deep in her dark, tender flesh. A little stream of milk ran out over the jaws. He stretched
her breast upward. She tried to raise her shoulder to ease the pain but the restraints held
her flat against the table. He asked Carl to hold the clamp that bit more and more sharply
into her tender tissue. Carl grasped it and looked impassively into her fear-wide eyes. The
man placed the tip of a scalpel against the underside of her breast and cut it open. Kath-
erine grayed out. The room grew dark, their voices, distant. She was barely conscious
while the man continued to mutilate her breast.
He locked a clamp on one of the disks and thrust it inside her breast. He forced one of the
rods through the center of her nipple and deep into her breast until it touched the disk. He
maneuvered the disk until it slipped into a slot on the rod and locked. He removed the
clamps and sutured the incision. The pain dulled slightly until he put both hands around
her breast and squeezed it.
Katherine came to, opened her eyes and stared at her bulging breast. A stream of red-
tinged milk oozed out around the rod. She lost consciousness.
She came to an hour later, still lying on the table but no longer restrained. The back of her
throat was sore. Something salty and sticky coated the inside of her mouth and lips. She
touched a fingertip to her lips and looked at it. Carl seldom ejaculated more than once a
day. She vomited when she thought about the other man's penis being in her unconscious
mouth.
December 25, 7:30 p.m.: Katherine lay in the tub, up to her neck in hot, soothing water.
She looked down at her breasts and studied the pointed rods protruding from the centers
of her nipples. She hated the firm mounds of flesh that had always been such a source of
pride and pleasure for her. She'd been unable to bind them to stop her milk, so her heavy
breasts had ached for weeks with milk she could neither give her daughter nor express
herself. It had leaked, little by little, pink with blood from the deep inside her breasts. The
pain was bearable after a week if she didn't touch her breasts or wear anything tight over
them. Having to deny little Stephanie her breasts had been worse than the pain. Feeding
her daughter with her own body had made her feel complete as a woman. She also ad-
mitted but only to herself, that it had been a marvelously erotic experience.
She let the soothing water caress her breasts and still-tender labia as her lover and hus-
band had once done. Her fingers wandered to her bath oil-slick mons. She closed her
eyes, raised her hips and rubbed the place where her clitoris should have been. Despite
his appearance and manners, the doctor had been skillful. Hardly a single clitoral nerve
remained. It was almost completely numb. She probed her swollen, aching labia around
the thick ring and rubbed the raised scar where her inner labia should have been. Her en-
gorged G-spot ached to be rubbed. Her sealed labia made it impossible. The unyielding
scar tissue made her opening so small she could hardly fit the tip of her little finger inside
herself. Urinating took several minutes. Her period was a nightmare of painful cramps and
clotting.
She climbed out of the tub and stared at herself in the steamy bathroom mirror. The swel-
ling and bruising on her breasts, around the rods and labial ring had subsided somewhat
The incisions under her breasts were nearly healed, leaving no trace of the disks. The
rods protruding from the centers of her nipples looked like bizarre metal extensions of
them. The cool air made her nipples contract around the metal, hugging the rods tighter.
They felt like they were getting thicker. Her nipples tingled. She massaged them gently
until they softened.
She dried her breasts carefully, avoiding her nipples. Katherine put one foot on the com-
mode seat and used a hand mirror to study herself. The place where her vaginal opening
had been was a shiny, bright pink scar with a tiny slit under her urethral opening. The thick
ring half buried in her tender flesh no longer ached very much but it was always there, re-
minding her of its presence by its weight and the way it forced her to settle carefully onto
chairs.
She locked the bathroom door, sat on the rug with her back against the tub and pushed
her toothbrush handle against her tiny opening. She was wet. The thin, smooth plastic
object went in easily despite the tightness of her slit. She tried for several minutes to gen-
erate some remarkable feeling. She poked at the little hole until she could wait no longer
for satisfaction. She slid the brush in almost all the way to the bristles. She positioned it so
it pressed against her G-spot, pressed her free hand hard just above her mons and moved
the brush handle back and forth, but the feeling was way too weak to make her climax.
Finally, she frustratedly withdrew the brush, rinsed it and wiped herself with a washcloth
while she silently whimpered from the suffering of denial.
She bent at the waist to make her breasts hang free and gingerly put on a padded nursing
bra. The pads should absorb any last traces of milk that might leak and they kept the rods
from penetrating and tearing her blouses.
She put panty liners inside a pair of white cotton panties and slipped into them. She al-
ways used a liner now. She had to. Between the few inevitable drops of urine that leaked
after she got rid of all she could and her own frequent and intense bouts of arousal, her
panties would have been constantly wet.
She dressed to receive their annual Christmas guests. No lovely designer gown for her
this year. There was no way one would look right over her bulky bra. A simple skirt and a
blouse loose enough to rest very lightly on her nipples would have to do. She draped a silk
scarf over the front of the blouse to hide the outlines of the rods and any spots of milk the
pads might not trap. Katherine hoped no one would notice her strange attire. She planned
to explain her dowdy appearance to any inquisitive female guest by saying she was nurs-
ing and disliked the way her nursing bra looked under her clothes. That would suffice for
this year. She wondered what excuse she'd be able to contrive next year.
December 25, 11:30 p.m.: The last guest was finally gone. Carl took her hand, walked her
up the stairs to their suite and opened the door for her. She'd been sleeping in the guest-
room. She was surprised and a little frightened by his sudden interest. Katherine stood
next to the bed while Carl undressed her. He inspected her breasts. He traced the blue
veins radiating from her nipples with a fingertip, then he carefully raised her breasts and
inspected the scars where the disks had been inserted. Satisfied, he pulled carefully on
the rods, as if testing them to satisfy himself that they were a permanent part of her.
"Does this hurt?" he asked softly. "Do you want me to stop?" She shook her head. On the
contrary, his hands felt wonderful. She was becoming excited. Carl had always affected
her that way. His touch turned her on no matter whether she was tired or ill or angry at
him. She licked her lips and took a deep breath.
He pushed her nipples down on the rods, exposing more of the shiny metal, then he
pulled them up along the rods until the points were hidden inside them. He let them go
and watched the glimmering points reappear.
"Jesus, that's sexy!" he exclaimed. She brushed her hand over his fly. He was hard.
She raised up on her tiptoes, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him, being careful
not to let the rods cut him. She wanted to hug him to her, to feel the hardness of the entire
length of his body against hers.
He returned her kiss, moving his fingers between her thighs, rubbing her scars and the
ring.
"Are you still sore or does this feel good?" he asked. She answered by kissing him harder
and moving on his hand. He stopped when her wetness coated his fingers. He looked at
them and exclaimed "you're the hottest bitch I've ever known! I want you in bed! Now!"
Katherine reached for her bra. He took it away from her.
"How can I play with those luscious tits if you put them in that ugly thing?" he asked.
She lay down and locked her fingers behind her neck. She knew he loved the way she
looked in that position; sexy and vulnerable. He toyed with her nipples until they stiffened.
She almost purred with he licked her areolas. She spread her legs.
Carl turned her face gently toward his and kissed her lips. She returned his kiss with
mounting passion. Their lips parted. His tongue found hers. Had he finally forgiven her?
Hope flooded her heart. He might allow her to have the torturing metal removed from her
body if he forgave her. He might even allow her to have surgery that might enable her to
make love although she feared she'd never be able to have another climax that way.
Carl whispered "do you want me?" against her lips. She slid her hand down his body and
wrapped her fingers around his hardness. His fingers glided over her captive sex,
spreading her wetness over her scars and the ring.
"More than you want Paul?" She stiffened at the sound of her lover's name. She hadn't
seen him since Carl confronted about her affair.
"Yes," she replied. "I'm so sorry I was unfaithful to you. I swear it will never happen again."
She stroked him, wanting him to concentrate on the pleasure of her fingers and the prom-
ise of more from her mouth and the tight brown opening he had never penetrated.
He slapped her hard between her legs, pushed her hand away and snarled "don't ever
touch me there again, you slut!" He took a length of rope from the nightstand and tied her
wrists to the headboard. He lay down on top of her in a push-up position with his erection
pressing against her closed vagina. Her breasts had tended to flatten out when she lay
with her arms above her head. Now the rods made them strangely conical. He put his fin-
gers on either side of her nipple and pushed it down until the rod protruded nearly two
inches. He did the same to her other breast. The rods remained exposed.
"Look at your tits, bitch!" He exclaimed. "They won't attract any lovers now, will they? In
fact, they're not good for anything at all. I'd have them cut off if it weren't for the fact that I
want you live with them every day and night as a reminder of what a slut you are!"
Katherine sobbed and closed her eyes. He put his lips on hers and kissed her hard, forc-
ing his tongue into her mouth. He pressed his hardness against her mons and moved
rhythmically against it until he grunted and pumped a torrent of hot, thick semen against
her belly. He gathered it in his hand, smeared it on her face and whispered "Merry Christ-
mas, bitch!"
