Zippers

PART 29

I snapped myself away from my static, disbelieving stare, hurled the covers from around me and threw myself to the floor. I pressed my head down to her feet and started to lick at her boots with as much speed and fervour as I could manage. I had to use the very tip of my tongue to try to minimise the pain. There was acute swelling around the metal stud that stood proudly in the centre of my delicate organ. It was very difficult and I had to work carefully although not too timidly.

She was wearing a rather strict looking pair of soft black leather boots that ran up to her mid calves. Thin laces ran, criss-crossed, through close, black enamelled eyelets and ended in long bows that hung down six inches from the top of her boots. Her feet were tightly bound by the form-fitting kid leather. Her heels sat atop long black stilettos that didn’t look much shorter than the heels that I was now being forced to wear. It dawned on me that such deadly looking heels could be used to inflict serious pain on an errant slave girl. I gulped at the thought and cursed my imagination for having brought it to mind.

Vivienne remained silent while I vigorously applied myself to cleaning her footwear with my tongue. Not sensing any immediate displeasure from her I inwardly breathed a small sigh of relief but made sure I didn’t betray myself.

As I ran my tongue around the back of her foot, I wondered why a woman who didn’t have to would elect to wear such strict and uncomfortable looking boots. God knows I wished I could have gone back to wearing sensible flats!

‘Enough’, she said emotionlessly, ‘kneel there, slut’

I obeyed her, pressing my face down to the floor in a gesture of complete submission. I had no reservations about behaving this way in front of her by now and knew that it was the best thing that I could do.

She stood up and strolled gently across the room, letting her overcoat fall easily from her shoulders. She took a hanger from the wardrobe and placed the long woollen garment around it. I heard a clattering as she stowed it back inside the wardrobe.

She came back over to the bed, brushed the covers aside and onto the floor and lay herself down on it, rolling over to her side so that she could peer down at me.

‘Sit up, bitch’ she snapped.

I sprang up, kneeling back on my heels, keeping my legs spread apart and thrusting my breasts outwards and upwards towards her. I was a good girl. The gleaming gold loops bounced lightly with the sudden movement before settling proudly against the skin underneath my areoles. The slightest movement reminded me of the nagging ache that had not disappeared since they had been installed earlier in the day.

Slowly, a wicked feline grin started to take hold of her. I shuddered inwardly.

She was wearing heavier make-up than was usual for her. Her brows were sharply lined and her eyes wore a bold purple which radiated outwards, lightening and narrowing to each side. Her long lashes were thickened with the blackest mascara and seemed to blend seamlessly into the thick eyeliner that arced outwards and upwards from the corners of her eyes. She was so beautiful, and so terrifying.

Her hair was pulled back strictly and held by a long black velvety tube into a tall flowing ponytail at the very top of her crown.

‘Expecting your little friend I expect?’, she quizzed me. I wasn’t sure if she wanted an answer or not.

‘Yes, Mistress’

‘Well, I have some bad news for you on that score I’m afraid’, she said in a falsely grave tone, ‘You see, Mistress Trisha has decided that she wants her new bitch to be near her, ready to serve her needs at the click of her fingers.’

‘Or the snap of her whip’, she mouthed slowly, raising her eyebrows in a way that looked half excited and half aggressive.

She grinned widely, exposing her perfect white teeth.

‘She sent me this, here, you must see it’

She beckoned me over as she excitedly pulled out her phone and thumbed her way through the menus.

‘Look’ she said, putting her arm round my head, holding the screen to my face.

She started a video file. I immediately heard a muffled scream. It took a second to make out what it was but then my eyes widened in horror.

Strapped to a short bench, on her back, was a brown skinned girl. Her legs were held widely spread and taut by a thick steel pole. Each end of the pole locked on to a ring mounted in a sturdy looking steel band; one fixed about each of her ankles. The steel bar itself was tied to the feet of the short bench forcing her legs down, back and to each side. Her wrists were similarly encircled and clipped below her sides to the bottom of the bench legs. Her naked sex was pushed up cruelly and deliberately.

Although I couldn’t see her face, there was no mistaking her identity. Her head was obscured by another woman who was naked, facing down the girl’s body, straddling the bench, and the girl’s face. She was driving her crotch down onto her helpless victim’s face; her head back in pleasure; her hands caressing her breasts. Then she lifted her arm up and brought a riding crop down viciously onto the poor girl’s waiting genitals. The girl screamed out another muffled shriek and I yelped, choking back a sob. I pulled my head away as my heart broke for poor Lisa.

‘Delicious’, she purred softly, turning off the phone.

‘Sex’, said Vivienne, very slowly and deliberately, ‘everyone needs it and there’s no avoiding it. Tonight, my little bitch, it’s me that needs it, and you that won’t be avoiding it’

‘Now that that little slut Lisa is finally getting her just desserts and subject to the demands of a real woman, she won’t be pampering you with her mouth anymore. In fact, Anita, you won’t be seeing her at all any more.’

I felt a heavy tug at my heart, I wouldn’t have my friend any more. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes. I hated Vivienne and Trisha so much.

‘Your man-pleasing will have to take a slight back seat while we wait for those piercings to toughen up, but don’t worry, we’ll get you back at it soon enough. In the meantime, just think of all the ways that you can tease, and please, a man’s cock with that big smooth tongue stud. Lots of lovely new tricks for you to learn!’

She stroked the side of my head. I wanted to tear it away from her and scream at her, to tell her to fuck off! My eyes widened as I hoped that she hadn’t sensed what I was thinking in some way. My anger turned again to fear.

‘Now’, her eyes narrowed slightly, ‘There’s only so much of that kind of thing that I can watch and , besides, one of my sluts was freshly pierced today which turned me on no end. I have to say that I am horny, bitch’

She stood up quickly and walked out of the bedroom. She quickly returned with a large black leather case, which she set down on the chair. With sideways movements of both thumbs, she sprang the fastenings up and lifted the top. I could see a few things slotted into retainers in the lid of the case but the main contents of the box were hidden from me.

She walked out again. I started to choke up with fear, I had no idea what to expect as I had never seen this side of Vivienne before.

I heard her in the kitchen, moving something, and then starting the microwave.

She strutted excitedly back in.

‘Now. Let’s get you prepared’

At this point, I was almost sobbing freely but knew better than to try and beg my Mistress for any mercy. She beckoned me to my feet and I stood up onto tiptoes. She twirled me so that I was facing away from the case.

‘You’d better put on those trashy white whore-shoes that you love so much’

‘Yes Mistress’, I quickly bent over and put the shoes on. I stood back up, slightly taller on my killer heels.

I heard the squidging and hissing of air and jelly being blown from a squeezy bottle. I shook with more sobs, trying my best to stay quiet and to not annoy my Mistress.

She stepped around in front of me holding a serious looking metal and leather contraption. It was like a wide, curved metal pad set in the middle of a thick, tough looking black leather band. I saw that the metal surface had blobs and thick worms of clear gel heaped upon it and Vivienne was holding that side upwards so that it didn’t slide off.

She  knelt down in front of me and I gasped and shook involuntarily, rapidly checking myself as  she pressed the cold metal and icy gel up against my waist. I wanted to bring my hands down and pull her away but I held them, submissively, away at each side, allowing her to do with me as she pleased. She wound the six inch thick belt round either side of my waist and I felt her threading one side of the large central strap into a chunky steel buckle that was bolted into the other side. She stood up and stepped behind me and then wrenched tightly on the strap, tightening it suddenly and strongly.

‘Breathe out Anita’, she said.

My belly pulsed and the tears dripped from my eyes as I tried to control my breathing and breathe out as far as I could.

‘Good, now hold there’

I felt her knee against my back as the belt tightened even more. She had obviously pulled it to the next hole as when she let go, the impossibly tight constriction remained completely. I had to fight to breathe and all the movement had to come from my chest. My belly was held strictly at its most narrow radius and there was no room there for air. My breasts were thrust out and rose and fell with each quick and desperate little breath.

I felt her fiddling at the belt again; she was threading two more, smaller straps into their waiting buckles. These were inch thick straps above and below the main buckle. In a moment, she had tightened these similarly and they spread the feeling of uncompromising constriction up and down the full length of the belt.

She stood in front of me, breathing more rapidly herself, she looked as if seeing me struggle to breathe and weeping with fear was exciting her.

She took another strap from the case and clipped it on to the front of my belt, in the midline. It hung down almost to my knees. I could see a little metal nubbin sticking forwards from the front of the belt and on each side stout metal D rings protruded through flaps in the belt.

The microwave pinged.

‘Hold your arms out in front of you’

I held them up. She took a pair of shiny steel and rubber lined cuffs and snapped them first on one wrist and then the other. As she squeezed them closed, they made an ominous click and then wouldn’t open again. Each cuff had a clip dangling from it.

She walked behind me and jerked each arm down to my waist, clipping the cuff to the waiting D ring at my belt. I tugged quickly on each arm, testing the bondage; there was no way at all that they were going to come loose.

‘Bend over the bed with your legs wide’

I swifty knelt and threw myself across the bed, spreading my legs, exposing my anus to her. I heard another spludge of lubricant and then she knelt down behind me.

I yelped as the cool jelly touched my ass. I quivered hysterically, trying to behave myself as I then felt a firm round dildo at my rear passage. I gasped to find my breath from the cruel constriction, trying madly to draw away from the dildo, pulling at my wrist cuffs. I was caught at the edge of the bed and there was nowhere to escape to. I felt her advance it further and it started to enter my virgin, pink-bleached ass. I gripped my hands tightly as the full girth slid through my anal sphincter.

‘Please Mistress!’ I sobbed.

She just carried on pushing it inside me.

I didn’t realise how sensitive my rear hole was until it was penetrated and held open, against its will by the slippery intruder. I heard a little squish of air and felt the plug suddenly expand within me.

‘Aaah!!’ I cried out aghast in shrill surprise.

Vivienne was standing again, I tried to squeeze the thing out of myself but it wasn’t budging at all. There was a resilient plug seated firmly in my most private opening. I felt my sphincter spasm and contract against it, its presence was quite uncompromising and very disturbing. I wanted to beg to her so badly but knew that I had to endure whatever torments she had in store for me. That thought sent me weeping uncontrollably as I contracted against the new intruder in by backside.

‘Now, lean further upwards, bend your pussy up to me and spread your legs wider’

As I moved, I felt the little inflation bladder of my plug swing against my inner thigh, like a new and unwelcome tail.

‘You’ll need to relax for this next one Anita, it’s quite…….large’, she said, sniggering slightly.

I clenched my fists and tried to distract myself from reality with raw pain.

Without warning, I felt it at the lips of my gaping sex. It didn’t feel smooth, in fact in felt nobbly and hard. At least it was covered in more of the lubricating gel. I screamed aloud as she unceremoniously advanced it into me. It was too wide, far too wide, too hard and it felt awful. I retched with distress as it advanced with dreadful deliberation towards my core, stretching and scraping at the walls of my tunnel. I screamed again as I felt her turn it, it felt like the bobbles on the top were grinding deeply inside. The horrible rotation was a terrible, invasive experience. It was all I could do to keep from screaming the house down.

‘Oh my God! Please stop Mistress!’ I begged through my tears.

‘When we took your womb, we left the cervix behind. It gives a much more natural feel for a gentleman when you’re entertaining him there. It’s also keeps the top of your vagina much more sensitive, as I think you’ve just appreciated.’

I wept loudly and unreservedly, lying over the bed, completely and utterly filled.

I felt something around my clitoris and then a strange sucking on it.

‘Just give that a few minutes to get the blood into it’ she said.

I felt her pull the dangling strap up between my legs and fasten behind my back to the belt, so that my new intruding fixtures couldn’t be expelled.

She walked round to the other side of the bed and sat down in front of me. I looked up at my blurry, beautiful Mistress. I tried to wipe at my eyes but my arms were pinned to my sides.

‘Corsets compress the large veins in the abdomen’, she smiled at me, ‘they restrict the return of blood and cause the genitals to become engorged. They make a woman much, much more sensitive in her lower areas’

She unbuttoned her suit jacket and I could see the tight, shiny, black boning of a custom made corset. She slung her jacket over the chest and reached behind the small of her back, clipping the button to her skirt free. Standing up and unzipping it, she let that fall, standing before me. Her breasts were compressed upwards, pushed into a full cleavage. As she turned I saw the immaculately tight regular criss-cross of the lacing which pulled her waist in, creating the centre of a narrow hourglass. She had garter belts clipped on to black stockings which flowed down into her high-heeled lace-up boots. She wore a skimpy pair of black lace panties underneath which disappeared between her perfect peach-toned buttocks

‘The belt you are wearing will, of course, have the same effect’

She walked back around behind me.  

‘Now. Time for your clitoral discipline electrode’