Stacy and the Wired Devices

...continued from ch 01 "Stacy"...

Bastard! You fucker! You rotten, stinking son of a bitch! Stacy's brain screamed it again and again but of course she didn't say anything out loud. There were two reasons for that.

The first was that he'd told her not to and -- as much as she hated what he was doing -- she was as committed to the game as he.

The second was the very practical fact that her mouth was full of a nasty tasting, horrible mush which would drip down her chin if she opened her lips. Jerry had given her two of the liver-chicken flavored dog treats in the elevator on the way down from their room and told her to chew but not to swallow. That was just over fifteen minutes ago. She'd ground it to a paste in the first few minutes, expecting him to make her spit it out as he'd done before but she was wrong. As they'd walked from the elevator, through the lobby and out the front door of the hotel, Stacy kept waiting, kept staring at the bag in his hand. He'd scooped the first few mouthfuls out of the doggie dish and into a plastic quart container with a twist-off lid. The container was in the bag, but he gave no sign he was about to take it out.

Stacy jerked to a stop and bent slightly at the waist, squeezed her eyes shut tight. A bit of the mush had slid to the back of her throat and made her gag.

"Don't you dare," Jerry said quietly.

Stacy coughed, closed-mouth, and a blew a bubble out of her left nostril. With a grin, Jerry reached out and popped it with a fingertip. Stacy felt the spray against her cheek and upper lip and gagged again.

"Turns you on, doesn't it?" he asked. Stacy didn't answer but felt the nipple device start closing and opening slowly, just barely moving. She looked and saw Jerry's hand in his pocket. It moved again and she felt the neoprene-covered probe in her ass start to rotate. Her knees turned to jelly and she squeezed her legs together.

"Keep walking, puppy," Jerry said. He started down the street again and Stacy started walking, slow and stiff, trying to concentrate on not gagging on the mush while her nipples and cunt screamed for her attention. She locked her eyes on the back of his head, trying to ignore the device that as squirming away deep in her ass and the constant squeeze-release-squeeze-release of the clamps at her nipples.

A pair of elderly gentlemen were walking a few steps behind her and she could hear them talking. One of them was concerned about the way she'd stopped, stood frozen, then started walking again but with such a herky-jerky motion. The other wondered if she'd had an episode of some sort. She heard them speeding up slightly, getting closer.

Jerry must have heard it too because he turned his head and looked for just a second. She felt current then down the backs of both legs and knew he'd activated one of the TENS units. Her leg muscles tightened and her walk became even more mechanical, like the Frankenstein monster or a movie zombie. The nipple squeezers stopped and the thing in her ass slowed down its twirling. He was playing with his puppet. Stacy felt nervous, knew this was only the start, wondered what he had in mind.

"Are you all right, dear?" one of the old men asked. Stacy looked to her left, he was standing just beside her. The other man had come up on her right, standing at her elbow.

She stared at him, eyes wide, anxious and afraid. She couldn't open her mouth without spitting out the mush but she couldn't stay silent either without him getting more concerned.

The man at her right reached for her arm, held it elbow and wrist. "You look so pale, dear. Is everything all right?"

Stacy kept walking, trying her hardest to smooth out the movements of her now-stiff legs, the muscles clenched tightly by the current Jerry was sending. She looked at the man to her left, eyes big and pleading, trying to signal that she was all right, but he only became more concerned.

"Can you speak? Did something happen?" he asked, leaning closer as they walked.

"mmm...k" she tried to make the 'k' sound with her nose but only succeeded in making a small trail of brownish liquid appear and drip down onto her upper lip.

"Oh, my," the man said, stopping her in her tracks. He leaned close and looked at it. Stacy felt her shoulders slump and her body start to hunch over, humiliated and scared. The man touched the spot with his finger, then sniffed it.

"Liver?"

He looked at his companion and offered him the fingertip. Stacy hung her head lower as the other man sniffed. The current was making her legs weak now and she wanted to drop to the ground. It took all of her concentration to stand still and not collapse.

"Yes. Liver. And chicken." The man snapped his fingers and pointed at his friend. "Like those biscuits you give ManOWar." He sniffed his finger again and nodded. "Yes, like those biscuits."

Stacy was crying now, eyes watering and shoulders shaking. She felt the current shut down and nearly fell over. She was relieved for a second and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Then, the vibrator in the panties came alive. The men must have heard it because they looked at each other, then at Stacy. She felt their gaze on her like two pairs of hands. They looked into her eyes, then down and up her body, then back again to her eyes. She turned her head but found herself staring at one or the other of them no matter what she did. She was naked in their stare, she might as well have been onstage or in bed, with her legs spread and a vibrator in her hands, as on a public street in the late afternoon.

"Why are you eating dog biscuits?" one of the men asked calmly. The other man leaned in closer and repeated it. "Why are you eating dog biscuits?"

Stacy felt the vibrator shift to pulse and gave up hope. She began moaning and grinding her hips, nostrils flaring and shoulders tensing as she gulped down air, anticipating the orgasm that was on its way. She stumbled sideways, then backward until her back was pressed against the brick wall of a flower shop. The men stayed in their places on the sidewalk, watching her, more amused than aroused. Stacy felt that and it pushed her even deeper into her humiliation -- they didn't want to fuck her, they just wanted her to put on a show for them.

She looked up and down the block, Jerry was nowhere to be seen. She needed him to turn it up, or turn on one of the other devices, maybe one of the ones up inside her belly or ass, maybe the TENS across her abdomen, but something. She needed *something* to get her over. She rubbed her shoulders against the brick, hoping for some scratching or scraping to arouse her flesh but it wasn't enough.

Several people walked by, most ignored her, one grunted something and two of them stopped to watch. The men nudged them, whispered something, and moved in closer. Stacy felt passed around, she was their own private whore and they were sharing her with the others. She imagined the four of them taking her to a room somewhere, a cellar behind the flower shop with a dirty mattress and passing her around, one after the other, pinching and spanking and fucking her while...

"nnnnhhhh!!!" she groaned through tight lips. Jerry had turned everything off, leaving her standing with her legs open, knees bent, half curled against the brick wall, sweating and smelling of arousal.

From a few stores down, Jerry stepped out of the doorway. He whistled and called, "here, girl! C'mon!" and slapped his leg. Stacy hung her head and ran quickly to him.

---

Between the flower shop and the restaurant, Jerry had Stacy chew up and spit out eight more of the doggie treats. He would back her into a doorway or the space between two buildings, unscrew the top of the quart container, let her empty her mouth, then immediately replace the muck with two fresh biscuits.

Along the way, he edged her four more times, making sure each time that she had an audience. The first was a man in his late 40's, business-suit and expensive leather shoes, who Jerry noticed staring at her as he approached from the other direction. He stopped the man to ask him the time and watched him stare at Stacy as she walked past.

"She's a pro, you know," Jerry said.

"Who?"

Jerry laughed, "Come on, mate, I saw you looking." They both laughed and the man asked, "really?" Jerry nodded and jerked his thumb toward Stacy.

The man turned and followed her, trying to start up a conversation and getting more and more angry as she refused to answer. Stacy, for her part, kept her head down and kept shuffling forward, crunching at the remaining solid chunks of biscuit. After a few minutes of that, Jerry started manipulating the remote control again. Stacy went wobbly at the knees and the man caught her. Jerry turned on the vibrator and both of the rotators inside her and she clutched the man tight, coming to a quick orgasm pressed against his chest. She squirted a tiny bit of the brown liquid between her lips and onto his white shirt.

"Fuck!" he yelled, pushing her back. She fell on the sidewalk, the skirt flying up around her knees. He could see parts of the devices strapped to the insides of her legs and swore again, then took off quickly down the street. Stacy looked up and down the block urgently, terrified someone else might have seen her but nobody noticed.

The second time was for a group of four college-aged lads. Jerry noticed them following a few yards behind her, nudging each other, whispering and laughing. He circled around behind them and brought Stacy to a stop three times with the leg TENS. Each time, the young men stopped as well, watching. Jerry turned on the nipple pinchers and the vibrator, letting them run their course until he saw she was near cumming, then cutting them both off abruptly. Each time, she grunted her anger and started walking again. After the third time, Jerry came up behind the group and told them quietly, "show's over boys, move it along." The group turned at the next corner, still laughing and chatting.

The third time was for Jerry. He walked Stacy down an alleyway between two buildings and told her to stand with her arms at her sides. Stacy was afraid and anxious, wondered what he wanted here that he couldn't get on the streets. She was dizzy from arousal and walking, her legs were sore now from the constant clenching and releasing but her nipples and crotch were on edge, waiting for Jerry to deliver the touch that would put her over the edge.

He opened the container again and she spit out the mouthful of chewed biscuit. This time, he didn't give her more biscuits, but gave her a damp-wipe to clean her face. She wiped her forehead, cheeks, lips, enjoying the cool feel of the alcohol on her skin. She ran her tongue over her teeth, felt the gritty coating, felt the deposits at the gumline, gagged. She turned her head and spit. Jerry smiled. She spit again.

"What do doggies do in the alley?"

Stacy froze, eyes wide, staring at him. Thoughts ran through her head in quick succession - all of them were insane. They sniffed for scraps. They dug in trash cans. They chased rats. They pissed and shit. They pissed and shit. Stacy shook her head slowly, raised her hands.

"Jerr...ah!" he held the shock collar button a full five seconds. Stacy dropped her head and raised her eyes. "Woof...w..." she started sobbing, pressed her hands against her face. Jerry turned on the vibrator and Stacy opened her legs, pushed her hips forward and started barking. She barked louder and faster as he turned the speed from slow to fast to slow to fast. Stacy dropped to her knees and put her hands on the ground in front of her, palms splashing in a thin stream of dirty water. She felt something wet and sticky soaking through the dress and stockings and onto her knees but kept her head up, her ass humping the air. Her barks turned to grunts then to a howl. Jerry patted her hair and she turned her head sideways, licking at his hand. The two howls died off and turned to moans and whimpers as he turned the vibrator to its highest setting. She was bucking and humping, opening her knees wider, splashing her hands in the water when he clicked the thing off.

"Fuc...! Ah!" she jerked as he shot another jolt through the obedience collar.

"Bad girl. Bad girl." Jerry walked away, waited at the mouth of the alley for her to get up and follow him.

They were just a few doors from the restaurant when Jerry edged her for the last time. She'd been following a few yards behind, as she had all afternoon, and he'd stopped. He turned and looked at her, shook his head slowly.

Stacy knew what she looked like. Her hair was tangled and matted, she'd been sweating on and off since he started his games back in the hotel room. Her jaws were sore from chewing, her cheeks and throat tired from holding in the muck without retching. The front of her dress was dirty and wet from where she'd been kneeling in the alley and her hands were crusty with whatever had been in the water. Her stockings were ripped and her shoes muddy and scuffed. Even her blouse was twisted and showed sweat marks underneath her arms. She smelled of her sex. Not much but enough to notice.

She wanted to call it off, wanted to tell him to let her go home and clean up, wanted to see some sign of softness in his eyes, some slipping of control. But that wasn't what she saw at all. What she saw was a mind at work calculating how to take her deeper into her own submission without having to make too much of an effort himself. He was masterful at it and she wanted more and more.

They were standing in front of a clothing store, an upscale boutique with bright coloured dresses and suits surrounded by heavy-leather accessories. Cars were parked up and down both sides of the street, meters stuffed and clicking. Ahead of them, on the sidewalk, was a couple in their forties or so. Behind them, a group of six or seven twenty-something girls looking rich and bored, carrying bags from the more expensive stores a block or two over. At the rate they were walking, the girls would pass them several minutes before the couple.

"Strip," Jerry said casually.

Stacy stared at him, unmoving.

"Strip," Jerry repeated. Stacy just stood there looking at him, arms at her sides, feet together. Jerry took the pen and pad out of his pocket and opened it. On the same page he'd written on at the airport, he wrote "2 - strip". He put it back in his pocket and tapped his foot on the sidewalk.

"Sit, girl." Stacy tilted her head and turned to look at the girls walking toward them. Two of them made eye contact, smiled and looked away.

"Sit," Jerry said. This time, he clicked the collar and Stacy sucked in a sharp breath. She slowly went to her knees, settled back on her heels and put her hands on her legs. The girls were a dozen or so yards away now.

"Bad doggie," Jerry said quietly.

Stacy felt the jolt. Stacy began to move her legs. The girls stopped and watched, poking each other and giggling. Jerry held the button down the whole time. Stacy adjusted herself until she was sitting like a dog, crouched with knees open wide and arms between them, palms on the ground in front of her. She hung her head down, avoiding any eye contact with the shoppers.

"Good puppy," he said loud enough for them to hear. He looked at the closest one. "Would you like to give her a treat?"

The girl laughed and shook her head but her friends nudged her forward. She was tall and thin, a pre-fab California girl with long blond hair, silicon boobs and long, thin, tanned legs. She was wearing a toga-dress, short and white and barely coming down below her ass. Expensive gold jewelry accented her neck, wrists, upper arms, and ankles.

Jerry took her hand and walked her around Stacy once slowly, commenting on her training and the exactness of position. "See how her toes point? She worked on that for months. And the exact point of her fingertips?" It was all invented, Stacy and Jerry knew, but it served its purpose. The blond's amusement and scorn toward Stacy grew and grew with each word of Jerry's. Jerry lifted Stacy's head and pulled back her upper lip. "See her teeth? I have them cleaned twice a month." He let the lip drop back into place. "I have a professional come in. She worms her and does her nails and teeth." He patted Stacy's head. "You can come and watch sometime if you like."

Jerry handed the girl one of the liver biscuits. "Hold that out just in front of her nose and watch her sniff for it." The blond took it gingerly between a thumb and one finger and held it a few inches from Stacy's face.

Stacy was shrinking smaller and smaller, her humiliation in front of this sexy, empty-headed nobody was horrific. Jerry was showing her off to the blond as a pet, as a toy, as something to be examined, poked and prodded. She didn't move as the blond pushed the biscuit closer to her face. Jerry couldn't push her that far.

Then, she felt the neoprene things inside her start moving. Twisting just the slightest bit, just enough to make her notice. He was insidious. She could try to ignore a bigger motion, but this subtle curl was capturing all of her attention. Every bit of her consciousness was focused on those small mechanical things he'd pushed into her. Then, the nipple squeezers started up. Gently. So terribly gently. Just a 1/16th of an inch of pressure. Stacy moaned, opened her legs wider.

"Come on, girl," the blond said, voice dripping with condescension. "Come and get your treat."

Stacy raised her nose and sniffed the biscuit. Immediately, her mind went back to the hotel room and Jerry playing the same game with her. She felt her cunt gush wet. She turned her head and opened her mouth, reached for it.

The blond pulled it back and laughed. "No, no, girl. Not yet." She held it behind her back. "Speak."

Stacy was swimming in wetness now, felt her nipples growing, swelling, cunt opening and body on fire. "Woof! Woof!" she barked loud. She shook her head, her hair flying around her, barking again.

"What the fuck?"

Stacy turned and saw that the older couple who had been walking down the street were watching. The man's wife was staring at Stacy, a big smile on her face. Stacy flushed but felt herself getting wet again. She couldn't tell if the woman's smile was an insult or a compliment. It seemed to say "I know, I know. If he makes you cum, you'll do it. I'd do it."

Her husband was more direct. "Can you take this shit inside? We don't need to be seeing this kind of crap out here while we're going out for a drink!" Jerry pulled the man aside and started walking to him. The woman leaned forward and kissed Stacy gently on the forehead.

As much as the woman seemed to want to be encouraging, it was devastating. Even barking for the blond woman didn't make Stacy feel as used and objectified as this woman's pity. She started to get up but felt the shock collar come alive. She looked and saw that Jerry was watching closely. She leaned forward and licked the woman's hand. Jerry smiled. The woman let her lick her palm for a long time while Jerry talked to her husband.

They finally broke up and the man put his arm around his wife's waist. "Come on," he said and they walked away. Stacy watched them, looked at Jerry, wondered. He just smiled.

"Hey, bitch!"

Stacy turned and saw the blond girl standing, arms crossed, tapping her foot. She looked at Jerry. "Give me that shock collar button," she demanded. Jerry looked at Stacy, then at the woman, then at Stacy again. He stared at her a long time before he slide the control into his pocket.

"Just give her the biscuit, honey," Jerry said to the blond.

She threw it on the ground and marched away, stamping her $1200 dollar shoes down hard with each step. Stacy looked up at Jerry and smiled. Jerry didn't smile back. He pointed the toe of his shoe at the biscuit which had broken into three pieces on the ground.

"Go, on girl. Get it."

...please write me if you like this and want more...