PART 9 YVETTE THE DOMINATRIX
Bridgette was allowed to rest for the next seven days after the
construction crew had fucked her for a total of 12 hours. She was
bruised badly on the ass from the seamless stream of slaps from the
frenzied men. Her nipple rings had been tugged repeatedly but they were
intact, although understandably tender.
In her period of convalescence, Jennifer kept Bridgette in a cage. The
space was cramped and the floor was cold, but Bridgette was just
grateful that no one was fucking her or hurting her now. She had a
collar that was chained to an eyebolt in the center of the metal; the
leash was short and her movements were further restricted by the chains
on her nipple rings which also were attached to the center eyebolt.
Jennifer fed her younger sister with the scraps of food that Johnny
collected from restaurant dumpsters. By the time
Bridgette's food tray arrived to the cage, most of the flies were gone,
but all of the incorrigible foul odor remained. Bridgette was in no
position to be choosey, and after the first day of protest---which
prompted Jen to remove the food completely---Bridgette realized that she
would rather eat this garbage than starve.
After Jennifer had noticed this new willingness, almost an eagerness on
Bridgette's part to eat anything, she concocted another vile scheme.
On the seventh day of rest, Jennifer slid the tray onto the cage floor
and told the sleeping Bridgette it was time to eat. Bridgette quickly
shuffled over to the tray, but she was immediately turned back.
"Oh, my God, I can't eat this! Oh, I'm going to be sick!" Bridgette
exclaimed.
"Oh yes you will, my little slut sister. I went to a lot of trouble to
prepare this meal, and you will not insult me by turning it down."
"But, but, Jen, that's, you know, that's po---"
"Shit. It's called shit, sis. And you're going to eat it or eat nothing.
Look, I spread the shit on a dozen saltine crackers almost like on an
appetizer tray."
"No, never. I am not going to eat that," Bridgette insisted, her words
gaining strength.
"Oh, really, well, I thought you might feel that way. Okay, then, if
you won't eat this then we'll have to do it the hard way. JOHNNY!"
Out of the backstage Johnny emerged with a stranger, a beautiful woman
that Bridgette didn't recognize. Her first thought was one of fear. Did
they bring this innocent girl here to torture too?
"Tie her up again, Johnny. If she won't eat her lunch tray, then we'll
just fed her another way. And I've invited a guest to teach you to eat
properly, sis. Meet Yvette. Isn't she just gorgeous?"
Indeed, she was. Originally from France, Yvette was a 20-year-old
exotic dancer with one of the major clubs in Vegas and her specialty
acts including some kinky S&M sets. And if the Vegas tourist asked the
right people and flashed the right amount of cash, he could be treated
to a special girl/girl show with the 36D-25-32 Yvette practicing her
dominatrix art on either the tourist's girlfriend or one of her own club
girlfriends. Yvette wasn't just a club dominatrix; she enjoyed the
lifestyle and actually had trained a couple of 24/7 slaves in Paris and
Vegas.
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Bridgette." Yvette introduced herself, squatting
down to reach eye-level with her new toy. "Aren't you a pretty young
thing. I like those pouty lips. We are going to have so much fun
teaching the supermodel to eat what she's told."
After twenty minutes of getting set up, Yvette and Johnny finally had
poor Bridgette hoisted and ready. Bridgette was hanging naked from the
high ceiling again, her toes just a few inches off the ground. Yvette
had taped Bridgette's mouth completely shut accept for a narrow tube
that was pumping water into her mouth; the water was moving at about 1
ounce per 15 seconds and Bridgette had no choice: she had to drink it or
drown.
Yvette then punctured her asshole with a huge enema nozzle. At its
widest diameter, the nozzle was 2 inches across, and 4 of its 5 inches
were jammed into Bridgette's still sore ass. Yvette was then pumping
what felt like scolding water into Bridgette's bowels. The pain was
tremendous, worse than being fucked, she thought, because the nozzle
allowed the flow only one way. Her bowels were filling up with
painfully hot water and burning her insides and there was no release
possible.
The amount of water that had been pumped via the oral tube was now
reaching 32 ounces, and quickly was at 48 ounces. Johnny and Jennifer
grinned at each other when they saw their victim's stomach begin to
bulge, and her sweating ass start to wiggle at its discomfort.
"Are you beginning to hurt inside, Bridgette?" Yvette asked as though
speaking down to a dog or small child. "Do you want the pain to go away,
my little pouty puppy?"
Unable to speak, Bridgette frantically moved her head up and down in the
affirmative.
"Well, then, you must only agree to one thing: You must agree to eat
your lunch. If you agree now, we can end your suffering, my puppy. Do
you agree?"
Bridgette shook her body, her bowels convulsing horribly, but she would
not shake her head "yes".
"Too bad. Increase the water pump speed, dear Johnny."
As Johnny was doing this, Yvette began to tape a plastic funnel between
Bridgette's thighs and pressed the wide end of the funnel as close to
her pussy lips as possible. On the narrow end of the funnel Yvette had
affixed a second feeding tube. Johnny continued to pump more water into
Bridgette's mouth, even as she swished her head back and forth madly.
"Okay, she's had about 3 liters, now squeeze this tube into her mouth
too."
Yvette handed Johnny the second tube that led from between Bridgette's
thighs and inserted it in the narrow opening of tape that covered her
mouth. For a few minutes more, Bridgette squirmed and wiggled her
sweating body; her bladder began to bulge like she was pregnant, but she
fought off the urge to pee. Yvette got close to her and began to
whisper.
"Give in, Bridgette, just let it go."
Finally, Bridgette was exhausted of the fight and submitted to Yvette's
words.
"Quickly, take out the water tube," Yvette ordered.
Bridgette's body relaxed and piss began to flow freely into the funnel
and into the second tube. Bridgette sensed that the water had stopped
entering her mouth and she breathed in as much air as she could, but the
deep inhalations acted as a syphoning mechanism and suddenly she felt
her own warm piss filling her mouth.
The taste was acrid and disgusting. While the liquid had changed, the
design was the same: drink it or drown. Bridgette held as much as she
could but then she had to swallow. A giant gulp, and then another.
Jennifer watched her sister's throat move with a never-fading smile
wrapped across her face.
More and more piss syphoned up and over Bridgette's pouty lips; she
could not stop the piss from her bladder and she could not stop the piss
coming into her mouth.
In the meantime, Johnny got a little bored and reattached the chains to
Bridgette's nipple rings. He lifted the bucket that was holding the piss
temporarily and clipped the two chains to either end of the bucket. Once
the connection was secure, he let gravity take the bucket to the floor,
and of course, this caused the nipple links to pull at Bridgette's sore
nipples. When the weight of the bucket severely pulled down her nipples,
Bridgette gargled and almost choked on her own incoming piss.
Jennifer looked on as she saw her sister's nipples became seriously
distended toward the stage floor. The weight of the bucket had a
motivating effect on Bridgette; she tried to hold the additional piss
within her bladder and at the same time, she tried to suck up all the
remaining piss inside the bucket, to lighten the overall weight.
Once her bladder dried up, Johnny and Yvette quietly conferred. After
their brief conversation, they decided to restart the whole process,
only this time, the funnel and feeding tube was rearranged to
accommodate Bridgette's full ass. The warm nozzle was released and a
brownish-yellow grotesque mixture of shit and water spewed furiously
first through the funnel and second into the bucket. But of course,
Bridgette's own breathing caused the syphoning to begin again, and
within seconds, the weight pulling her tits was horrendous and the taste
entering her mouth was unimaginable.
Pieces of shit, mixed with the enema water rushed through the tube and
hit Bridgette's tongue. The reaction in her eyes defied description,
although Yvette looked on almost casually, as if she had seen this
reaction many times before.
Bridgette wanted to die. She wanted to spit this horrible shit-laced
mixture into the faces of each of her tormentors, but she was utterly
helpless to their every whim. She was made to endure the shit and water
for about two full minutes. She was ready to cave in. Bridgette decided
then and there that she would agree to anything. She could see no way
out, and in refusing to do as ordered, she only risked greater tortures.
Bridgette's will was nearly dead.
"Well, then, pretty little plaything," Yvette looked her victim up and
down, admiring her slim and defeated figure, "Are you ready to eat your
crackers like a good puppy? Are you ready to eat your shit crackers with
a smile on your little puppy face?"
Bridgette nodded up and down so there was no mistaking her decision. Her
eyes pleaded with Yvette to let her down.
"That's good. But with Mademoiselle's indulgence," Yvette looked to
Jennifer for approval, "I do not think that I am ready to let you eat
your lunch just yet. Monsieur Johnny, let us do it again. We want to
be thorough."
Bridgette shook her head frantically, trying to get some words out,
words that would make them unchain her nipples, words that would
convince them that she would obey now. Her tormentors paid her no
attention. Instead, Yvette readied the bucket under her pussy, and
Johnny attached the water tube inside her taped mouth again. He set the
water pump off again, and the fluid ounces squirmed up and into
Bridgette's helpless mouth.
She had little to no food left in her stomach, so the water made a quick
run through her system, and within a few minutes, Bridgette was pissing
freely again into the funnel, into the bucket, and into her mouth. When
watching this became boring, Jennifer and Johnny came up to the bucket
and relieved their individual piss.
Somehow, this seemed worse to Bridgette. She had almost adjusted to
drinking her own piss, but now she was being forced to drink and swallow
warm, bitter piss from her stepdad and blood sister?!
Then, Yvette alternated to the hot enema water treatment, and this was
followed by more bowel movement into the bucket and into her mouth. Of
course, Johnny and Jennifer had to shit into the bucket as well. The
chunks of shit that weren't soluble, and therefore wouldn't travel
through the feeding tube, were scooped up by Yvette and smeared onto
Bridgette's face and breasts. The smell of the shit on her face was
enough to make Bridgette throw up, but she had to hold it back, because
still more shit and water were coming through the tube. If she vomited
now, she was sure to gag and suffer more. Would they let her die on her
own vomit, Bridgette wondered to herself.
Yvette alternated the piss and shit routine for no less than two hours.
By this time, the piss running through Bridgette was clear and the shit
nonexistent. Jennifer and Johnny had gotten so turned on by this
display that they were having sex on the stage floor about 10 feet away
from the hanging Bridgette.
Yvette lowered the weary, former Supermodel down from her midair home,
and Bridgette just collapsed onto the hardwood. Yvette removed the
nipple chains and the bucket, untaped Bridgette's well-used mouth, and
reattached the collar and leash to her thin neck.
"Ready for lunch?" Yvette asked rhetorically of her new plaything.
Bridgette looked up at her dominatrix meekly with her eyes. She wiped
away some of the brown clumps of shit that collected in her eyelashes,
and slowly nodded her head in the affirmative. Yvette led Bridgette by
the leash over to the tray of special crackers. Yvette began to softly
stroke Bridgette's beautiful sweat-soaked hair and then she suddenly,
and quite violently shoved Bridgette's face onto the tray.
"Eat, worthless bitch!"
Bridgette began to reach a hand over to the nearest cracker, but that
action was swiftly admonished with a powerful slap to her ass. Bridgette
cried out at the stinging in her ass.
"Eat like a dog, you stupid cunt. Not with your hands. Now eat!"
Bridgette lowered her head toward the tray and tried to tackle the first
shit-loaded cracker with her outstretched tongue. It took some effort,
but Bridgette finally managed to corral the stubborn cracker into her
mouth. Leaning her head back to keep the shit and cracker into her
mouth, Bridgette chewed only slightly, thinking it best to swallow
without tasting as best she could. This led to another violent slap on
her already bruised and tender ass.
"No, bitch. You will chew your food at least 25 bites per serving. One
shit-cracker represents one whole serving. So, you do the math, little
cunt. Now eat right, or I slap that ass until it bleeds."
Bridgette was thoroughly defeated and she put up no fight with the
second reprimand. For the next 11 crackers, Bridgette made sure to
mentally count out 25 bites per cracker in order to please her mistress,
Yvette. It took about thirty minutes to down the crackers, but
Bridgette finally finished the last one, and she almost smiled because
she thought her performance would please Yvette.
Yvette looked down on her plaything. Bridgette's face was still smeared
with shit, but Yvette could see the beautiful perfect supermodel
transforming into a beautiful perfect model slave.
Bridgette looked upwards to Yvette for approval.
"You have done well, my little plaything. You are well on your way now.
Perhaps one day when Mademoiselle Jennifer is bored with you, she will
sell you to me. Only then will you understand what it means to be a
true slave."
Bridgette wore a confused expression. She wasn't sure how to interpret
this. Was this a show of affection from Yvette? How could it be, after
all of the incredible torture she forced onto her?
Yvette repositioned Bridgette in the cage after wiping away the ugly shit
from her lips and face. But before closing the metal gate, Yvette leaned
down and stared long into Bridgette's blue eyes. Yvette found
Bridgette's lips and kissed her deeply and sensuously. Bridgette was too
confused to respond in any way. Yvette slowly drew herself away and
locked the gate.
"Somewhere down the road, maybe we will meet again. Until then, au
revoir, Bridgette...my little plaything."
