More Tingles for Tiffany
(Part 2)
Tiffany found herself exhausted, to the point of semi-
consciousness, her eyes closed, her head hanging. At least, now,
she had a moment to think. Her own father had watched as
Tiffany, suspended from the ceiling of the basement, had been
tortured by a strange man in a police uniform, assisted by her
own mother, who sucked Tiffany's clitoris until countless orgasms
reduced Tiffany to mindlessness!
She took stock of her situation. Her legs were still
widespread, tied to ceiling joists, and her arms were tied to
hold her body upright. He breasts ached, felt as if they would
explode, still compressed by rubber bindings, but the painful
clamps on her vulva had been released. She could feel the
vibrating egg inside her, the cord and battery box still hanging
from her anus, but the vibrator had been turned off. Tiffany
opened her eyes, turned her head, and saw her father was still
tied to a post, having been forced to watch her utter
degradation.
She looked for her mother, and saw her standing behind
another column. Her mother's bound breasts protruded, either
side of the post, and the nipples were joined by a chain, so that
the woman could not move away from it. A similar chain went
around the column lower down; Tiffany supposed it connected her
mother's labia in a similar manner. Her mother's arms were
behind her back.
The "policeman" entered the room. The man released the
rubber which bound Tiffany's breasts, and she felt the strange
sensation of circulation returning to them, as they returned to
their more normal shape. With a steady pull on the cord of the
vibrator, he tried to remove the silver egg from Tiffany's anus.
She tried to help, straining, as if on the toilet, and the egg
slid out. From behind her, he reached around and kneaded her
ample breasts. There was nothing she could do to resist, hanging
from the joists, and she wondered what her mother and father,
still watching, were thinking.
"Thirsty?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
"That's yes, Master."
"Yes, Master."
The man grabbed her hair, pulled her head back and poured a
warm beer into her mouth, followed by a second can.
Then the man did a strange thing. He placed one finger in
her vulva and snapped the fingers of the other hand. Instantly,
Tiffany felt a tingle, and she realized she was secreting the
fluids which lubricate the sex act. The man removed his dampened
finger and remarked, "Yes, we are beginning to establish a
conditioned reflex."
Tiffany realized with horror that she was just like one of
Pavlov's dogs, who were conditioned to salivate when they heard a
bell. Only she was conditioned to feel sexy when she heard
fingers snap. She was losing control of her own body!
The "policeman" went to her father and locked a collar
around his neck, with a chain leash attached. Then he untied him
from the post. He handcuffed him and led the dejected man across
the room, hooking the chain with enough slack that the father
could sit down. "Can't have him tied up like that all night," he
said, almost apologetically. "He might have a heart attack or
something. The poor sod; what some people will do for money."
He removed the chain from the mother's breasts, and the
hooks from her cunt, so she could move away from the post. Then
he unbound the mother's breasts. Straining to turn her head and
watch, Tiffany noted the red marks of the bindings persisting on
her mother's tortured breasts. Well, it would only be a matter
of time before he let Tiffany go. She looked at her father. He
was staring at her gaping crotch.
Her mother used the bathroom, and got a drink of water.
Then she returned to the room, looking stronger than she had.
She was obviously an obedient slave. Meanwhile, the man pushed
the ping-pong table so it was under Tiffany. "Hands look as if
they are turning blue," he remarked, as he unhooked her hands and
lowered her so that her shoulders rested on the table, supporting
some of her weight, while her butt was still a few inches above
the surface.
"Slave One," the man said, "you remember what happened to
your pubic hair?"
"Yes, Master."
He handed the mother a pair of pliers. "I want Slave Two
hairless." He handed her a glass jar.
To Tiffany's horror, her mother obediently approached her,
standing between Tiffany's taut, outstretched legs. The mother
placed the pointy ends of the pliers around one of Tiffany's
curly pubic hairs and pulled. Tiffany could see the hair
straighten, the follicle bulge, and then it popped out. The
mother dropped it in the jar.
The pain of having a single hair pulled out is not so severe
it cannot be withstood. The pain of having thousands pulled out,
one every few seconds, for hours, is most unpleasant. Tiffany
could not help complaining, crying out in frustration, but her
mother was methodical, rhythmical. Grasp. Pull. Pop. Drop. Her
father watched; God knows what he was thinking. The man watched,
seeming to enjoy watching a mother denuding her daughter more
than if he had done it himself. To add to her discomfort,
Tiffany's bladder filled, and after hours of painfully trying to
hold it in, she peed on her mother.
"I'm sorry," Tiffany said.
"I'm sorry you had to do that. I'll try to hurry."
"How did you let this man make a slave of you, Mother?"
Tiffany winced, as a hair was plucked from the very center of her
vulva.
"He owns the company where your father works. He made us an
offer, and, with your dad needing work, and the bills piling up,
it was hard to refuse. Your father didn't want to let me, but we
talked it over. The pay is good."
"The man must be crazy," Tiffany said, softly, hoping he
wouldn't hear.
"No. Sexually abusing slaves is nothing new. All down
through history, people in power have tortured others, from
Catherine the Great to Idi Amin. Who knows what J.F.K. did with
that Exner woman," said her mother. "He's not crazy. He's
always in control, never does any permanent damage." Tiffany
noted that her mother's tortured breasts looked almost normal,
the red marks having faded over the hours.
At last, the jar was full of curly hairs, and Tiffany's
crotch was as hairless as a newborn's. The stranger came over to
examine it, running his fingers over the tender skin, feeling to
see that not a hair remained, even up by her anus. He capped the
jar.
"I have quite a collection, " he said to Tiffany.
Though Tiffany's wrists were still bound together, she was
able to reach down and finger her newly naked vulva. Strange.
So sensitive to touch. He father still stared at her,
expressionless. He had wet his pants. Her mother stood
obediently, waiting for orders from her master.
The master selected a penis shaped battery powered vibrator,
with a little brush of rubber bristles around the base, to tickle
a naked vulva. He also selected a rubber bulb, as on a blood
pressure cuff, with a hose and a balloon on the end. With one
finger, he put some lubricant on Tiffany's anus and forced the
hose and balloon through. He snapped his fingers, and the
vibrator slid right into her vaginal sheath, no extra lubricant
required.
He inserted a rather larger vibrator, which had straps
attached, into Tiffany's mother. She stood, passively, as he
fastened the straps, so it could not possibly slip out. He used
a plastic tie to fasten the mother's thumbs together, behind her
back, so she couldn't touch the vibrator.
The man pumped on the rubber bulb, and Tiffany felt the
balloon growing inside her, sending tingles through her insides,
somewhat like the way the vibrating egg had affected her. More
important, the swelling balloon pressed her vaginal walls tightly
against the vibrator, and the vibrator was held firmly against
that sensitive G-spot behind her pubic bone. The man started
snapping his fingers and turned on both vibrators.
Tiffany was vaguely aware of her mother, grimacing and
sweating, but she had problems of her own. The sensations in her
vagina were incredible, while the rubber fingers tickled her
clitoris and her hairless labia. Very soon, she was gasping,
writhing, sweating, in the throes of a violent orgasm, but, as
before, there was no chance to relax afterward. The finger
snapping continued, and the orgasms, great hammerings in her
womb, came one after another, until the almost continual ecstasy
drove her to mindless hallucinations, fireworks in her brain.
At last the torture of unbearable pleasure ceased, and the
appliances were pulled from her body cavities. Tiffany slumped,
eyes closed, only half conscious, feeling suddenly empty, but
deliciously aware of the sensations in her pelvis as her engorged
organs, swollen with blood, stimulated beyond belief, slowly
returned to their normal states. She did not even think of her
mother.
The man left for a few minutes and returned with a strange
device, which he had probably left in his car. It looked like a
collection of rubber balls, assembled together into a tee shape,
with a rope extending from the stem of the tee. He put it down
and shifted the table, so that Tiffany's raised butt was about
over the middle.
"First time I've had a chance to use this like this," the
man noted. He snapped his fingers a few times, unnecessary, as
Tiffany was still drenched with vaginal juices. Then he pushed
the string of balls which formed half the crossbar of the tee
into Tiffany's vagina. She felt as if she were being raped, but
she half expected that.
The man untied one ankle, moved Tiffany's leg across to the
other, and tied her ankles together. The stem of the tee now lay
along the backs of her thighs. He led the rope from the stem up
between Tiffany's bound ankles. Then he unhooked her ankles from
the ceiling, lowering her butt to the table, and loosely attached
her ankles to the hook where her hands had been fastened.
He ordered Slave One onto the table and ordered her to lie
on her back, with her legs raised. It was only then that Tiffany
figured out what the man had in mind. He moved her mother, so
that the other side of the Tee crossbar entered her vagina, and
he bound the mother's ankles to her daughter's.
With stretchy rubber straps, the man bound the mother's and
daughters legs together: ankles, calves, above the knee, halfway
up the thigh, and finally just below the crease of the buttocks.
As their legs were pressed together, their buttocks mashed into
one, the rubber tee was forced deeper into their vaginas, and the
balls of the stem, compressed between the four thighs, forced
their labia apart and pressed upward toward the pubic bones.
When the man was finished, mother and daughter, joined by the
Tee, formed a giant Tee, their torsos being the crossbar, their
four legs, bound tightly together, forming the stem. He released
the attachment of the legs to the ceiling, so that the two women
could lie on their sides.
He flicked off the light and left, saying, "I need some
sleep. Good night, slaves."
Tiffany's weight was supported by her shoulder and hip,
pressing against the hard table. She was acutely aware of the
pressure of her mother's flesh against her buttocks and the backs
of her thighs, and the rubber balls which filled her vagina and
distended her vulva, pressing on the clitoris, so that she could
not get her mind off the sensations in her genital area. Every
time Tiffany moved, in a futile effort to relieve the pressure of
the hard table, the friction of her mothers flesh against hers,
and the rippling movement of the balls within her, reminded her
of her sexual frustration. She was continuously stimulated,
continuously aware of the tingles in her crotch, but she could
not get the relief of an orgasm. From sheer exhaustion, she
caught snatches of sleep, but it was a fretful night. Once,
waking in the darkness, Tiffany was able to get one finger down
between her pressed-together thighs. She could not reach her
clitoris, but she was able to press on the rubber ball which
pressed against it and, by thinking her sexiest fantasies, and
snapping her fingers, she was finally able to masturbate to an
orgasm and blessed relief.
"Yes, that helps," she heard her mother say.
When the "policeman" returned and turned on the light, it
was already late in the second day. Tiffany had been restrained
for more than twenty-four hours, and it was a blessed relief to
watch him releasing the tight rubber straps which bound her to
her mother. As soon as she could move, she pulled away, feeling
the balls in her vagina pop-popping out. The man examined her
gaping cunt and stuffed a thick roll of twenty dollar bills into
it. He left her, sitting on the table, her wrists still bound,
as he gathered up his paraphernalia and pulled the rubber tee
from the mother's cunt. He stuffed her with a roll of bills,
too.
"Well, I'll see you both the first of next month," he said
as he left.
Her mother untied Tiffany's wrists, and they helped each
other remove the gratuities from their vaginas. It seemed so
dirty, to be paid that way, though the money was a substantial
and welcome contribution to the family income, and tax free. The
two naked women released their father who, embarrassed that he
had wet himself, went upstairs to shower and change.
The two women sat, naked, on the plastic seats of kitchen
chairs, waiting for the father to get out of the shower. "Just
like a man. You can go first, when he's done, Tiffany. I hope
there's some hot water left," said her mother.
Tiffany examined herself. Except for bruises and a sore
"down there", she was uninjured. It had been an eventful twenty-
four hours. "The first of the month is only three weeks away,"
she said.
"When we get cleaned up and dressed," her mother said, "I'll
make us all a nice breakfast. Bacon and eggs sound good?"
"Yes, I'm starving. Is it always like that, when he
visits?"
"No, he likes to think up new variations. I've been tied up
every way I could think of."
"Do you think he'll pierce my labia, the ways yours are?"
"Sooner or later, I suppose."
"What's the worst thing he ever did?"
"I don't know. Vodka in the vagina. It really burns.
Doesn't leave any scars though."
Tiffany shuddered. "Will it ever end? Will we ever be free
of him?"
"When we're out of debt, I suppose."
College, maybe graduate school -- years. "Does he ever --
you know -- real sex?" asked Tiffany.
"No. He's made your father... while he watched."
Tiffany closed her eyes and let her imagination run free.
Three weeks isn't such a long time to wait.
