Robert had seen that look before, but nothing like this. Cassandra was grimacing through teary eyes. The shadows moving beyond the camera’s frame had no intention of reducing her discomfort. Rather, they seemed to revel in her growing distress.

It wasn’t clear to Robert what caused Cassandra’s discomfort. The camera operator hadn’t panned back and all Robert could see was her tear-stained cheeks. If she was pleading – and she was – she was doing it with her eyes and the desperate thrashing of her head.

Wedged between Cassandra’s teeth was ball the size of a doorknob. The wad of rubber split her jaw achingly wide, and Robert assumed the device alone was responsible for her tears. But then he noticed the rubber hose dangling from the center of the ball, the hose extending beyond the camera’s frame. What the hell?

As if sensing Robert’s curiosity, one of the shadows stepped into the picture. The man presented a plug similar to the one filling pried into Cassandra’s mouth, and he was about to give a demonstration. A rubber bulb was attached to the far end of the hose, and when he began to squeeze it, the plug grew at the opposite end.

Robert swallowed hard, watching the screen as the plug grew thicker, its girth reaching impressive proportions. But it was the length of the plug that Robert found alarming. As the man squeezed the pump and continued his demonstration, the plug assumed the shape of a phallus, curving upward like a knife while extending a full eight inches and swelling nearly five inches wide.

Cassandra also watched the demonstration with alarm, but for reasons Robert couldn’t discern, she did noting to turn away. Instead, she shook her head in a frantic display of terror, misery written in her eyes. The man set aside the plug and hose and presented a thin leather strap. He stepped behind Cassandra and placed the strap across her forehead, then circled it around the wooden beam rising behind her. His fingers worked the strap through a steel buckle and his forearms rippled as he drew it tight, then tighter still.

Cassandra’s head snapped sharply back. The man tugged the strap with mighty jerks until Cassandra’s head was fused to the beam, reducing her frantic gaze to the ceiling, which made it impossible to follow the shadows moving around her.

The soft curve of her neck was fully exposed. The muscles rippled under the strain of her new posture and the rubber wad splitting her jaw. Robert knew the strenuous position would soon be agony in itself, but still he was perplexed. Cassandra’s distress seemed too dramatic to be caused only by the rubber plug filling her mouth (and possibly her throat – he couldn’t tell). Her eyes glassed with tears and an emotion Robert couldn’t place. She stared achingly at the ceiling, her glance jumping this way and that, suggesting the shadows surrounding her were more than two in number, and they were busy with something.

Robert took a sip of Scotch and nearly chocked when the camera finally panned back. The screen offered a more complete picture, and Robert felt his heart skip in his chest.

Like her head, Cassandra’s upper body was fused to the same rigid beam, but that wasn’t what troubled him. It looked as if she had no arms, and her collarbones looked ready to snap. Her shoulders were reduced to nubs on the verge of dislocation. The divot at the base of her neck pulsed with sweat, the veins coursing in her neck.

Cassandra was still clad in her white bikini and her breasts looked impossibly large. The thick expression of her nipples swelling below the thin material didn’t escape Robert’s notice. The single white ribbon at the center of her Agua Bendita top strained to hold her heavy breasts together, their size and weight ready to spill from the confines of the bikini’s triangular cups.

A new camera angle explained Cassandra’s twisted form. A thin leather strap crossed her wrists and held them pinned behind the beam. A second strap mashed her forearms together while a third dug into the flesh of her arms both above and below the elbows. The leather had been synched and buckled so tight that her skin creased around it.

Robert saw the strands of wire wrapping her thumbs, noosing them together. Several more straps of leather held her wrists, elbows and shoulders tight against the beam itself. The bindings forced Cassandra’s shoulders back at such an angle that the tension alone drew tears from her eyes. But there was something else, and Robert saw it as the camera came back around.

As if the bindings alone weren’t enough, a wedge of wood rested between Cassandra’s upper back and the beam, forcing her into a painful arch. The position presented her hefty tits to the camera whether she wanted to or not, and he was certain that answer was not. It wasn’t by accident, Robert grinned, that her heavy breasts were so prominently displayed. It was the entire reason she was there – well, it was one of them – and he knew she’d suffer because of it, if she wasn’t suffering already.

The camera continued its pan, and Robert felt his hands begin to throb. Cassandra’s upper body was fused to the frame and held impossibly rigid, but her legs trembled from a stress Robert didn’t immediately understand.

Not until the camera panned back did he see the full beauty of Cassandra’s position. Her ankles were drawn back by a strap of leather and locked cruelly behind the beam. Four more straps circled her legs, both above and below her knees, her calves and thighs. She was tethered in place like a puppet, forced into something of an arch, her breasts thrust outermost. Her long legs strained, her tits heaved and it was clear she was trying madly to adjust her twisted position.

No wonder the bitch ain’t running away!

Robert chuckled when he saw that Cassandra still wore a single high heel – bright red to match the color of her nails. The other heel sat broken on the floor, an indication of the fight she’d put on before being subdued. Robert hadn’t noticed it before, but he saw another rubber hose dangling from between Cassandra’s legs. It vanished below the white bottoms of her bikini, and he could only imagine the plug wedged deep inside her tender folds, waiting for a few squeezes of the pump to reach full extension.

The shadows moved around her, slow in everything they did. They allowed the bondage to take its toll, and it was. Cassandra’s cries timed with her efforts to lift herself on the beam. The muscles in her legs tensed with each push, but the strain proved too much, the bindings too tight, and each time she collapsed on the beam, a shrill cry filling the room.

When the volume of Cassandra’s sobs reached the appropriate level, one of the shadows reached for the hose and pump bobbing from the plug in her mouth. Of course Cassandra tried to shake her head, but she couldn’t, not even an inch, and she cried a garbled UGHHH when the man squeezed the pump.

Cassandra’s cheeks bulged and her eyes watered fresh tears. The man squeezed the bulb again, then again, and Robert imagined the cruel plug filling Cassandra’s mouth, its length slipping toward the back of her throat. The frantic look on her face was priceless, and Robert laughed, knowing how long he’d waited for this.

The camera swung at wild angles and when it returned Cassandra’s bikini bottoms were laying on the floor – their strings unraveled. The same man was tending to the pump between her twitching legs. He worked just as slowly, one squeeze at a time, allowing the effects of the growing rubber monster to register in Cassandra’s brain. While she couldn’t see the plug’s growth, she certainly felt it, and if she was sobbing before, she was shrieking now.

With a wry grin, the man continued working the pump, his forearm rippling above his white-knuckled grip. He spent a good deal of time doing this, allowing the plug to transform into a monster fist, growing dangerously wide and long. The camera swung low, focusing on Cassandra’s pussy, her vulva split as if giving birth, the fat lips of her labia stretching thin.

Robert swallowed hard. Cassandra’s cunt looked ready to burst. The plug became a phallus spreading two inches, three inches, four inches wide, growing twice as long as it was thick. Cassandra became increasingly desperate and confused, as if she were being impaled on a shaft of steel. She pulled hard against the beam in frantic pulses, thinking she could somehow lift herself off whatever was driving into her – whatever was cleaving its way to impossible depths.

Robert knew the intrusion would follow Cassandra no matter how she tried to escape it. His hand on the pump, the shadowy figure continued to squeeze the tiny round bulb, again and again, completely def to Cassandra’s miserable cries.

The shadows stood around Cassandra, split as she was, grinning under their hoods. Robert heard a round of laughter and taunting cheers, and he was sure he saw the swell in Cassandra’s abdomen. Her struggles – so frantic and hurried – caused him to chuckle as well. Her face was a mask of ruin, her cheeks blackened with streaks of mascara, her blonde hair tangled around the strap pinning her head to the beam. The muscles in her neck strained as she gagged on the plug tickling her throat.

Another shadow stepped into the picture to cut away Cassandra’s bikini top. It was the moment he’d been waiting for. Robert inhaled sharply and whistled his amazement. Cassandra’s breasts bounded heavily across her chest, each capped with nipples the size of gumballs and wide, pink aureoles.

Robert listened with open ears, noting how Cassandra’s yowling intensified when a third shadow stepped behind her. She couldn’t see him reach around and cup her heavy breasts, nor could she see the heavy band of rubber he opened in his fingers.

The shadowy form slid the band over the screeching woman’s right breast before releasing it with a snap. The rubber contracted sharply, squeezing Cassandra’s tit at the base (and the air from her lungs). The sensation wasn’t immediate, but when it registered, she shuttered madly. Her right breast assumed the shape of a cantaloupe, swelling freakishly away from her chest. Without delay the man slipped a second band over Cassandra’s left tit, allowing the rubber to snap home just as the first.

Cassandra’s bound orbs parted slightly, equally round and strangely pointed. She gulped deeply before erupting with a shrill cry when the shadow behind her released the strap pinning her head to the beam. Cassandra’s head shot forward like a rocket, her blonde hair flying wildly as her eyes fixed sharply on her ballooning tits. A fresh tear squeezed from the corner of her eye before her head lulled to the side and thudded back against the beam.

Robert found it comical the way she gagged on the cock filling her throat, the way she lifted her head once again, this time fixing her horrified gaze on the three men standing as shadows before her. She screeched like a wounded animal, unable to scream Oh God! or Please No!, the two foremost phrases on her parted lips. Her eyes did all the speaking, her forlorn expression saying what words could not. How could things get any worse for the tortured beauty, Robert wondered?

And then the camera followed Cassandra’s worried glance, tracing it like a string to the source of her newest distress. Oh no… Robert thought. They wouldn’t…

The men standing before her held a spool of wire and several sets of pliers. It was the same wire they’d used to noose Cassandra’s thumbs together behind her. Judging by the pliers in their hands, Robert guessed, they planned to use the same technique to apply the wire to something else, and reason told him their focus was about to fall on Cassandra’s oversized tits.

Horrified and struggling with every muscle in her body, Cassandra must have reached the same conclusion. When then men scattered, she shook her head madly from side to side, insane screeches slipping past the gag filling her mouth.

The camera jumped back in a blur, then found its focus, and when it did, Robert saw the men cutting the wire into two foot lengths. Cassandra couldn’t see them work. Her teary gaze had fallen instead to the work of a single man tapping thick nails into the pillars of wood rising on either side of her.

Cassandra lurched frightfully in her bonds when one of the men stepped out from behind her. The fiend held up a tangle of wire clippings and a pair of rusting pliers. Cassandra shuttered. She tried to shrink away as the man reached for her ballooning right breast. She shook her head in angst, screeching MMMNOOO! in a desperate search for mercy.

Robert listened as Cassandra’s agonized groans became sorrowful sobs. The man on the screen reached for her captured breast and looped the first cut of wire around it. Paying no mind to the howling woman strung up before him, the fiend crossed the free ends of the wire and took them in the pliers before twisting.

The loop quickly contracted around the base of Cassandra’s magnificent breast. The fiend twisted the pliers until the wire had a firm squeeze on her soft tit. A volcanic cry erupted from her lungs, but still the man didn’t stop. He twisted the pliers again, then again, garroting Cassandra’s breast until it was utterly strangled at its base by the wire.

Robert leaned closer to the screen. The wire had been drawn so tight, even the band of rubber presenting Cassandra’s tit for wire’s application had gone slack. The man cut the band with a razor and clipped the wire ends down to the twisted knot buried in the hardening flesh of Cassandra’s swelling breast.

As if one wasn’t enough, the man presented a second cut of wire. Cassandra was beside herself with fright. Her left breast had ballooned off her chest and grew darker by the minute. The faint glow of veins surfaced, crossing her captured tit like a spider web.

To Cassandra’s horror (and Robert’s pleasured amazement) the man didn’t pause when looping the second wire over the same strangulated tit. He set the wire loop a mere inch above the first and garroted her tit a second time using deep turns of the pliers. Cassandra’s breast looked as if would explode off her chest. Each turn of the pliers seemed to squeeze the air from her lungs. Her tit pushed further off her chest, as if it were no longer part of her. Her head slammed back against the beam before lurching forward, her eyes fluttering waves of panic. Her face ran scarlet from her endless screams and still, Robert laughed, she continued to choke on the rubber cock filling her throat, unable to say a word in protest.

The shadowy form stood firmly at Cassandra’s side, undeterred and completely unmoved by the suffering he caused with each turn of the pliers. Like a magician, he presented a third wire loop. He allowed Cassandra’s sobs to build before slipping it over the same breast and applying the pliers yet again. The loop tightened, squeezing Cassandra’s breast an inch above the second wire, which sat an inch above the first.

Cassandra’s breast pulsed inches from her eyes and fresh tears wetted her cheeks. Robert couldn’t blame her for the tears given the sight of her tit. It was no longer neatly balled like the other, which was still constricted by the grip of the rubber band. Rather, her tortured tit resembled a link of sausage, at least at the base where the three wires compressed it cruelly. The rest of her breast swelled outward in a darkening mass, capped by something that looked more like a gumball than a nipple.

It’s pointing straight off her chest, Robert noted with amusement. But his amusement gave way to shock when the fiend presented another wire and slipped it over the same breast with a frightening nonchalance. He applied the pliers while Cassandra sang desperate cries, her legs bucking against the beam, knocking off her remaining heel.

Surely they would stop, Robert thought. But they didn’t stop, and without pause the man applied a fifth wire, then a sixth, turning each as tightly as the others. By the time he slipped the eighth wire over Cassandra’s tit, a second figure appeared in the picture, beginning the same process on Cassandra’s right breast. The pair worked slowly, never in a hurry, twisting the wires with deliberate turns, completely def to the woman shrieking between them.

Robert couldn’t watch and yet he couldn’t turn away. He was mesmerized by the struggling form filling the screen. Cassandra was hysterical, emitting cries that resembled an animal caught in a snare. The wire gripped her breasts cruelly. When the shadows stepped away (only for a minute) Robert counted 12 cuts of wire garroting each of Cassandra’s breasts.

They set their pliers aside after cutting each twisted loop down to the knot, suggesting their permanence. The wires wrapped the circumference of her breasts from their constricted base out to their pointed tips. The twin masses twisted grotesquely, starting this way before turning that. Her nipples swelled and pointed at odd angles like two lazy eyes.

Cassandra’s body was racked with tiny convulsions, and she howled miserably before the camera. The rigid bondage denied her any chance at freedom. Best of all, Robert knew, it denied her any chance of relief.

That was now out of Robert’s control. He watched instead as Cassandra’s head lulled side to side, the stars no doubt twinkling in her eyes. But they wouldn’t allow her such sweet escape, and the men stepped in to give her throbbing nipples a few swift flicks to bring her back to awareness.

Robert watched Cassandra’s tits bob up and down with every breath she took, every shock-induced cry. The rubber hose danced between her legs like a tail she couldn’t shake. Robert nearly forgot about the giant, curving phallus filling Cassandra’s cunt (though the look on Cassandra’s face told him she was painfully aware of it). The muscles in her belly heaved as if she believed she could still work to dislodge the monster from her sex (an impossible task given its length and width).

Cassandra’s twisted face and tortured cries made it impossible to tell what troubled her most, the stuffing and stretching of her pussy with a shaft the size of a bowling pin, or the strangulation of her magnificent breasts. Whatever it was, Cassandra’s ragged cries weren’t slowing, but rather, Robert noticed, they seemed to increase. The shadows had gathered around her, grinning wryly with crossed arms while letting the passage of time do its work. They weren’t even touching her. Each minute that ticked away only increased the throbbing in her strangled tits. Her packaged breasts had grown dark in color, almost purple, the skin white under the wires giving them a strangely striated look. Cassandra thrashed feverishly, screeching for release. But release wouldn’t come (they would never allow it) and Robert grinned at her predicament.

The shadows only laughed, pleased with the effect time was taking on their tortured prize. Their fingers again returned to Cassandra’s swollen nipples, thwacking and stroking them intermittently for nothing more than the fun that was in it. Each brush and poke at Cassandra’s swollen, throbbing nipples drew fresh sobs and screams from her lungs. So large and engorged, her nipples proved easy targets, and when the mild torment grew tiring, one produced a clamp of black steel and released it without warning over Cassandra’s right nipple.

The effect was immediate. Cassandra’s eyes shot open and her feet kicked with such force it nearly tore the post from the concrete floor. The fiend produced a second clamp and displayed it proudly before Cassandra’s terrified eyes. But he didn’t apply it just yet. He toyed with her instead, opening and closing the biting dragon over the swollen nub of her left breast.

The taunting served as torture in itself, sending Cassandra into a frenzy of shrieks. It also served an effective distraction from the action taking place behind her. Oh no… Robert thought, watching the fiends prepare another lead of wire. Nearly eight feet long, they looped it once in the center and slipped it over Cassandra’s breasts, catching them both in its noose. Cassandra hadn’t seen it coming, but she caught sight of it, just as the man snapped the clamp over her nipple, crushing it firmly.

When Cassandra’s cries reached a new height, the fiend released the clamp, turned it ninety degrees, and applied it again. At the same time, the others took the free ends of the long strand of wire and stretched them to the posts rising on either side of their tortured prize. They began twisting the wire around each nail and, slowly, the noose closed in on Cassandra’s breasts, squeezing them together, tightly, then tighter still, until they pointed away, compressed side by side, dark in color and throbbing miserably.

And as Cassandra’s screams reached a new height, Robert grabbed his hat and gloves, took the directions in his hand, and set off for the car. He could hardly wait to stand before his twisted little puppet and extract the confessions she had denied him all along…