FETISH VIDEO INC.

       The dark colored limo slows toward the curb, rolls to a stop in front of a row of mostly rundown storefronts.

       “We’re here.”  The driver mutters, glancing unabashed into the rear view mirror,  catching more then a glimpse of Jodi’s exposed, tanned cleavage as she’s leaning forward on the back seat, peering into her compact, freshening her lip-gloss.  His expression becomes more of a smirk as his right hand reaches for the column gearshift, shoves it into park.

       Glancing toward the  storefront, knowing what she’s in store for, he thinks to himself how he can’t wait to see her later tonight, when all the club members meet right here, realizing she doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to be getting a lot more then she’s bargained for.  She’s going to get her photo shoot alright, but unbeknownst to her, in a short while she’s going to be naked, in bondage, severely disciplined, just like her friend, then, later tonight, presented to the club members, for their pleasure.

       Twisting, barely tilting his head towards the back seat, he gives a nonchalant nod while waving toward the gaudy painted building thru the passenger window while repeating.  “You’re here. That’s the place.”

       Turning her head toward the rear passenger door window, Jodi glances out at the only recently painted building, sandwiched between other dirty, unkempt storefronts.   “This… This is where you brought Amanda?”  She asks, as if he must be joking.   “That’s the studio?!!”

       “Yea… Yea, sure is!  This is where I dropped her off this afternoon.  Went right in there!”  He smirks.

       Flipping his door open, he exits, steps around the rear of the limo, glances through the window, watching as she continues with her makeup.  Taking his time opening her door, he leers down between the hallow of her practically exposed breasts, thinking of later this evening, as she makes last second adjustments to her revealing clothing.

       Leaning out from the back seat, her dark, braided hair flips across her shoulder as she steps onto the curb.  It’s twilight, muggy, she feels a slight drizzle in the air, the sticky dampness covers her face, clings across the bare, rounded curves of her swaying, pushed up, melon sized breasts, overflowing the silk lace cups of her low cut French bra.

       He can’t help staring at her seductive figure, making out the impressions of her dark, hard nipples, barely covered, firmly pressing thru the damp, sheer white chiffon material of her partially unbuttoned midriff blouse as it’s material becomes even more transparent with the scattered raindrops.   Glancing downward toward her long, slender legs, he also notices her bare, ripped stomach, inverted bellybutton, even notices the upper rounded curve of her freshly shaven pubic mound peeking over her revealing low cut hip hugger jeans.

       Giving the impression of ignoring him, glancing up, down the darkening street, she notices that the few people hanging out in front of the row of buildings appear to be either hard looking Hispanics or Blacks.  The neighborhood’s obviously seen better days she thinks to herself, well on the way to becoming a ghetto, as she hears what sounds like a cat whistle or two.

       Business card in hand with the address scribbled across the back, she hustles toward the building he pointed out as the drizzle suddenly becomes a brisk shower.  She can feel the raindrops soaking across her shoulders and bare cleavage as she reaches the storefront’s awning.  It appears to her to be a typical looking, seedy adult shop.  Hearing the limo door slam behind her, she turns, watching as it pulls away from the curb as she make’s him out giving her a nonchalant wave of the hand.

       Double checking the florescent numbers above the storefront’s brightly painted entrance with the ones on her card, she feels somewhat of a relief, yet still a little uneasy as she again gives a quick glance down the darkening street toward the group giving out the catcalls.  Ducking the shower, she hears the jingle of the bell off the top of the door as it opens.  Stepping through, she walks past the dull red pin light of what appears to be a security cam.

       Glancing around, she notices the cluttered checkout counter against the right side of the wall with a sign above it… FETISH VIDEO INC.

       The aisle’s narrow, dimly lit, the shelves haphazardly jammed with seemingly an unlimited amount of fetish paraphernalia, mixed with an assortment of graphic magazine covers of naked women, mostly with bondage settings, some obviously involving torture.  Lowering her eyes, gazing down toward the dirty wooden floor, she slowly heads toward the counter.

       “Help ye?”  The clerk asks in a gruff voice, barely turning his head in her direction.  Standing by the register, causally leafing thru a magazine while glancing toward a couple of black and white monitors flickering on the shelf beside him, he seems almost nonchalant to her presence.

       “Uh… I’m, I’m looking.”  She explains as she stops in front of the counter, glances at his faded black biker T shirt stretching across his muscular arms and barrel chest.  “For… For my friend.  I think I’m supposed to meet her here.  I mean, at this address.”

       “What for?”  He gruffly counters, still gazing back and forth at the video playing on one of the monitors.

       Looking upward, toward him, she senses he wasn’t too bad looking at one time, now, just a hard ass with an out of date, bleached mullet.

       “We, I have an appointment, for, for a photo shoot.”  She answers almost embarrassingly as she also glances toward the monitor, realizes it’s playing some sort of bondage video.

       She can barely hear its low audio of leather striking flesh, the moans, and pleas of a blindfolded naked woman in the background.  Somewhat embarrassed, she turns her head slightly away, raises the back of the card towards him, adding.  “I’m… I’m supposed to meet her at this address.  But, I thought, I mean, I thought this was supposed to be a photographer’s studio.         We… We’re on vacation here in Miami and have a couple days left, and, and were told we could make some extra cash modeling for a day…”

       “It is!  What’s she look like?… That there?”  He grunts, points at the screen, then reaches toward the monitor, turns the volume down.

       Grinning, as a close up shot of the woman’s bare breasts being flailed with a brown, flat leather strap fills the monitor’s screen, he reaches down for the card, adds.  “Gimme that girly! Let’s see,  wouldn’t be kinda young, with big jugs would she?… Like hers?”  He smirks, cupping, bouncing his hands up and down in front of his chest as he again glances toward the screen.  “Now that one’s got a nice rack, don’t she?… Yea, they’re really workin ’em too…  Huh?”

       Resting his arm on the counter he turns his head, obviously peering down between the curves of Jodi’s glistening, rounded breasts as he continues.  “Ye like those types’ videos? Bare titties, maybe even having ‘em whipped?”

       “Wha…What?”  Jodi, in a disgusted, raised tone blurts back as she feels the warmth of her face flushing.

       “Never mind!”  He grins.  “But, couldn’t help noticing ye staring at the monitor.  Thought that maybe you were into that kinda stuff!  One way or the other, anyway, her name’s Amanda.  Right?”  He grunts, again for some reason glancing back toward the torture video.  “We’ve been expecting… Another girl, too.  To use with her.”  He smirks, continues to eye the monitor, almost lewdly.  “A Jobi…  Jodi, something like that I think.  That wouldn’t be you now, would it?”

       “Ye… Yes... It would!  And, and it’s a photo shoot.”  She replies with a hesitation, her eyes again being attracted toward the muffled sound from the flickering monitor, toward the hazy video of the naked, struggling woman, again a close up of her flailing bare breasts, splotched with welts, crying, begging.

       Lowering her eyes, she adds.  “I… I’m  Jodi.”

       “Humph.”  He again glances toward the magazine, slowly shakes his head, tosses the card on the counter, nonchalantly blurts.  “They’re wet!”                                “Wha… What?”  She asks, not quite understanding his off the wall comment.

       Still appearing engrossed in the magazine, he smirks.   “Them, your tits, that rack.  They’re wet!“

Taken aback, still embarrassed, Jodi reflexively raises her left arm across the top of her wet blouse, slides her hand across her moist flesh while feeling the nub of her right nipple hardening under the damp material.  Again gazing away from the monitor, toward the vacant isles, she stammers.  “It’s, it’s raining outside! Anyway, I was told to dress this way for the session, where, where’s she…..”

       Cutting her off in mid sentence, glancing up, he rasps.  “Hey, you’re in the right place Missy, but you’re late.  We’ve been waiten’ for ye!  Yeh!”

       “Excuse me!”  She blurts back in an obviously irritated voice.  Keeping her eyes from his gaze, she starts to ask. “I got delayed, is she …”

       “Those puppies are big, but ain’t as big as hers!  Are they?  Grunting, he nods, eyes obviously fixed once again between the hollow of her breasts.  “Yea!” He adds again turning, glancing toward the video.  “But then, I guess you’re a little better looking, tits just ain’t quite as big.  But, then again, looks like ‘ye fill those jeans out pretty good too.  Anyway, you’re late, like I said!”

       Not believing what she’s hearing, past the point of irritation, she scolds back.  “Okay, Christ!  I said I’m sorry!”  Her face flushing a deep shade of red as she glares back up toward him.

       Annoyed by his lewd stare, the sadistic porn on the video, not only does she slide her left arm completely over her chest, her hand now covering, cupping her right breast, her other hand also slides down across the front of her form fitting hip hugger jeans.  “I asked you, where, WHERE… IS… SHE?”

       “I said they took her back to the rear room already.  To that, that studio you’re looking for.  They’ve already begun her shoot, there, thru that back door.”  He nods while pointing.  “Yea, they’ve already taken her back.  Auditioning her while I’m left out here waiten’ for you.”

       Leaning over the counter staring at her, he again focuses on her chest, adding.  “Calm down girly, she done showed us her tits.  Actually bared ‘em, right out here. Got a good look!  Yea, right out here!  Like I said, she’s got nice big titties.”

       Stepping off the counter, again bouncing his hands up and down in front of his chest, he stares toward the front door.  “Go on back, I’m locking up.  They’re be expecting you.  They’ll be wanten’ to start shooten your titties too, soon enough.”

       “What?  What you mean?  Shoot my?……… Hell, she’s… She’s back there?”  Stammering, Feeling the warmth of her face still flushing, she glances down the isles, toward the back of the store.

       Trying to absorb his words, trying to make some sense of what he just said, she turns toward the rear of the shop.  Still, she can’t help taking one more glance at the video.  She watches briefly, almost transfixed at the scene of the woman still being sadistically whipped, methodically beaten, primarily across her bare breasts.

       Turning back, he grins, shakes his head slowly.  “Girly, don’t worry, you’ll get your chance too, just like her!  So don’t worry.  But, I don’t have to tell ’ye, believe me, there’ll be plenty for you!!  Just like with your friend!”  He adds as again he glances toward the monitor, flicks it off, and heads toward the front of the shop.

       Embarrassed, angered, thinking to herself that he’s strange, actually an obnoxious pig, she also glances a final time toward the grainy video fading off, as that same naked woman was still being whipped, tortured, the static sound still crackling from the monitor.

       What’s he mean… Just like her?  She thinks to herself… Is he talking about Amanda?… Or???

       Finally turning away from the monitor, she looks for the aisle to the rear of the store, for an instant thinking about heading for the front door, but realizes the neighborhood she’s in, the rain, the darkness, the group hanging outside.  She decides to find the rear room, Amanda.  Hearing the bell jiggling as he flips the open/close sign in the window over, she can’t help but feel another tinge of apprehension as she slowly continues down the aisle, thru the seedy shop.

       Glancing from one magazine rack to another she senses that the magazines are exclusively of women in distress.  Most naked, in various stages of being bound, some being tortured.  She can feel her heart pounding a little harder in her chest as she hears the lock turning on the front door.

       Not knowing quite what to expect, with building trepidation, she approaches a solid, grungy metal door only to notice what appears to be a bondage mannequin on display, positioned on a podium against the wall to its left.  Life sized, arched, twisted, bound, it’s far worse then something off the magazine covers.  Almost in disbelief Jodi does a double take, stares closer at the realistic, virtually life like; apparently wax covered nude form of what appears to be a tortured woman with chains hanging off her.

       The disturbing setting runs shivers up her spine.   A trio of matching metal chains crosses her torso, connected together into a “Y” above her navel.  Hanging from oversize pierces of her nipples and clit while her arms are single sleeved tightly behind her back in a black leather bondage glove, a bright red “O” ring’s forced between her stretched lips as her piercing eyes stare straight ahead thru a black leather eye mask.  She’s also posed in thigh high tall, black stiletto boots with at least eight inch heels.  And most disturbing, she appears to be actually mounted on a thick silver pole, crammed up her anus, behind her smoothly shaven, gapped vagina.

       Taking her eyes away from the mannequin, she notices to its left, a tray containing various instruments, obviously used for torture.  Needles, whips, clamps are combined with torturous appearing dildo shaped devices.  A sign above the tray reading…   FEEL FREE TO USE YOUR IMAGINATION, in bold red letters.

       Her disturbing interest in the mannequin’s distracted as she hears occasional muffled sounds coming from the other side of the door.  A voice, a faint, woman’s voice, is begging, crying.  Also, she’s sure she hears what sounds like a man’s grunts, leather smacking against bare flesh.

       “Here, what’s the matter?”  The clerk startles Jodi. “Oh… Like the looks of her? That outfit?  We have more chains just like those!”  The clerk nods toward the display.  “I’ll get the door, out of the way!”  He mutters as he brushes past.  “We’ll have some privacy now, at least until we re-open for the members, later this evening.”

       Alarmed, Jodi steps back a step. Apprehensively glancing back at the hideous podium, then toward the right hand side of the door, she notices another, identical podium.  Vacant, except for its glistening silver pole, rising from the floor next to another tray filled with even more foreboding instruments.  She jerks as she feels his hand sliding across her forearm.

       Leaning toward her, again staring down at her chest, he grabs the doorknob with his other hand, quickly twists it.  The door barely cracks open as she feels his grip slide up toward her elbow, tighten, almost painfully.

       “Oh!  By the way, I forgot to tell you, your friend kind of disappointed us at first, was hesitant about showing us her tits out there!  So we helped.  Stripped her completely naked!”  He smirks as he forces Jodi onto her tiptoes, twisting her arm up behind her. “Yea, got her naked pretty quick too, then grabbed those big ‘ol titties of hers and yanked her on back here.  Yea, raised her right off the floor by ‘em!  Were stretching ‘em pretty good when we carried her back!!!”

       Trying to twist away, wide eyed, Jodi blurts.  “Wha…What do… Do… Do you mean?”  She feels his grip painfully jerking her arm as the door swings open.  “Let me, let me go!”

       The sounds that were muffled become louder, clearer.  “Thwack!…. Agghhhh!… Thwack!…. Ahhh… Please!!”  The pace has picked up.  “Oh My God!… Thwack!.… Ohhh!… Not there again!  No more!  God!  Ohhh my nipples!  Please, stop! Stop! I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!!… Thwack… Agghhhh!!”

       “You hear that, don‘t ye?  Sound familiar?  They’re working her real good!”  He grins with a quick glance as he leans thru the door.  “Yea!  She’s getting those big ‘ol melons a serious workout!” He sinisterly smirks as he pulls his head back out, stares straight into her eyes.

       Squirming, twisting, Jodi tries to back away, but can’t.  Twisting her upper right arm with his strong fist, he swings the door completely open, practically drags her thru.  Her eyes widen as she staggers, almost stumbles to the floor.  Quickly glancing around in front of her she’s stunned by the site.  In the dim light she can barely make out a number of muscular, totally naked men positioned around a glistening, bound woman’s body in the center of the room as she’s struggling to balance herself on a stool.

       “Aggghhhhhh!!!… Thwack!…Smack!… Thwack!… Agghhhh!!!”  The sounds of the straps bruising her flesh, her gurgles, squeals, fill the small room.

       “Recognize her now?”  The clerk scoffs as he nods toward the ravaged woman.  “Look anything like the video on the monitor out front?  Could that be her? Your friend?”

       “Thwack!… Thwack!:”  The straps slice thru the air.  “Agghhhh!!!  More pitiful screams.

       The woman struggling, twisting, jerking on the short, uneven stool, Jodi realizes, is Amanda, completely naked with the exception of being blindfolded with a black scarf around her eyes!  Arms crossed, lifted, twisted up behind her head, her glistening, naked body’s crisscrossed with bright red welts as flat leather straps relentlessly slash across her drenched, bare flesh.

       “Thwack!”  “Agghhhh!… Oh God no more!”  “Thwack!!… Thwack!!”  Amanda begs, her pleads go unheeded.  “God!! No more!!”  “Thwack!” “Aggghhhhhh!”

       Jodi suddenly realizes that the video at the desk wasn’t just a tape, but actually was Amanda being tortured… Live!  Terrified, she feels both her elbows gripped painfully up behind her back as she’s jerked up off the floor, her left breast bulging from her bra, the nipple partially flipping above the lace lining.  She’s practically dragged thru another door, into a smaller room with a glass divider, facing the torture room.

       Still stunned, she can’t help staring thru the glass partition in disbelief at the commotion.  She feels almost dazed, unable to take her eyes from what seems like a dark, horror movie scene as the door slams shut, muffling the hideous sounds.

       She watches wide eyed as a tanned, muscular man, wearing a black hood, crosses back and forth in front of the stool, sadistically slashing Amanda’s flailing breasts with a sinister flat leather strap.  A single bright bulb hanging from the ceiling sways above her head as her glistening, sweating body twists while contorting with each sadistic stroke.

       In contrast, his enormous manhood slaps between his taut thighs, his bulging muscles flexing as he punishes her with the strap.

       Almost in disbelief Jodi realizes that standing in the shadows to either side of her frantic friend; two other men also have what appear to be similar, leather straps in their hands.  They’re taking turns whipping her back, buttocks.  And, as Jodi unbelievingly stares at the surreal scene, she realizes they’re also occasionally lashing her right up between her inner thighs, lifting her upwards onto her tiptoes.

       The sounds of the straps, her cries, are muffled by the glass partition between the rooms.  The red welts crisscrossing Amanda’s perspiring shoulders, buttocks glisten in the light as she twists, turns, reflexively jerks under the punishing floggings.

       “See, you’re lucky!”  The clerk grunts sarcastically toward Jodi’s ear as he tightly grips both her elbows together behind her back with one huge hand while tugging her braided hair back with the other.  “Look closer!  All those lashings and the straps aint even broken her skin yet!  Just nice red, painful welts!  We’re all experts at that! Don’t want to permanently harm the merchandise.  After all, you’re all valuable property to us now!”  He continues.  “But, hey, don’t feel left out.  We’re gonna give you a good hard whipping too!  Take you to the edge, just like her!  You’ll have your share of welts among other things before the nights over!”

       Jodi’s heart pounds in her chest, absorbing his threats.  She feels her head twisted back by her braid of hair as she’s forced to continue to watch, horrified as her eyes become more accustomed to the only light in the dimly lit area.

       Body jerking, breasts bouncing, her friend’s almost performing a pathetic jig, struggling to balance on the tips of her toes as she’s continuously whipped from all angles on the uneven three legged wooden stool.  Jodi’s finally able to make out the room to be a dank, shadowy, torture chamber as she also makes out a single swaying rope stretching down from above Amanda’s arms, twisting from a block and tackle creaking from a rafter as she struggles.  The end of the rope’s tied to a short pair of bamboo shunts, formed into a crude “X” pressed behind her shoulders and uplifted elbows.  Another short rope binds her wrists up behind her neck to the bamboo.

       Tapping harshly on the glass, pushing a button on the wall, the clerk shouts thru an intercom.  “This one’s finally showed up.  Looking for her friend there with the big tits!  Wants her turn too, didn’t even recognize her on the video out front!  You believe that?”  Squeezing Jodi’s arms even tighter, and higher, he laughs, cackles.  The pair of men beside Amanda with the straps turns their heads in a single motion, stare back thru the glass, and nod.

       Her hair released, Jodi, heart pounding, panics, she can’t seem to be able to force herself to move.  Chest thumping, legs shaking, bordering on hyperventilating, she can’t take her eyes away from the site of her friend’s stripped body being abused, tortured, surrounded by the group of men… All muscular…  All naked!  Just like on some of the magazine covers she just passed!

       Their glistening muscles ripple as the pair continues to ignore her friend’s cries, pleadings while her naked body’s still being sadistically lashed by the hooded man to her front.

       She watches unbelievingly as a forth man steps out from the shadows, from behind Amanda, grabbing, twisting, squeezing her bulging breasts as she continues to pathetically struggle as the other two men lower their straps, step back a couple steps.  As he forces her bruised, melon sized globes to bulge outward, the strap again slices thru the air, centered horizontally back and forth across her uplifted nipples by the masked man.

       The intercom cackles as the clerk flips the switch back and forth.  “Thwack…. Thwack… Thwack… Thwack!”  “Aaaaaagggghhhhhhhhh!”  A piercing screech echoes, through the intercom as the clerk flicks the switch off and on as Amanda jerks, bucks, tries to twist away from the grip of the pair of fists.  “Thwack… Thwack… Thwack!!!”  Again the intercom’s flicked briefly on, off.  Again he sadistically laughs as he grips Jodi even tighter.

       The strap continues to flail across Amanda’s bulging, welt covered breasts in a steady back and forth rhythm, over and over.  She jerks, twists, grunts with each lashing as the stool wobbles under the balls of her quivering feet.  Jodi stares thru her tears, sensing her friend’s obviously on the verge of collapsing, until finally, mercifully, the insidious whipping subsides.

       The hooded man, perspiring, glistening, steps back a couple of steps, rests.  The man behind Amanda’s not finished.  Clenching one fist, flattening the other, he reaches around, below her armpits.  Centering himself, his arm muscles bulge as he begins to systematically punch, smack, punch at the sides of her bruised breasts, back and forth, up and down.  Like ripe melons, they flail, smack together from the sadistically placed punches, smacks, as she cries, begs, twists.  Her battered globes stretch, elongate, continuously bounce obscenely off the front of her heaving chest as he smiles while toying with her bruised melons.

       Enthralled, the clerk doesn’t even bother to turn on the sound of the intercom anymore, just watches intently as he grips Jodi’s arms even tighter while holding her head straight, toward the glass.  After at least a dozen painful blows, that phase of the punishment also comes to a halt.

       Relaxing his fists, the man reaches around Amanda’s sides, he’s still not done yet with her breasts.  Pinching her nipples tightly between his thumbnails and fingernails, tugging, stretching her breasts back past her armpits, he firmly holds them in place, the nipples stretched, twisted practically behind her back as her naked, sweat drenched body jerks.

       The hooded man steps forward, nods, examines the multiple red welts he’s administered to her swollen melons, all without breaking the skin.  Stepping toward her, he lowers the damp leather, slowly flexes it back and forth.  Still breathing heavy, his body sweating, he turns his head, faces the glass while peering evilly thru the slits of his sinister hood, nods.

The two other men with straps also turn and stare thru the glass partition towards Jodi.  Her heart pounds as her mind races.  The men obviously are focused on her now as they drop their straps, step toward the divider!  Their sweating muscles rippling, she stares at their swollen cocks, now hanging down, swaying as they methodically approach the door to her room.  Terrified, she begins to struggle in earnest as her arms remain twisted painfully up behind her back.

       “Door’s open, come on in.”  Jodi hears the voice behind her instruct the approaching men thru the intercom.  Still struggling, she feels another painful sensation.  A thin, hard draw-tie strap’s twisted roughly around her wrists by the clerk as he forcefully shoves her head down.

       Finally reacting with what force she can muster, Jodi blurts.  “Wha… Let me go!  What are you doing to…? Mumph!”  Twisting, bending, in pain, Jodi grunts as she feels a hard “O” ring being forced into her mouth, between her yawning lips, stretching her jaws painfully apart, stifling her.

       Head shoved down, she hears Amanda’s anguished cries once again mixed with the sinister swishing of the strap as the door opens.  She feels the gag’s strap being tied behind her neck as the horrendous flailing continues to ring in her ear.  “Swish… Smack!… Agghhh!…  Swish… Smack!… Swish.”

       “Listen!  Listen to her being punished, Cunt!”  The clerk blurts down toward Jodi’s ear as the sound of the whip smacking across Amanda’s bare flesh continues to echo thru both rooms.

       Stretching another tie-down across her elbows, he pulls it even tighter then the first.  Her breasts jaunt painfully outward, the left bulging thru her sheer bra and blouse, the right flipping out, over, bared.  “Now, lift your head.  Watch ‘em work her!”  He grunts, obviously hyped, as he pulls back on her long, dark braid of hair.  “He usually starts a bitch off with at least a hundred good hard strokes.  To get warmed up! Must be close to that by now!  Just with her tits!”

       Hair yanked back, head pushed forward, forced to stare out, straight ahead toward her bound friend yet again, she hears the door slamming shut, feels the other two men groping her, their hands running across her stomach, upward over her heaving breasts.

       “Imagine.”  The clerk grunts.  “ That could’ve been you getting that workout right now if you’d been the first one to show up instead of her!

       “Swish… Thwack…… “Aaaggghhh… Nooo!!… Swish… Thwack!…… Swish!”  The terrible sounds reverberate thru Jodi’s ears as the intercom’s again flicked on, then off.

       The man behind Amanda stands firm, both hands now squeezing, manipulating her bruised, discolored melons.  The hooded man with the strap continues working, continues to sadistically concentrate on punishing her.  Flicking the leather back and forth, he’s now directed his attention toward the front side of her hips, thighs, pubic mound.

       Jodi’s heart pounds, her mind can barely comprehend everything’s that’s happening.  Her own breasts, thighs, now being groped, manipulated, her flesh pinched, twisted, she can’t watch Amanda any longer.  Eyes darting away, she catches the site of the hooded man.  Locking her gaze onto him, her heart skips another beat.  His muscles flexing with each swing of the whip, his throbbing cock swaying back and forth, flinging sweat streaking down off his rippling body, presents a terrifying, dominant sight.

       She tries again, but can’t turn her head away as the clerk twists her hair ever tighter.  Terrified by the nightmarish scene in front of her, she continues staring wide eyed toward the sweating, glistening, hooded man punishing her friend, even as she feels her own bare breast melded, twisted, her other squeezed thru her stretching bra.

       The intercom cackles.  “Aggghhhhhh!… Gaaaaaad!!!”  More grunts, squeals cross the room as Amanda’s tortured body jerks from the strap smacking directly across the puffy folds of her labia, while the clerk plays with the button.

       Jodi’s eyes well up, she helplessly feels her flesh continuously probed, pinched.  She watches terrified, her friend sadistically punished, knowing she’s facing the same, if not worse.

       Amanda’s bruised right breast still bulges obscenely outward from between the squeezing fingers of the man standing behind her as Jodi watches her twisting, turning, pleading.  Her left breast, now free, continuously bounces and sways as the flexing leather repeatedly crisscrosses sadistically upward, between her jerking legs, disappearing between her quivering thighs, into her spread slit.

       Jodi feels hands now tearing, ripping at her own blouse.  Her shoulders already arched, she feels her chest shoved even further outward by the clerk gripping, jerking her arms behind her back as both breasts squeeze out over the edge of her torn bra.

       “Oomph!… Ahhh!… Agghhhh!”  Her own grunts, groans emit from her mouth gag as the material of the blouse, then the bra, are ripped completely away, completely exposing her global shaped, symmetrical breasts standing out off her heaving chest.

Jerking, twisting, the sounds, the cries, the constant slashing of the leather across Amanda’s naked flesh fade into the background of her own struggling cries.  She feels herself being bent backwards, lifted off the floor by her bare breasts, sadistically gripped, twisted by the clerk behind her, the other men continuing to tear, tug, now at her jeans.

       “Yea!  How’s it feel?”  The clerk grunts in her ear as he lifts.  “This is how I carried her back here.  Like I said, just like this, by her tits!”

       First her right then her left leg’s yanked from the pant legs as her body arches back.  Her shoes slide across the floor, leaving her only clothing, her matching thong panties dragged partially down across her thighs.  A final yank, rip, tear of that ruined material and she’s left completely naked as each man grabs at, spreads a leg, lifts her gruffly upward        

       The clerk grips, twists, squeezes her breasts even harder, ruthlessly pinches her nipples, continues to lift her up from behind as the other two men stretch her legs painfully apart, exposing her bare vagina.  She feels their throbbing cocks, oozing, dripping, slapping across her bare flesh as they carry, pull her thru the door, toward what appears to be a wooden saw horse on the edge of the shadows close to the slumping, now silent, Amanda, hanging limply by her arms.

       Jodi’s slid, straddled over the hard wood, forcing her long, slender legs painfully down across the rail.

       “Aggghhhhhh!”  The stark, slender wood rail jams between her tender flesh while crushing against her unprotected clit.  Her toes twitch; arch downward, scrapping, dangling to find the floor.

       Still twisting squeezing, pinching her breasts, the clerk lifts, centers, bounces her once, twice, a third time onto the rough hewed sawhorse.  The wood rail grinds painfully up against her puffy vulva, jams between the folds of her labia over and over until one of the men roughly grips, stretches, spreads her cuntlips apart, covering the sides of the rail with that sensitive, nearly transparent flesh.  Her bare clit’s flattened, roughly scrapped as she’s forced to painfully tiptoe.

       The men step back as Jodi faces precariously toward the podium, barely able to balance herself on her tiptoes with her wrists, elbows numbing, strapped painfully behind her back.

       The hooded man turns, the strap lowered, slowly steps toward her, smirks.  Their eyes meet, Jodi’s filled with tears.  He slowly, sinisterly lowers his eyes behind the narrow slits, stares momentarily toward her heaving breasts.

       She can’t help staring back at him as he approaches, tanned, muscular, and foreboding.  Her eyes gaze downward, below his rippling abs to his manhood, swaying, thick and hard…  And huge.  Her heart pounds.

       “She needs a couple lashings to start with.  Just across those perky nipples.”  He speaks, to no one in particular as he points with the flexing strap.  “Just the very tips!  Hold her still, her tits out toward me!  Way out!”

       The clerk smacks his hand across the small of Jodi’s back, pushes.  Her head jerks back as he twists her hair.  She feels her vagina grind against the rail as her torso’s forced to arch forward, her toes lifting off the floor.  Panicking, she glances over at Amanda’s naked body, quivering, barely swaying, crisscrossed with scores of bright red welts.  She realizes it’s her turn with the strap now!

       Squinting her eyes, she bows forward, reflexively tries to protect her bare breasts.  Leaning, arching downward, she tries to squeeze her shoulders forward, down toward the wooden rail scraping between her legs. Whimpering, saliva drooling out from the bright red “O” ring stretching at her mouth, she feebly tries to protect her breasts from the whip as her toes curl, twitch in mid air, unable to grip the floor as her clit grinds against the rough wood.

       The clerk tugs on her braid, jerks her head back.  She glares, terrified as the strap raises.  “Nooooooo!”

       Wide eyed she can only grunt thru the rubber “O” ring as her breasts bobble, hang down in front of her, her left nipple scrapping back and forth across the rail, the right one jiggling, unprotected, a perfect target for the leather.  “Swish… Thwack!…… Swish… Smack!”  “Aaaaggghh!…  Aggghhhhh!”

       Blurting out between the “O” ring, Jodi twists, jerks, bucks as the edge of the strap flicks once, hesitates, flicks again.  The clerk yanks her hair back harder, contorting, arching her naked body back, and thrusting her bare breasts forward.

Snapping across first her right then left areolas, her nipples sting, and burn from the tip of the dampened leather.  Her tanned breasts bounce, smack together as she tries to lean further downward toward the rail.  Her chest pounds, her breasts swaying as the flat leather strap leaves a pair of painful red welts across her tender flesh.  Tears flow down her cheeks, across her burning breasts.

       Lowering the strap, the hooded man turns, nonchalantly steps back toward the stool, toward Amanda, leaving Jodi whimpering, shaking.  Again he stops in front of the wobbly stool, positioning to continue her workout.

The tears streaking down Jodi’s cheeks mix with the saliva drooling from the corners of the drenched “O” ring.  Her breasts pulse, mixing with the pain between her legs from straddling the wood rail, splitting and filling the slit between her raw thighs as she continues to scrape for the floor with her toes, her hallowed stomach rippling.

       The man behind Amanda swipes an ammonia soaked cloth beneath her nose.  Her sweat drenched, glistening body trembles as she’s revived after the torment of her complete body workout.  Her head hangs down, scarf still tightly wrapped across her eyes.  Her swaying breasts, bruised, layered with red splotches, almost too many to count, heave with each rasping breath.  Her flattened stomach, also crisscrossed with bruised welts, quivers, her thigh, calf muscles ripple as she herself, again is forced to tiptoe precariously on the stool.

       “Like I said.”  The clerk, leaning over from Jodi’s left side, grunts toward her ear.  “ Her jugs are bigger then yours! But then, these ain’t so bad either, I guess.  Handled  the strap pretty good actually.”  He adds with a grin.  “Yea, solid, firm.  Nipples stand straight out, nice and thick!”  He smirks as he melds her aching flesh between his fingers.

Twisting her head away, her eyes squint as Jodi’s forced to listen as he continues to physically, verbally abuse her.

       Gripping, twisting her swollen left nipple between his forefinger and thumb he adds.  “Yea, look at that pair of nice red welts the strap left on these titties!”

       Arching upwards, she twists, turns her torso away, and moans as she feels her searing nipple tautly stretched between his fingertips.  Tears continue to fill her eyes, streak down her cheeks, mixing with mucus dribbling from her nostrils.  Saliva drools off her chin from between the “O” ring, glistens as it drips, all the fluids collecting between her heaving breasts, tracing down across her breastbone.

       “Oomph!… Ahhh!… Agghhhh!”  Grunting, trying to plead as he pinches, tugs, twists, she sways and leans away again.  Only her right foot barely touches the floor as the pain of the wood grinding between her raw thighs becomes almost unbearable.

       “Watch that, Bitch!  Look at her!  Pay attention to what they’re going to do now to those big ‘ol titties next!”  The clerk smirks as he continues to meld Jodi’s breasts between his clenching fingers, thumbs.

       The other men have positioned themselves again around Amanda, who’s still quivering in agony.  The hooded man with the strap lays it down by the stool, picks up a glistening, sinister appearing, and gleaming skewer.   He waits as the man behind her, grips, twists the base of her bruised right breast, forcing it to bulge obscenely outward yet again.

       “Agghhhh!” She whimpers, moans as she twists, quivering as she feels the sharp point of the four inch sparkling needle pressing against the outer side of her engorged nipple.  “Aggghhhhhh!!!”

       Jodi’s eyes widen, her heart pounds.  She can’t believe what she’s being forced to watch.  After briefly hesitating, the hooded man plunges the needle into, then completely thru Amanda’s swollen nub, from left to right.  A trickle of blood drips down across her breast, flicks across his finger and thumb.  Her naked body shakes, jerks as he releases the skewer.  Her breast swings free, the needle jiggles, glistens, tinged, chrisom in color.

       “Ohh Gaaaaddd!!!… Noooooo!!!… Nooooooooooooo!!!””  Grunting, crying, Amanda feebly shakes, twists on the stool.  Her pain wrecked breasts sway from side to side.  She reflexively jerks, shakes, unsuccessfully tries to flip the skewer out of, off from, her throbbing nipple as he steps around the stool, picks up another matching skewer.

       She feels her left breast being squeezed even tighter.  Like the other, the nipple’s forced to bulge outward.  The second skewer’s slipped across the taunt areola, its tip barely sinking into the side of the tender bud.  Again just a moment’s hesitation before she feels the “plop” of that needle ramming completely into, pushing, stretching the elastic nipple flesh in front of her bulging areola. “Plop!” “Aggghhhhhh!!!”  Another pitiful screech as she again twists, precariously jerks on the wobbling stool as the hooded man steps a couple steps backward, gives Jodi a clear view of her friend’s bouncing breasts, dripping, flicking blood off both impaled nipples.        

Jodi’s eyes fill with tears as she stares transfixed toward her friend’s tortured breasts, flailing, impaled by the tinged skewers.  Her own chest pounding, Jodi quivers as she feels her breasts still being manipulated, her own nipples pinched, tugged simultaneously by the clerk as he amuses himself while also watching, fascinated with Amanda’s agony.

       The man standing behind Amanda reaches around, continues her punishment.  Gripped, twisted, her right breast bulges, thrusts outward as the hooded man steps toward the stool, leans over, picks up a dark, medium sized, metal chain.  Manipulating the skewer impaling her blood stained breast, he slips its tip thru the end link, forces her bulging nipple thru the eyelet.  Painfully centering the skewer across the front of the link, he lets go, sadistically drops the chain.

       “Aaaggghhh!!!… Aaaggghhhhhhhh!!!”  Her breast jerks, tugs downward, the nipple bulging thru the metal link.  Held by the glistening skewer, the chain bounces, rattles, its bottom end swaying across her flexing navel as she grunts with each heaving breath.  “Agghhhh!!… Agghhhh!!… Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”  Bowing forward, her guttural screeches mix with the clinking of the swaying chain as both men immediately begin manipulating her left breast.  Roughly squeezing that impaled nipple thru the link of a matching chain, that skewer’s adjusted, that chain’s dropped.  She screams louder, hoarser, longer.  “Aaaggghhhhhhhhhhh!!!… Aaaaaggghhhhhhhh!!!”

The ends of the swaying chains jiggle and rattle together.  Her sweat drenched chest thrusts outward, her breasts hang down, stretching off her arched torso.  She grunts, whimpers, tries to relieve the pain on her tortured nipples by remaining motionless, to no avail.  Contorting into a serpentine position, she struggles from the pressure of the added weight swaying down off her chest.  Her nipples obscenely stretching, her naked, whip marred body quivers, glistens under the stark light.        

       Not done with her yet, the two other men step up; position themselves to either side of the stool.  Gripping her knees, they pull; tug them apart as she’s forced to tiptoe, bowlegged.  Her arms arch, her buttocks thrust back, her chest jaunts further outward.  The chains again rattle, painfully hanging off her nipples stretching further down off her bouncing, swaying breasts, brushing across her defined ribcage, flexing stomach.

       The man behind her steps closer, leans down, reaches around with his left hand, stretches her bare cuntlips apart between his thumb and forefinger.  The slit between her thighs widen as her clit’s fully exposed.  Sliding his right hand between her buttocks from behind, he reaches between her thighs, presses his fingertips roughly across the soft tissues of her wet slit, and grips the protruding nub.

       Moaning, whimpering, Amanda in her weakened state can only twitch as she feels his fingers pinching, twisting between her quivering thighs as the ends of the chains brush across her glistening hips.  The hooded man steps forward, reaches down, picks up another, slightly shorter skewer.

       Without hesitating he leans over, sadistically slides its tip horizontally against the center of her protruding clit, in a single motion, and shoves it completely thru.  “Aaaaaggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”  Twisting, jerking, a hoarse, she gurgles a guttural scream.  She’s forcefully held by her spread knees, stretched labia lips by the three men as she kicks, jerks, twists.

A third chain is manipulated, roughly fastened to that glistening skewer. The man slowly wraps the links together, lifts them above her navel, and sadistically releases it.  The chain’s end bounces, sways across her jerking knees.  “Aaaaggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”  Another curdling, rasping scream echoes thru the room as her naked body arches even further forward, her knees flexing, bending, from the agonizingly painful added weight of the clanking chain between her thighs.

       Releasing their grips simultaneously, the men step back, observe their work.  Amanda’s tortured body jerks, twists, contorts, her shaking knees remaining spread.  Her shoulders arch, the rope creaks, stretching above her,  tinges of blood mixed with her perspiration streaks off her chest, from her hallowed armpits, crisscrosses her naked body, drips onto the stool, down to the floor, mixed with traces of her blood dripping from her impalements.   The ends of the three chains clank and bounce, jangle out in front of her.

       Jodi’s heart pounds, tears streaking  from her reddened eyes as she’s transfixed at the sadistic display just a few feet in front of her.  Suddenly, she feels her own breasts firmly gripped as she’s arched upward, her nipples bulging as the clerk’s tightening fists squeeze, stretches both glistening melons toward her sides as he straddles the rail behind her.

       Twisted, pulled, and lifted even higher in his grip, the backs of her bound hands press against the sides of the raw wooden rail as he shoves his chest against her bound elbows and back.  Her vagina burns, grinds across the wood as the tips of her toes scrape frantically toward the floor.

       The hooded man remaining in front of Amanda reaches up, shoves a bright red “O” ring between her trembling lips.  Tying its straps behind her neck he quickly unties the black scarf covering her face.  Practically incoherent, slumping, she stares blankly thru glazed, swollen, tear filled eyes as he drops the scarf on the floor, picks up another set of chains.  Turning, he leaves her in her tormented state, steps toward Jodi.

       Leaning forward toward Jodi’s ear the clerk whispers as he continues to twist his fists firmly around her bulging breasts.  “Now it’s your turn Missy!  Time for these tits to get their due, you know, hang some chains off ‘em too!  Yea, that’s right!  Off your cunt too!”  Nodding toward the hooded man approaching them, he adds.  “See those fancier, connected chains?!  Right there in his hands, they’re just for you!”

       Stepping toward the rail, the hooded man stretches the ensemble of connected chains in front of him.  Holding out his hands he grips an “O” ring between each thumb and finger while letting the chain drop, sway down in front of his chest.

       Again Jodi’s teary eyes widen as she takes in their significance.  Glaring out over her painfully bulging breasts she realizes the chains hanging down in front of him are connected into a “Y” shape, with “O” rings clamped to the three ends.  It’s starkly obvious to her the purpose of the rings as he steps toward her, starring directly toward her swollen nipples. From the corner of her eye she catches a glimpse of the two other men step to either side of her, each with a skewer in hand!

       Panicking, nearly hyperventilating, Jodi’s naked body jerks, spasms.  Saliva drools from the corners of her stretched lips as she squirms, twists, bucks between their reaching arms as they close in.  Glaring back and forth at the gleaming skewers, she feels, watches her breasts bulge, thrust further out as the grip on them squeezes, lifts.  Her puffy, tan nipples twitch, pulse with each thumping heartbeat in her heaving chest.  She can only hold her breath, watch in horror as the light reflects off the razor sharp tips of the instruments as they’re sadistically slid back and forth across the rounded curves of her ballooning, discoloring breasts.

       Panicking, she squints her eyes, takes a breath as she senses the sharp points scrapping, probing, centered against the tender flesh of the outside edges of her twitching nipples.  She senses the sharp tips barely sinking into her tender flesh, pricking, but not yet quite piercing her skin.  She bites her lip, not to scream.  Her stomach muscles flex, her abs ripple as the hooded man points a third skewer toward the nub of her clit as he tugs it out from between her cuntlips with his finger and thumbnail.  Her eyes again open, widen, staring directly into the narrow slits of the black hood.  He stares back, without a blink.  Slowly, firmly he pushes the pointed tip across his thumbnail, against the edge of her engorged clit.

       He breaks the silence.  “On three!”  Nodding, he orders.

Drenched in perspiration as her heart thumps in her chest, she begins to spasm on the rail as she’s held, stretched by her breasts, clit.  Hideous thoughts scramble thru her mind as she feels all three sharp tips probing against her most tender flesh.  She can’t allow herself to fathom the imminent, even more terrible pain she’s about to undergo.  The vision races thru her mind of being impaled with the skewers, the chains implanted on her tortured body, hanging off her, just like Amanda’s.

       “One!…………….Two!”  He slowly counts as he pressures the needle against her stretched clit.

       Arching, whimpering, she slobbers thru the bright red “O” ring.  She can’t help from turning her head, glancing one more time at her nearly incoherent friend hanging, slumping precariously forward on the stool in front of her, staring blankly back.  Jodi briefly stares into her friend’s dazed eyes, lowers hers, focuses on the metal chains hanging, swaying from those whip marred breasts, her obscenely stretched clit.

       “Three!!!! “Aaaaaaggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”  Jodi’s body jerks up off the rail, bounces, twists back and forth.  She screams, then slumps, barely conscious as her naked body spasms uncontrollably.  The skewers glisten, their points tinged with her blood as they’re slid thru her soft flesh.  The men release her swaying breasts, grip, hold her legs firmly apart as the clerk tugs on her hair, aches her shoulders back against his chest.

       The hooded man reaches for a hand size spreader tool.  Holding the “O” ring swaying off the bottom of the chain, he spreads the shinning metal loop apart.  Reaching between her spread thighs he passes the skewer thru her throbbing clit, slipping the tip of the ring into the fresh, oozing hole.  Adjusting the now chrisom colored ring he releases the spreader tool’s handle, lets the ring spring back into its perfect circle, impaling her clit.

       The men release her legs; let the hard wooden rail again jam up between her thighs.  Her head remains tilted and back against the clerk’s shoulder as the two men grip the base of her breasts. Tugging, twisting them apart, the hooded man unmercifully slips the skewer out of her left nipple. Using the spreader tool for the second time, he mounts another “O” ring into that bleeding hole.  The chain hangs down, sways across her glistening chest, he turns his attention to her right breast.

       Lifting the chain, holding the third “O” ring, he jerks the final skewer out, spreads the “O” ring, and slips it thru the bloody flesh.  Satisfied with the mountings, he nods toward the men.  Letting go, they step back as the chains hang from her nipples, brush across her flexing abs, the bottom chain stretching upward from her tugged clit.  The two men step beside the clerk as he snaps a capsule, waves it under her nostrils.  She jerks, twists, sits slumped back against him, tears streaking down her cheeks, saliva dripping off her chin onto her heaving chest as she regains consciousness.

       The clerk shoves her head forward, her chin nearly touching her sternum.  Now alert, she’s forced to stare down across the front side of her tortured body.  Her heart again races as she stares at the hardware impaling her aching flesh.  She glares helplessly toward the chains rattling, swaying, forming a “Y” while dangling out in front of her firm, global shaped breasts, dragging downward on her swollen nipples, attached to the ring in her ravaged clit.

       Feebly tilting her head to the side, she stares in a daze toward her friend as their glazed eyes lock.  The room’s virtually silent with the exception of their rasping moans, the rustling of the sets of chains hanging from their naked bodies.

Jodi feels herself arched back as the clerk twists and pulls on her bound arms from behind.  She feels the painful swaying, the weight of the chains hanging off the front of her bare chest as the two other men twist her legs apart once again.  She doesn’t even have the strength to resist as a pair of tall, black stiletto boots are slipped up over her feet, tugged over her knees until the top of the leather stretches around her spread thighs.  Lifted across the rail by her arms and boots, she’s stood next to the sawhorse, held upright, barely able to stand on her own.  One of the men kneels, clips a short chain from the ankle of one stiletto to the other.

       The clerk stands behind her, balancing her as her toes and feet point nearly straight downward in the eight inch heels.  Chest thrust out, buttocks pushed back, the chains stretch tautly from her swollen nipples to her tugged clit.  Her breasts partially flatten, lift above her ribcage with each halted breath as perspiration beads, streaks down across her glistening bare flesh.

       Continuing to work on her, the men cut the draw-ties from her wrists and elbows while keeping her arms pressed firmly together behind her back.  Quickly sliding a black leather single bondage sleeve across her arms from behind, he stretches, squeezes, twist until her shoulders to bow hideously back.  She feels the extreme pressure as they creak, throb with each tightening of the leather bindings.

       Grunting, moaning as she’s manipulated, her breasts jerk, bounce, thrust obscenely outward and apart, stretching, and lifting the chains, tugging at her stretched clit.  The added discomfort of her shoulders just adds to the overwhelming pain.  The men finally finish binding the straps, twist her around in a complete circle, and inspect their work.

       The clerk, gripping her shoulders, forces her to step forward in miniscule steps.  “Time to let you model out there on that vacant podium!  Get you set, almost time to re-open!”  He whispers in her ear as he shuffles her toward the door to the front of the shop.  “You can give Eve out there some company for awhile!  You met her a few minutes ago!  Actually, you’re going to look a lot like her!  Your ass mounted just like her’s on that thick metal dildo.  Then later, you’ll be used just like her!!!”

       Heart pounding, feeling light headed, almost in a daze, she realizes that the mannequin out there is actually a real woman!… Oh God!…This must be a nightmare!  She’s forced to shuffle past the stool with her friend staring hazily down toward her.  Whimpering, quivering, Amanda’s tortured body glistens as she continues her own struggle to maintain her balance on the stool.  The swaying chains hanging off her breasts brush across Jodi’s right shoulder, painfully catching against the chain impaling Jodi’s right nipple.

       “Don’t want those titties all twisted up together… Now do we?”  The clerk smirks as he jerks, twists, flicks Amanda’s chains across, past Jodi’s shoulder as he shoves her past the stool.  “Keep going.”

       Barely hearing Amanda’s groans as her breasts stretch, bounce, Jodi hobbles past, heart pounding, envisioning the other side of the wall.  She feels the chains tugging at her nipples, stretching her clit as she’s pushed past the stool, thru the doorway as one of the men swings it open.  Beyond the door, once again the bound mannequin instantly catches Jodi’s attention, the silver pole between her thighs, the torture devices on the tray.  And, Jodi can see a tear streaking down from the mask, she is a live woman!

Jodi feels herself twisted by her arm restraint while dragged toward the vacant podium.  Her eyes widen as she stares at one of the men on the podium rubbing a glob of salve over, around a huge, thick phallus tip mounted on the top of the bare, silver pole.        Heart racing, she realizes that shaft will certainly ram past her belly button!  She feels her calves, knees gripped, her legs spread, lifted from behind as again her breasts are grabbed, twisted by the clerk.  Hoisted horizontally onto the podium, her breasts stretch, the chains tugging, rattling, twisting across her bare flesh.  The three men position themselves around the pole, position her.

       The clerk stands to the front, hoists her up by her twisted, discolored breasts, the stretched chains tearing at her clit while the other two men stand to either side, their hands, fingers digging into her butt cheeks, centering her hips.  Tears streak down from her glazed eyes, saliva drools off her chin as she feels herself wheezing, unable to breath, her heart beating thru her chest, the tip of the monstrous dildo grinding between her spreading thighs as she tries her hardest to keep them squeezed together.

       “Oooohhh!… God nooooo!… Nooooo!!!!”  Stifled pleas gurgle thru the “O” ring as her butt cheeks brush down over the shaft, now pushing up at her rectum.  She feels herself being slowly lowered by the multiple hands gripping her thighs, breasts as she struggles, squirms.

       Firmly twisting her bulging melons, the clerk grins as he guides her naked, shaking body perfectly over the shaft as the other two men center the puckered ring of her anus directly against the very tip of the dildo.  Her bound ankles slowly slide downward behind the pole, pressing, scrapping together, the thin ankle chains rattling.

       “Not in your pussy!”  The clerk grins.  “Saving that hole for something else!”  She hears him add as the thick, greased shaft stretches, engorges her rectum.

       Breasts pulsing, the rim of her anus tearing, clit ripping, she grunts moans, cries, begs as she slowly slides downward.  As the other men release her legs, her bound ankles jerk, twist against the slippery pole with her stilettos heels still well above the floor.  The clerk smiles as his hands griping her breasts continue to slowly lower, letting her squirming body gravitate toward the platform.

       Feeling the head of the thick, hard dildo encompassing her stretching rectum walls, she squeezes, still presses her thighs frantically together.  As she continues to slide ever so slowly down the shaft, the pain of her tortured breasts being manhandled, her ravaged clit stretching, become surreal, she doesn’t want him to let go, to drop her.

       Just as she feels the tip of the huge round head of the dildo pressure her womb, her stilettos touch, scrap the floor.  Even with the pain in her stretched anus, she actually feels a sense of relief, or at least, respite.

       The clerk releases his grip, is handed a black silk eye mask.  Slipping it across her eyes, he binds it behind her neck, takes a step back, is handed a container of dark jell.  Dipping his fingers into the container, globing a handful across her thrust out breasts, he coats it across her thighs, back up and under the tautly stretched chains crossing her stomach.  Rubbing, melding, sliding his fingers across the entire front side of her naked body, slipping a couple fingers knuckle deep into her spread vagina, he applies the jell as it liquefies into a shimmering, even coating that appears wax like. Smearing the solution across her face; he spreads it evenly across her cheeks, forehead and chin.

       Again taking a step back he cups her firm, melon sized breasts, spreads them apart with the palms of his hands, adjusts the chains on the left nipple “O” ring, the right nipple “O” ring, finally centers the chain tugging upward from her clit “O” ring.  Satisfied, he steps back, off the podium with the other two men.  She’s left mounted, standing, arching, squirming, barely inches from being impaled, frantically tiptoeing on the floor as the chains quiver out in front of her glistening body.

       Tilting her head slowly forward, downward, between the swelling curves of her quivering, thrust out breasts, she glances back and forth thru the mask, her eyes surreally following across the chain, flexing, stretching between the glistening “O“ rings impaling her tautly stretched nipples, practically pointing in opposite directions.  The bottom chain disappears from her eyesight, curving downward across her bellybutton, over her shaved pubic mound, up into her stretched slit, tugging at her clit with each halting breath as she feels the strange sensation of the jell hardening.

       The men in turn, slowly walk toward the door, still watching her with interest as she moans thru the bright red “O“ ring stretching her lips, trembling, perspiration streaking off her bare flesh, her pubic mound glistening, cuntlips spread apart, the nub of her clit visibly twitching, stretching upward, embedded by its chained ring.  They’re satisfied that she’ll now be presentable to the other members this evening.  Firmly mounted, chained, the shaft deep up her rectum, she’s now virtually the match of Eve, beside her.

       Re-entering the torture room, approaching Amanda, two of the men unfasten the rope hanging from the ceiling down to the crossed bamboo shunts behind her neck.  The clerk grips her thighs as they lower her to the floor.  Kneeling, he loosely binds a rope loosely around her bare ankles as the chains sway, jingle from her front side.

Barely cognizant, Amanda sways and stagers.  The men to either side of her take a step back, the clerk gripping the chain stretching out from between her thighs.  Opening the door, they slowly lead her by her stretching clit into the shop, stopping between the podiums.  Twisting her around, the clerk tugs her chain as he reaches up, pinches Jodi’s clit ring, twisting it with his free hand. “Aggghhhhhh!!!… Ohhhhh!!!”  Both women grunt simultaneously as the clerk sadistically twists, jerks.

       Their eyes instantly locking thru their tears, Jodi stares down from her painful mount.  Amanda’s bruised, battered and pain wrecked, but still conscious enough to feel her heart skip a beat as she stares up at Jodi’s unimaginable predicament. Staring toward the other podium, at the other mounted victim, they both appear from a distance to be wax figures!

       “Well girls, listen up!  I need your attention.”  The clerk scoffs.  “You’ll both be glad to know you both passed our auditions.  Actually, you already seem to be stars for our company!”

       Again tugging at both their clit rings simultaneously, he adds.  “Everything so far this afternoon’s been broadcast over our exclusive web site to our preferred customers.  You’re be proud to know we’re receiving record reviews, and, unbelievable requests on what to do to you tonight!”

       Grabbing, twisting Amanda’s right breast, the clerk spins her around to face the other podium, lifts her onto her tiptoes as the chain rattles off her swollen nipple.  “Okay bitch!”  He scolds.  “You’ll take Eve’s place beside your friend soon enough!  You recognize her don‘t you? Remember?  You met her when we dragged you back here earlier!”

       Glancing up toward Eve he adds.  “Yea, she’s going to earn her reprieve from the mount soon! Just a couple or so more hours before we auction her off!”

       Again twisting Amanda to face toward him, he runs his hands up the outer curves of her trembling body, her thrust out breasts, as her arms remain crisscrossed behind her neck.  Smiling, squeezing, he manipulates her glistening flesh, stares into her eyes.  “But, for now, right now, you’re our sex slave for tonight!  A willing sex slave for the clients!  All this evening!  Fucking, sucking, pleasuring us anyway we want!  Without hesitation, or be punished even more then you already have.  Much more severely!  All on closed circuit video too!”

       Glancing up above the pair of podiums, he nods toward the red lights directed toward the impaled women as he squeezes both of Amanda’s breasts between his tightening fists.  “On video like those two are right now!”  He instructs.  “Seems some of our more important members are already on line, watching.  They’re intrigued by these tits of yours though!”  He grunts as he gives another twist.  “Wants to see them worked some more, even harder.  Punished even harder!  Also, a lot more welts across your pussy and ass!  So, we’ll do all that, later tonight!  Before you’re mounted up there with your friend after Eve’s auction!

       Amanda’s eyes dart back and forth, the left podium, the right podium, his eyes, Jodi’s starring eyes.  Moaning, grunting, her pain wrenched breasts are twisted, stretched.   She whimpers thru her ballgag.  “Ohhh God!… Ohhh God no!!!… Please!… Ohhh no!!…  Noooo!!!”

End Part One                         

FEDISH VIDEO INC.                        Chapter Two                                Motionless, rigid, Jodi’s stiff body raises above the shop’s floor, facing directly up the aisle with a clear view toward the front entrance, the door locked, the shade drawn.  For the past forty three minutes her darting eyes have watched the door open, close sporadically as the clerk locks, unlocks it.  He’s allowed an exact assortment of nine men, six women to enter the store, all led out of her view to what seems to be another room behind the counter that he maintains his vigilance from.                                She can count the minutes, the people coming in.  After all, she has nothing else to do, except watch the sweeping hand on the huge, old style wall clock hanging up above the left side of the store’s door.                                Whatever they smeared her bare, naked flesh with, whatever part of her wasn’t bound, clamped, is now just as immobile.  The latex type solution has hardened, encasing her to the point of presenting her body’s appearance as that of a mannequin, not unlike what must be the twin to her on the other podium, beside her.                                There’s no feeling in her arms, stretched back, behind her in the single sleeve.  Even her impaled anus seems numb, even though she’s sure she can just barely feel the globed, thick tip of the shaft between her thighs scraping the walls of her uterus.   Her spread legs are stiff, encased in that same solution, her thighs, calves past the point of burning, her toes pointing virtually straight down, in the stiletto heels.                                The only constant physical pain she continues to be annoyed with is caused by the erratic swaying and jiggling of the chains clamped to the impaling “O” rings stretching her raw, freshly pierced nipples and clit.                                She’s quickly learned each breath causes her chest to swell, likewise to contract when she exhales, as her squeezed ribcage and stomach may as well be wrapped in an hour glass corset.                                It seems the only part of her flesh still subtle are her breasts, still somewhat flexible, at least enough to spread, flatten, stand out again as the weight of the taut chains flex off her spread nipples, lifting, lowering across her twin mounds, crisscrossed with the drool of her saliva dripping out from the bright red “O” ring in her mouth, stretching her lips.  Again, all in rhythm with her breathing.                                It’s been forty-seven minutes… Not forty-six… Not forty-eight… No give or take… She finds herself thinking, her mind almost gaudy, this whole situation surreal, as she finds herself watching the bent, black second hand, even to the point of waiting for it to flick, jerk, each time it swings down past the “6” before starting it’s travels back toward the top, as if it’s giving itself an extra boost to make that endless trip one more time.                                Again the buzzer sounds, she lowers her eyes, glancing toward the front entrance as she can also hear it being tapped on, watches as the clerk steps off the counter, glances thru the shade on the window as he lifts it, lowers it before opening the door.                                She watches as a well dressed, actually overdressed couple enter, most assuredly out of place compared to the others.  The door is quickly shut, locked again as the clerk greets them.                                The woman’s attractive, in only what could be described as in an arrogant style, not yet middle aged, but not quite as young as she’s willing to accept.  Seemingly more animated, stepping past the clerk, glancing around, doing an obvious double take as she glances down the aisle, Jodi seems sure the woman’s starring directly toward her as the clerk and the gentleman seem to be in some sort of discussion.                                Watching, helplessly watching, Jodi’s now certain the woman’s attention is on her, as the three of them finally turn, start down the isle together, the woman pointing, nodding, pointing again in her direction while in what has become a heated discussion with the clerk.                                As they close in, Jodi can barely begin to hear the discussion, actually some sort of negotiation it seems, with the clerk trying to explain something.                                Watching thru the corner of her eye, squinting, struggling, barely able to just twist, crane her head toward her right, she can almost catch their images as they move about between the pair of podiums, speaking back and forth.                                “But, I keep telling you! They’re not up for auction yet, we just got them today!”  It’s the clerk’s familiar voice as he adds.  “Eve’s going on the block tonigh….”                                The woman’s voice cuts in, abruptly, curtly.  “We’re not interested in Eve at the moment, actually, we want both of… Of the…”                                Silence, complete silence for a couple seconds.  The woman, stepping closer toward Jodi’s side, her voice now not so stern, crisp, continues.  “But… But you know, maybe I… We… We would settle for just this one here, Jodi… Is it?”                                Jodi can feel the chains being dragged down across her breasts, tugging at her nipples, the woman’s hand just in view as she’s speaking, her fingers manipulating.                                “As soon as we turned on the closed circuit screen today.”  Jodi hears the man’s voice, for the first time, almost soothing, calm.  “ Saw the pair of ‘em, we both decided, almost instantly that we’d probably enjoy training them ourselves, for once!   And she…”                                “Actually…”  The woman rudely cuts in again, even sterner, while stepping out of view.  “ As soon as he saw this one, while we were getting dressed for tonight’s session,  is it Jodi or Jobi?  Oh well, anyway!”  She continues.  “When you pounded her on that wooden pony, his erection went thru his robe!  Christ sake!! We fucked like rabbits!!  Then, then he couldn’t wait to get here tonight knowing she was being mounted up there.  Like Eve there!  I just knew he’d end up having me buy her for us!”                                Jodi’s eyes dart back and forth, staring thru the confounded mask.  Listening, her heart pounding, the chains jiggling, stretching from her nipples, her breasts jerking as she struggles to control her breathing, she’s barely able to grasp how all of this is possible!  She sees the clerk stepping in front of her, reaching up, gripping her left breast, holding it steady under the twitching chain.                                “She does have a nice rack!  Look how those big, firm titties bounce!”  He smirks, smacking the right one with the palm of his hand, turning his head away from her, toward the couple.  “Actually she’s got the better body overall then her friend!  And, beautiful!  Wait till you get a glimpse of her face in person!”  He gloats, slipping his hand back around her thrust out left globe, also giving it a flick with his backhand as he steps out of view.                                “Better then Eve,  huh?”  Jodi hears the woman’s voice, all three again mingling between the podiums.                                “You’ve seen Eve, all of her, more then a few times.”  The clerk chimes in with a chuckle.  “She really looks good!  Yea, but not better then her, actually though, we were certain you’d be taking Eve with you tonight!”                                Jodi’s eyes lower, able to catch a glimpse of the back of the woman’s jet black hair as she steps in, then out of view, silent for a moment, then turning, stepping directly in front of the podium.  For the first time, looking down between her having breasts, she sees the woman’s face up close, their eyes locking, as looking up, the woman reaches up, cups both palms under the thrust out, pair of naked globes, saliva dripping from Jodi’s chin, across the quivering right nipple.                                Gently squeezing, melding, still staring directly into the glassy brown eyes behind the black mask’s narrow slits, all four eyes remain locked together as the woman comments, raising her voice.  “My God! They’re real, aren’t they?!!”  Finally turning her head, she glances toward the man.  “Damn! You should come over here and feel these!  Look how they still stand straight out, even with the weights of these chains!  My God! Unbelievable! What it must be like to be twenty again!  I swear!  Mine cost twenty grand and these are fuller, firmer! They’re just like grapefruits!!!”                                Humiliated, literally frozen in place, Jodi can only stare thru her welling tears as she feels her breasts manipulated, nipples, areolas, the outer sides, inner sides, her pierces oozing, stinging from the twitching chains dragging off the “O” rings.                                “We do really need to settle this!”  The woman, dropping her hands, letting the chains rattle, wiping some of Jodi’s saliva from her fingers, turns toward the clerk, now also in view, standing in the aisle, the clock visible over his right shoulder.                                Again a moment or two of silence as Jodi finds herself reflexively glancing straight ahead, over his shoulder, toward the clock.  Fifty-five minutes… She can’t help thinking to herself, even as she realizes how insane it all is.                                “How ‘bout this?”  Jodi hears the man’s voice break the silence.  “How about we take Jodi, here.   And… And also Eve?”                                Another quiet spell, again the man’s voice.  “That way, that way Eve’s handled.  And… And you’ll still have the other one, the really big tittied one!  What’s her name?  Amanda?   For tonight’s session?”                                “Hum!”  The woman’s voice again chimes in.  “You know, I have kind of grown fond of Eve.  She’s a quick healer.  And really,  I think she has kind of learned her place.  Seems to accept most of her sessions well!  And, we’d just have this one here to really break in!  That could be fun!”                                Again Jodi’s mind’s almost numb as she listens.  Everything’s so crazy, unbelievable, it all has to be a nightmare, some kind of sick joke that’s gone way too far, surely!                                “Okay.  If we can work out the monetary arrangement.”  The clerk now negotiates.   “You’re take both of ’em tonight?  Let me see!”                                Glaring out from the slits in her mask, Jodi sees the couple stepping in front of her, the clerk walking down the aisle, away from them.                                Again directing her hands up across the chains, “O” rings, the woman asks the man.  “You going to give ’em a try now?”  Eyes lowering, she whispers.  “Ohh!  That first?”                                Feeling pressure between her thighs, Jodi twitches, feeling fingers probing her gapping slit, pressing against the membrane separating her vagina walls from the thick shaft impaling her anus.                                “Tight?”  The woman’s voice softly asks, even as she’s gently manipulating the melons in her roving hands.                                “Yes!… Yeh!”  Jodi hears the man’s response, his fingers sliding inward, stretching the folds of her labia lips, his thumb clipping across the chain, “O” ring stretching at her clit.  “Two, three fingers tight.  Damn!”                                Breasts being massaged, her vagina being stroked, Jodi, unable to resist if she wanted to, her mind overloaded, barely pays attention to the clerk stepping back between the couple, holding up a white piece of paper.                                “Yes!  That’s for both?  Right?  Ohh well, okay.  What do you think dear?  Want them?  Like I even have to ask you!”  The woman insolently smiles, as he glances at the paper, nods his head in obvious approval.                                All three stepping back, turning, begin walking back up the aisle, the woman in the lead.  The man slips his arm over the clerk’s shoulder, grins.  “We knew you’d drive a hard bargain, but we’ve already prepared more funds then that for transfer!”  He quips.  “You have the information necessary to complete the transaction… Package ’em up!”                                Their voices fading, Jodi can only stare at the backs of their heads.  Her breasts, vagina aching, her mind almost blank, the rest of her body’s stiff, frozen in place.  As they turn, walk past the counter, she peers over their shoulders.  Fifty-nine minutes… The number burning thru her mind as she watches the clock on the wall.                                                         

FETISH VIDEO INC.

Chapter Three.                                         

       Gradually, regaining consciousness, Jodi finds herself curled crosswise on a bunk in a small cell like room.  A single light glaring down from the ceiling reflects off the whitewashed walls causing her to squint, shield her eyes as she raises an arm above her head as she becomes more coherent.  Chilled, realizing she’s completely naked, scrubbed clean of the chemical coating, her hair tightly wrapped behind her head, she’s beset by the sensation of the weight of the chains hanging off the front of her shivering chest as she subconsciously slips her fingers across the “O” rings, feeling the cold, hard metal impaling her aching nipples.

       The dread of her predicament overwhelms her as she realizes she’s not awakening from a nightmare.  Nauseated, head aching, glancing down across her naked body, besides the obvious bruises, welts layered across her bare flesh, the only other remnants of yesterday’s sadistic experience are those chains connecting to the metal rings impaling the still raw pierces of her breasts and clitoris.

       Continuing to press the chains against her breasts with one hand, she reaches down with the other, tugs the “O” ring piercing her clitoris.  The pain jolts between her thighs, her heart pounding; she jerks again, tearing at her clit, the pain excruciating.  Frustrated, realizing the ring’s permanently affixed in that piercing, reaching for the nipple rings, grunting, she yanks and twists.  “Aaagghhh!”  The rings tear at her nipples, blood oozing from the still raw wounds as she turns, pounds the bunk with her fists, the chains dragging her breasts downward, scraping across her bare flesh.

       Glancing toward the walls, she notices a bolted, secured door with an open, barred portal, the only access to the room.  Quickly jumping up, her equilibrium’s off as she instantly squats back onto the cot, fresh pain searing inside her rectum, bringing back the insidious memory of the thick phallus she was mounted on.  Crossing her arms over her aching breasts, fingering the “O” rings, twisting the chains in her fingertips, frustrated, she grips her knees up against her chest, huddles against the wall, again contemplating ripping them off.

       Cold, naked, her body aching all over, she slowly rocks back and forth as she lowers her head, tears streaking off her cheeks.  Curling into a somewhat fetal position, atrocious thoughts flash through her head.  The beating, pierces, the bondage, impaling, the forced pose on the platform, all resonate in her tortured mind as she curls even tighter, feeling the weight of the damn chains rattling, hanging down off her bare chest.

       Hearing voices in the hallway, the lock on the door rattling, she twists, turns away, her head scraping against the wall as the door swings open behind her.

       “So, you’re awake.”  The female voice echoes in the small room along with a man’s footsteps approaching from behind.

       Still curling, Jodi feels hands gripping her arms; lifting her up off the cot.  Forced to stand, facing forward, staring into the stern eyes of an obvious Dominatrix dressed in black leather, Jodi instantly realizes she’s facing the woman who bargained for her at the video store.  Her arms twisted behind her back, forced to lean forward, the weight of the chains tug at her clit, swaying breasts as her arms are forced together, wrapped into a black leather bondage sleeve by a shirtless, muscular man behind her.

       The woman grips the “Y” of the chains, twisting them in her fist, tugs at Jodi’s aching breasts.  “Well Jodi, you’re now at home.  Actually you’ve been here since yesterday.  We’ve let you sleep after we scrubbed and shaved you down first.”

       As the sleeve is fastened, snapped shut, starting down from her wrists up to the back of her arched shoulders, the woman continues speaking.  “Just a couple quick things to get straight, then its time to prepare you.  First, from now on you’ll answer to simply, Slave, of course unless I care to address you as Jodi.  Second, you will always show respect and address me as Mistress, and obviously my other half as Master.  Any deviation will be severely punished.”

       Without waiting for a reply, tugging on the chain, the Mistress turns, leads Jodi out of the cell into the hallway, stretching her nipples out from her aching breasts.  The man silently follows close behind as stumbling along, Jodi tiptoes on the balls of her feet trying to keep her balance.  The hallway’s dark, foreboding, the stone floor’s hard on her bare feet as she’s forced to shuffle along.

       Toward the end of the hall, a large oak door swings open, the room brightly illuminated as the Mistress practically drags her through the entryway, past a second bare chest, muscular man holding the door.  Quickly glancing around, it’s obvious to Jodi it’s a fully equipped torture chamber.  To her sickening horror, she’s led toward a naked woman being tortured, her head hanging back across an identical black leather single bondage sleeve as her glistening body’s slowly twisting in a circle, a pair of leather covered clamps disappearing into her swollen breasts, connected to chains stretching up through pulleys mounted on a rafter.

       “I see you can’t take your eyes off your counterpart, slave.”  The Mistress smiles as she slides her hands between the hanging woman’s buttocks and bondage sleeve, gives her a gentle push, spinning her slowly around.  “She’s Eve, the other girl we purchased along with you.  Actually, once we cleaned you two girls up, she looks strikingly like you!”  Glancing back and forth, she continues.  “We took the chains off her “O” rings while we hang her by her tits.”  Giving another gentle spin, she continues.  “We started with her early this morning, gave her the same instructions, and would you believe, she forgot to address me as Mistress almost immediately!”

       Reaching up, patting a swollen globe as she glances into Eve’s tear filled eyes, untying, sliding the red ball gag from her mouth, she scolds.  “But, don’t worry, her attitude’s being corrected!  Isn’t it slave!”

       “Ohh, yes, yes Mistress, I’m sorry!  Mistress!  Mistress!”  Eve distraughtly whines, saliva drooling from her lips as she slowly twists in a lazy loop. “Oh God Mistress, please, please, let me down!”

       Glancing toward Eve’s bulging breasts as the front side of her naked body slowly circles past, then glancing back toward Jodi, the Mistress adds.   “You know, I’ve got a feeling your big ‘ol titties will be getting this same exact treatment real soon!”  Sliding the gag back up into Eve’s mouth, tying it behind her neck, she continues.  “Actually, we’ve found out these chained clamps are just about the best corrective devices we’ve come across.  It seems most women just don’t like being hanged by their tits!  It just becomes really uncomfortable after a while, I guess”

       Reaching out, grabbing Eve by an arm, the Mistress straightens her, holds her still. “Look at this, just this morning we tattooed her name right across her bald pubic mound, nice and low, right down above her pussy lips, her clit ring!”  Staring down between the swaying slave’s thighs, Jodi’s eyes widen as she reads the thick block letters “EVE” in black ink tattooed across the reddened, obviously irritated, swollen bare flesh.

       Reaching up with her other hand, the Mistress slides her fingernails across the smooth surface of a tautly swollen, purplish areola, tweaks the familiar “O” ring piercing the nipple’s thickened nub.     “Goodness, looks like that tit’s ready to burst, huh?  Feels like it too!”  Glancing back and forth between her two slaves, she sarcastically continues.  “Well, only another half hour or so to hang there.  Guess we’ll be finding out, huh?”

       Giving another spin, letting go, she steps toward Jodi as Eve sways in the chains, rotates behind her.  Smiling, sliding her fingers under Jodi’s connected chains, the Mistress tugs back, jerks both nipples upward.  “Yes, dear, I’m sure we’ll be able to fit those clamps around these nice big titties of yours too, won’t we?”  Giving a light tug, she sarcastically adds.  “But then, at least these will come off for awhile.”

       The pain of her own breasts being tugged is barely noticeable as Jodi stands silently beside the Mistress, unable to take her eyes off the hanging slave’s body spinning slowly around under the swaying chains, her breasts bulging, discolored, the fresh tattoo.  Terrified, knowing those same chains will be used to stretch her breasts sends shivers up her spine as she watches Eve’s head hanging back, tears streaking off her cheeks, her arms wrapped behind her back, her body taut, her toes stretching, pathetically clawing, barely  inches above the floor.

       “Jodi, Jodi!”  The Mistress jerks at the chains again, ripping at Jodi’s nipples.

       “Oomph!”  Grunting, Jodi hazily glances toward the Mistress, still enthralled by the sight of those ballooning breasts stretching straight upwards.

       “Snap too, enough of this.”  The Mistress scolds.  “We don’t want to waste time with just her getting all the attention, now do we?”

       Turning, the Mistress continues to grip the chains across the front of Jodi’s naked breasts.  Tugging, again painfully stretching her nipples, she leads her across the room to an old fashioned wooden stock; the pair of men standing to either side, both dressed only in black leather pants and boots, one swinging the top of the stock open while the other steps toward its front side.

       “Here, turn around.”  The Mistress commands as she jerks the chains, twists Jodi around by her flailing breasts, “Put your head back.”

       The back of Jodi’s neck’s forced down into the bottom curve of the wooden slot by the man as he twists, bows her backwards, slams the crossing frame of the top half of the stock shut.

       Jodi feels her body twisted, turned, arching backwards as her feet are spread, forced into slots along the bottom of the stock’s frame.  Staring upward toward the ceiling, the wooden slats of the stock obscures her view of the manipulation of her body.  She can feel the chains rattling, stretching, spreading across her thrust out torso as her ankles scrap against their wooden confinement.  The end of the single bondage sleeve’s stretched back, tied to the bottom of the stock’s post, wrenching her arms further back as she feels her breasts thrusting even further outward and upward, the nipple ”O” rings stretched by the taut chain across her chest, tugging her clit up from between the folds of her spread labia.

       “Well slave.”   Jodi hears the Mistress’ voice from in front of the rack.  “I think we’ll start by working on these titties awhile!”

       Feeling hands sliding across both breasts, fingers melding the firm mounds, tweaking the “O” rings, twisting, tugging, Jodi can only accept the manipulation of her bare breasts as she arches painfully back, unable to see whatever they decide to do with her.

       The Mistress massages the firm globes, watches the nipples stretch between the taut chain, the “O” rings twisting as she squeezes, tugs, strokes the tit flesh trusting up toward her.  Glancing down across Jodi’s bare flesh, the faint stripes of whip marks crisscrossing her glistening flesh, the Mistress is nudged by one of the men, handed a gleaming six inch needle off a sanitized syringe.

       Smiling, eyeing it, she twists it between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand.  Gently lowering its tip across the bud of Jodi’s left nipple, she pinches the “O” ring between her thumb and forefinger of her left hand, resting her palm across the firm globe.

       “Okay, feel this?”  The Mistress sarcastically smirks as she rests the sharp tip against the nipple, Jabs downward, barely pricking the tan flesh between the ”O” ring.

       “Oomph!”  Jodi grunts, her chest reflexively arching upward as she feels the sharp pain.

       “I asked.  Did you feel it?”  The Dom scolds as she pokes just a tad deeper.  “Did you, slave?”  Another short jab.

       “Ouch!  Yes, yes, Ouch, that hurts!”  Jodi responds, again reflexively jerking.

       “That’s Mistress, slave!”  She again scolds as she shoves the needle straight down, another inch or so deeper through the center of the tan bud, as she feels it sinking into the meaty tit flesh.

       “Agghhhh!” Squealing, again unable to hold still, arching upward, Jodi blurts.  “God!  Yes, oh God yes!  That hurts!  It hurts bad, Mistress, yes Mistress!

       “That’s better!  The Mistress mockingly answers, adding.  “By the way, that’s fifteen minutes you owe me now.  Want to go for more?”

Squeezing Jodi’s breast a little firmer, jabbing the needle a little deeper, the Mistress leans forward, feels Jodi’s flinching thighs arching out, grinding against hers.  Glancing down, she notices the chain jerking upwards from Jodi’s clitoris, the “O” ring scraping across her shaven pubic mound, glistening, perspiration beading.

       “Agghhhh!  Oh God! That… That hurts so bad!  Jodi pleads, feeling the sharp jab along with the mounting pain spreading throughout her contorted body.  Biting her lip, twisting her head back and forth as tears streak across her cheeks, out of the corners of her eyes she shockingly catches the glimpse of Eve’s body swaying back and forth.

       “That’s a half hour you owe me now!”  The Dom scolds again while giving the “O” ring a tweak.  “We can just keep building on it slave!”

       “Mistress, Mistress, oh Mistress!”  Jodi whines, her chest pounding, finally realizing what she means.

       “Well, finally, I’m glad you understand now.”  The Dom snickers.  “I just knew you’d be hanging by these titties though.”  She adds as she gives a playful couple of squeezes of Jodi’s firm melon, gives another jab of the needle, a flick of blood spurting across her thumb.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!  Aaaggghhh!”  The pain sears like an electrical jolt inside her breast as Jodi feels the needle sliding deeper into her tit flesh.

       Glancing around toward the men, flicking the tip of her tongue across the speck of blood covering her thumbnail, she asks.  “Another, got another?

       Quickly handed a second needle, the Mistress release’s Jodi’s left breast, grips her right one, points the tip inside the quivering “O” ring, directly into the barely visible dimple in the center of the tan nipple.  Glancing toward the twitching needle rising from Jodi’s left breast, she jabs inward, feels the chain tighten between the “O” rings, stretching across Jodi’s pain wreaked breasts.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”  The searing pain reverberates through both breasts.  Her neck, ankles scrape the wooden curves of the wooden stock as her body reflexively bucks.  “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”  Another thrust, the needle grinds deeper into her nipple, her naked body still bucking.  “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”  Yet another sharp jab matches the depth of the other needle, barely a couple inches of each left exposed.

       Taking a step back, obviously aroused, the Mistress watches her slave’s spasms, the twisting, jerking in the stocks, the pair of needles dancing out from the “O” rings impaling the thick, chrisom streaked nipples, the chains stretching, slacking off the front of her glistening naked body.

       While stepping around the stock, the Mistress addresses the two men.  “Well, time for the tattoo!”

       Even above the pain, Jodi’s heart pounds as she hears the Mistress, feels the hands spreading her cunt lips apart, tugging the clit ring, twisting the chain off to the side as her hips arch outwards from the stock.

       “Hold still, calm down, we want this to look good now, don’t we? And, don’t worry, he’s an expert!”  The Mistress stresses as the men position themselves above her spread thighs.  “You’re getting four nice big letters right across this pussy.”

       As one man carefully stencils the letters “JODI” just above the split of her vagina, the other prepares the needle and ink.  Stepping around the stock, the Mistress leans over, cups her arm around Jodi’s neck, smiles down at her as she places a ball gag in her mouth and ties it behind her neck.  “This will take a while, and hurt a little bit, but you can handle it, can’t you?”

       Feeling a sharp prick, Jodi flinches, also feels her hips being held.  The whirring of the needle becomes as constant as the searing pain as the Mistress holds Jodi’s head in her arms while one of the men continues to hold her quivering, outthrust hips.  The needle passes back and forth, over and over, piercing, probing her tender flesh across the base of her pubic mound.  As the letters surface, the “O” ring’s twisted, tugged out of the way as the needle buries the ink into her moist flesh.

       Biting her lip, squinting her eyes, Jodi feels the burning pain back and forth, some harsher as the needle sinks into the outer puffy folds of her vulva.  Moaning, grunting, the other pain of the needles shoved deep into her nipples meld with the pain of the outer edge of her vagina being tattooed.

       Slowly passing back and forth, leaning his wrist across her thigh, he continues inking, wiping, inking the freshly shaven flesh between her constantly quivering legs.  Tugging the “O” ring, gliding the needle intentionally across the top edge of her clit hood, he eases the tip of the needle as traces of urine trickle from her quivering slit.

       “Uuumph!”  The biting pain jolts like an electric shock through her clitoris as she twists her head against the Mistress’ arms.  Feeling the needle painfully gliding back and forth, gliding just above the nub of her clit as long, slow minutes agonizingly pass by, she bites her lips, grunts with pain as the black inked letters slowly fill in until all four are embedded into her pubic mound.

       Wiping the needle, using a clean, alcohol saturated rag, he rubs it briskly across the fresh tattoo, between her thighs, across her twitching vagina.

       “Aaagghhh!!”  Bucking, twisting, Jodi feels the searing burn across her raw flesh, bare vagina as the alcohol spreads, streaks between her labia folds, mixes with traces of urine, drips from the crease of her butt cheeks.  Tears run down her cheeks, her eyes red, swollen as the Mistress glances down, releases her arm, steps toward the front of the stock.

       The men step back as the Mistress lifts the chain, tugging the “O” ring upward, lightly slides her fingers across the puffy block letters, perfectly inked across the reddened flesh.  “Now, Jodi, our guests will know your name without ever having to ask, especially when your mouth’s already occupied.”

       Stepping toward Eve, the Mistress glances toward the men.  “Lower her, just slightly.  Make it so she has to tiptoe to relieve the tension on those tits.”

       In moments the sound of the pulley echoes as Eve’s twisting body slowly lowers, her twitching toes touch the floor, her calf muscles tensing as she stands on the balls of her feet, the clamps still taut around her swollen globes as her head continues to tilt back.

       Satisfied, walking toward the entrance, the Mistress hesitates.  Letting the men exit first, flipping off the light switch, she closes the door behind her.

End Part Three                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

FETISH VIDEO

Chapter Four

       Laying face up on the flat, hard cot, staring toward the white ceiling, the stark walls, a long, slender chain hangs loosely down from the wall above Jodi, connected to the black chocker collar around her throat.  Her arms cross over her bare, sweating chest, her hands resting above her glistening breasts as each nipple ring’s tautly connected to a wrist cuff.  The chains are off, the “O” rings remaining intact as she still has the burning discomfort of the fresh tattoo embedded across the top edge of her vagina.  The nubs of the fresh growth of her pubic hair across the raw etching just adds to the itching discomfort she’s unable to reach, with the added disgusting problem of the chaffing between her thighs from not being able to wipe herself after her normal bodily functions.

       Time’s immeasurable as the bare, bright light on the ceiling burns constantly.  Without windows, with the portal on the only entrance closed shut, a disgusting slop bucket’s the only loose item in the cell.  No blankets, pillow or any other item of comfort including toiletries has been afforded her.  The bucket doesn’t even have a lid, the stench of the waste of her relieving herself fouling the already muggy, putrid air.

       Even with the stench, her throat’s raw, her stomach rumbles from hunger as the only  nutrition she’s received since she’s been brought back from being tattooed has been a couple, maybe three, half empty paper cups of a bitter solution, left on the narrow ledge under the bars on the portal when she’s awakened on her own.  Miserable, weak, she’s not even sure when she’s awake or unconscious as she drifts into a sort of madness.

       Since stepping into the video store in what seems another lifetime, everything since is worse then some sort of nightmare, of insanity.  She’s not even sure some of the things done to her has actually happened or if she’s become delusional.  What bits and pieces of dreams she’s had to give her a momentary respite now consists only of dark nightmares.

       The only close thing she’s had to live contact may also be illusionary as occasionally she thinks she hears the whimpers, and even rasping screams outside the cell door, screams of a tortured woman.  Then again, it could just be another of her unending nightmares.  Again her eyes close, the light still burning into her eyelids, her tear drained pupils dry, raw as she hovers between consciousness and darkness while feeling her hands sliding toward her raw armpits, the “O” rings stretching her nipples, breasts toward her sides, that accumulated pain only a minor discomfort.

       The Mistress walks along the corridor, stopping in front of the door to Jodi’s cell, quietly, slowly lowering the portal’s cover.  Glancing in; she holds her breath as the mist of the stench is almost visible as she observes Jodi’s naked body squirming on the hard slab.  Sweat drenched, matted hair, bruised flesh, the black tattoo glistens under the nubs on her bare pubic mound. All in all she appears to be holding up better then expected for being confined in the six by eight foot cell for now over four days.  Shutting the portal, stepping toward the open cell door across the hall, she thinks to herself maybe another day, or probably even two, before Jodi gets another session.

       Stepping through the already wide open door of Eve’s cell, she smiles as she steps toward the back wall toward her other tortured slave.  The ceiling light’s off, the room’s illumination coming from a pair of thick, white wax candles, the candle holders being Eve’s rectum and vagina.

       Naked, mounted on the wall facing outward, Eve’s arms are stretched wide, straight out from her sides, flat, thick metal cuffs covering her elbows and wrists embedded in the stone surface.  Legs widely stretched into a “V”; they’re hoisted above her head, spreading out in front of her arms, her ankles shackled to metal cuffs high above her on the wall.   Her breasts hang out from her chest, melted wax mounting underneath her twin mounds, pooling in her belly button, across her stomach, engulfing the bottoms of the large rings piercing her nipples.  Her naked body obscenely exposed, bowed, the uplifted mounds of her spread butt cheeks, barely a foot in front of her face, glisten, dripping sweat as the candles flicker in front of her face as saliva drools out from her hollow mouth gag.  The most recent melted wax painfully puddles, pooling in her stretched orifices, dripping onto the stone floor.

       “Eve.”  The Mistress addresses her as she slides her hand out, her arm at an angle even with her waist, running the tip of her index finger back and forth across the fresh wax pooling between the puffy folds of Eve’s painfully saturated labia.  “This wax is covering your clit ring, and that nice tattoo we just had done on your pussy.”  She smiles, spreading the still moist wax from around the puffy nub of the protruding, purplish clit, visibly twitching with each flick of the fingernail across the embedded clit ring as she clears it off.  Reaching toward the bright red “O” gag in Eve’s mouth, she adds.  “Slide your tongue out, lick this wax off my finger.”

       Staring thru her swollen, red eyes, tears streaking off her cheeks, Eve moans as she lets the tip of her tongue slip out over the bottom of the wet mouth ring, feels the Mistress’ finger pressing, twisting around the bright red “O” gag, the wax already hardening as she feels it flake off behind her teeth as the finger slides in and out of her mouth.

       Slipping her finger out, the Mistress holds her hand against the side of the candle engulfing Eve’s vagina, tilting her head, nods.  “Looks like there’s still two, three inches of the candles left.  Maybe they won’t burn all the way down before I come back tomorrow.”

       Reaching between the spread thighs, she slides her fingers across Eve’s stomach, toward the rounded curves of the twin mounds of Eve’s breasts, adding.  “Gee, the clit rings already covered up again, oh well, if the candles burn down, that pussy and butt hole won’t feel so good, will they?!”  Squeezing the left breast, pinching the upper portion of a scorched areola, leaning closer, she adds.  “Oh, we’ve burnt those nipples a little bit too, haven’t we?  You don’t mind, do you?!”  Tweaking both nipples she raises, straightening up.  “By the way, this is what, the second day these candles have been lit in there?  When’s the last time you’ve relieved yourself Eve?  Need to go?”

       Eve’s eyes dart back and forth.  Grunting, mumbling through the gag, she tries to speak, making herself heard as she shakes her head up and down.

       “Oh well, I just can’t understand what you’re trying to say.  I guess that’s a no then!”  Okay, see you tomorrow.”  Turning stepping toward the open cell door, the Mistress smiles to herself as she listens to the whimpers, groans, along with the sound of the back of Eve’s body scraping against the wall.  Stepping into the hallway, she turns, speaks.  “Let’s leave the cell door open.  Promise not to leave and we’re let those candles keep the hallway in front of the cell lit up for one more night, okay Eve?”  Smiling, watching the agonized expression on Eve’s tortured face, she turns away, walks up the corridor, one more stop for the evening.

       Again Jodi’s eyes flick open, again she thinks she’s hearing groans, distressed cries of a woman’s voice outside her cell door.  A few moments pass, licking her dry tongue around her parched lips; again she lets her eyes close, the whimpering fading out in the hallway.

       Entering the torture room, The Mistress glances toward the wooden stock, her husband standing beside it.  In use, a naked woman’s arched; positioned in the conventional way, face down, with her head, hands through the stock’s slots about waist high off the floor.  Feet spread, her ankles are secured in the bottom of the stock’s frame.  Walking toward its side, she instantly notices the fullness of her breasts, the nipples swaying down as her back arches, her buttocks thrusting up in the air.

       “You’re back!  And, look who you brought with you!”  She smiles.

       “Yes, got the right price, they abused her pretty good after we took Jodi and Eve.  He answers as he steps behind the naked, shackled woman.  “Just now got her hooked up, want to join in?”  Dropping his pants down, he spreads her butt cheeks with his other hand, licks, then spits on his index finger, sliding it around the edge of her butt hole, lubricating it.  Stepping toward the front of the stock, the Mistress kneels, glances up into the girl’s eyes.

       “Well, looks like you’re going to get reacquainted with your friend again, huh Amanda?”

       “Oomph!... Oomph… Oooommmph!”  Grunting as she feels his shaft pressing between her butt cheeks, the head of his swollen cock forcing thru the puckered rim of her anus, the third thrust ramming halfway in, Amanda twists her head away as she feels the rhythm of his manhood tearing at her insides, each thrust deeper, each one long and slow.

       Standing, the Mistress steps around the stock, stands beside Amanda’s arched body, cups, smacks, grabs the elongated globe hanging down, swaying back and forth with each thrust.  Glancing toward her husband, she smiles as he continues to thrust while holding the palms of his hands open across the outer curves of Amanda’s up thrust butt cheeks.

       “The candles are still burning in Eve’s pussy and Jodi’s still laying in her stench.”  She states matter of fact as she again stretches the breast in her hand, tilts her head, finding the nipple, pinches it between her thumbnail and fingernail.

       “Ummph!”  A deep thrust, a grunt, his scrotum slapping between Amanda’s spread thighs, he stands motionless, hands still on her butt cheeks.  “She’s been getting the meds?  He asks, arching his hips back.  “Ummph!”  Grunting, again thrusting inward before holding still.

       “Yes, several doses, salt water mixed with a couple hits of Acid, some GHB, and a couple more of your concoctions.  I doubt if she even knows who she is anymore!”  She answers while again glancing down across Amanda’s ribcage as she pinches the nipple tighter, twists tugs the stretched breast.  “Hey, the nipple rings are gone; we’ll have to replace them after we’re done here!”  She adds as she steps in front of the stock, drops her panty, pressing her shaven pubic mound against Amanda’s face, yanking her head up by her hair as she releases the nipple from her fingernails.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”  Jerking, neck and wrists already raw, Amanda’s body bows, twists in the stock as her freed breasts flail, bounces, the searing pain like an electrical shock pulsing through her stretched breasts.

       “Lick it!”  The Mistress orders as she feels Amanda’s mouth between her thighs as she starts grinding against her face.

       Her mouth pressed into the woman’s spread thighs, the man’s swollen shaft pounding, engulfing her stretched rectum, Amanda gasps for air, her naked body arching, twisting, her breasts swaying, smacking together with each of his thrusts.  Struggling for breath, her head twists back, the woman smothering her with her bare vagina.

       “Use that tongue or I’ll ripe these tits off!”  The Mistress grunts as she reaches under the stock, grabs both breasts, twisting jerking with her gripping fingernails sinking into the tortured tit flesh as she rams her sex across Amanda’s face, forcing the back of her head to slam against the wooden frame of the stock.

       “Uuumph!… Oomph!... Oomph!... Oomph… Humph!”  Rapid continuous thrusts of his cock, his scrotum slapping between her spread slit, from the other direction the woman’s damp pubic mound presses, grinding against her face, forcing her head to press against the flat wood, her breasts being torn raw by the gripping fingernails of the hands pinching, twisting.  Amanda struggles just to breath.  On the verge of hyperventilating, being pounded on both ends, she hears their rasping grunts, moans as her ass cheeks are smacked, spread apart, smacked again repeatedly as her naked body flails in the stock.

       Wracked with pain, grunting, wheezing, forcing her tongue outward, pressing, curling it against, around the moist engorged clit grinding across her parted lips, the swelling shaft ripping at her stretched rectum, clenching her fists, grinding her ankles in the stock’s base, Amanda sucks on the clit, presses it tightly between her tongue and teeth, feels the twitching, jerking of the woman’s vagina as the hot fluid spurts across her lips, tongue, down her throat as the woman’s hands quiver, jerk, shake, still sadistically gripping the bulging melons.

       “Ooohh!... Yes!... Yessss!... Yeeesssss!”  Grunting, flinching, jerking, the Mistress rasps for breath, feeling the surge from her womb, the cum flowing, spurting past Amanda’s crushed lips simultaneously with the man’s grunts as his shaft twitches, his cum spurts into her torn rectum, pulsing, jerking as he rams once, twice, a final third time, twisting her bare flesh in his clinched fists as he presses against her thighs, leans across her quivering bruised butt cheeks.

       Amanda feels the twitching cock sliding from her torn rectum, the woman’s wet vagina sliding across, down off her face.  Head slumping, hair hanging across her eyes, rasping, struggling to catch her breath, her naked, sweat drenched body sagging painfully in the stocks, she feels the fluids oozing, dripping from her orifices as her bare breasts, bruised, scratched, hang down, swaying limply off her chest.

End Part Four