Wicked Spin

Views: 723 Created: 2007.09.28 Updated: 2007.09.28

A tale out of Africa

Chapter 8

Finally the bouncing stopped and I could smell the residual exhaust from a vehicle of some kind. I was literally being transported to meet my fate.

After what seemed like an eternity, I felt the trunk being moved from side to side, then thump, the dildo ramming itself up my ass, as the trunk was surely dropped. More bumps and movement till all finally became still.

I had been set back down into a horizontal position and quickly felt the cooler breeze of an air-conditioned space. The two bars holding my legs were removed, as was the dildo that was now fully up my ass.

The straps holding me down were removed, then two pairs of rough hands grabbed me from under the arms, pulling me up and out of the trunk.

"Had a quiet trip, slut", said a husky female voice in my head. "I have a hell of a weekend planned for you and I expect that I'll get my money's worth by the time you're packaged up for the return trip."

I felt a rough leather covered hand over my left breast, the fingers playing with my ringed nipples, then some tugging on the ring as my nipple slowly stretched out. Whack. I crop or whip had come down hard against the breast. More tugging and pulling, this time on the right one, then whack. Now both breasts were on fire.

"These are so sweet looking," said the voice, "I think they've been kept protected too long. I personally prefer them a little larger myself, " continued the voice, "but these milky white tits will probably grow just from the special punishment they'll get this weekend."

I felt something being hooked into the D-ring at the front of the collar, then a tug told me that a leash of some kind had been attached, prompting me forward.

I could feel cold marble or tile under my feet, as I was walked around. I stopped when the tugging stopped. Someone was playing with my nipple rings again, a couple of clicks telling me that something had been attached to them. My asshole was not spared, as I felt a cold, hard dildo being shoved up then locked into place.

I was temporarily blinded by a bright light, as my blindfold was removed. When I got things back into focus, I found that I was standing in the middle of what looked like a "clinic/dungeon". White tiles everywhere, hooks and rings affixed to the ceiling, walls and floor at various point throughout the room. The furniture was decidedly hospital chic: chairs, benches, beds, all covered with what looked like white rubber.

As I looked down at my chest, I found the source of the earlier clicks: the ends of a short chain was attached to each nipple ring. The chain itself appeared fairly light, but what troubled me was that it was attached to another one, hanging vertically and threaded through a ring bolted into the ceiling about two feet in front of me.

The "bitch" looked even more threatening than the previous week. Standing tall in front of me, hands on her wide hips, her waist constricted (somewhat) by a one-piece corset/g-string garment. She was perched on what looked like four inch heeled boots, the smooth black leather rising up to her thighs.

She pulled on the chain dangling in front of her, causing my nipples to be stretched out. The pain really didn't start until she reached over to a table, picked up a one-pound weight, clipped to the end of the chain then let it drop from her hand.

Obviously not quite satisfied with that, she clipped a second pound weight next to the first one, and let that one drop as well.

Both weights were a few inches above a metal plate that had a wire connected to it, which mysteriously disappeared behind me.

Moving closer to me, holding a mean-looking leather crop in her right hand, she brought it up close to my now distended breasts. The purpose of the weights at the other end became more obvious, as my tits now presented a tempting target.

"How about we start with ten on each tit", she said, looking at me with shear hate in her eyes. "I've been wanting to use this new toy on a white piece of trash for some time, and from what I've heard about you, I'm going to enjoy this even more."

Whack. Whack, as she alternated from one breast to the other, welts rising on each as she counted out loud. I had tried moving back, to avoid the crop, only to be reminded of the weights dangling at the other end of the chain.

All this time I was somewhat free to move forward or backward. So far I'd attempted some backward steps to avoid the crop on my tits.

The "bitch" went to a table close by and picked-up a short whip. Approaching me again, she pointed to the weights and to the metal plate in front of me.

"I've got some shocking news for you, " she said. "The weights are only twelve inches away from the plate, but if they touch it, it will complete the electrical cycle, linking your tits with the butt-plug up your ass. It's not enough to cause permanent injury, but it will be very painful. So if you move forward, the weights will fall onto the plate and you really don't want that to happen."

She stepped behind. I heard the now familiar swoosh of the whip, then it ripped into my ass. I moved forward slightly from the blow, fortunately not enough to bring the weights onto the plate. I move back a little. A second blast hit my ass, I inched forward, bringing the weights too close to the plate and could see sparks between the two metal objects, but they still did not connect.

She fastened the blindfold again; I was now unable to see how close the weights were to what would sure be an excruciatingly painful ordeal. I stood as still as possible.

The whip crashed onto the front of my thighs; I instinctively tried pulling back, but the weights on my tits reminded me otherwise.

"This is no fun, " I heard her say, "I'm going to have to make this harder. Let's see if I add one more of these."

I felt my tits being pulled some; she'd added more weight to cause my tits to stretch out more. Then I felt the sting of the whip again on my thighs, but couldn't pull back because of the increased weight.

Within a split second after I'd heard the swoosh, I knew it had come from the rear. I wanted to move forward to avoid the sting on my ass or back. The plate!

It had hit my ass harder than before, my body shaking from the pain, my concentration lost for a moment, my body naturally wanting to avoid more of the same.

The next few minutes were like nothing I'd experienced since I was led down this path of pain several months ago. The dildo in my ass took on a life of its own, while the electricity cycled through my painful tits and filled asshole.

Even after I'd stepped back, cutting the power running to their connection points, my body continued shaking.

The "bitch" laid into me again, twice. The weights must have touched the plate again, because the electrical cycle started. This time I pulled back more quickly, but the shaking went on. Again and again she whipped my ass, while I kept going through the very painful cycle.

My skin was dripping with sweat, as she told me that I'd have to hold that position until she rested for a while. My bones were shaking; I only hoped that she wouldn't be too long, because I was sure that my tits would be ripped from me.

After what seemed like an eternity, I felt her approach. She ran her rough hands over my sore butt, kneading them. I felt a sudden rush of relief as she unclipped the chain linking my tits to the weights, and was able to release some of the tension. The plug came next, leaving my sore asshole wide open.

"I just love electric play, don't you?" she said. "These small tits of yours seem to have grown already, at least the skin was a little stretched, so it'll make what I have in store for you more interesting."

What else could she do to my poor tits, that hadn't already been done. I wanted to just crumble, weep and rest for a few weeks.

She clipped the leash to my collar and tugged me forward, leaving me to follow with tiny steps. When the tugging stopped, I felt as if I was on a cold hard surface; she removed the blindfold. After adjusting to the harsh bright light, I found myself standing in a bathroom, but like noting I'd ever seen. It was white tiled, had an open shower area in one corner and a toilet, well at least it looked like a toilet. The chrome fittings and porcelain fixtures were quite unusual. The toilet bowl itself was on a raised, tiled platform

I was led over to the shower area, where I also noticed several strategically placed chrome rings firmly attached to the walls, along with some unusually positioned pipes. One of these ran up from the floor while another come down from the ceiling.

One of the bitch's goons came in with what looked a very large dildo with some strange fittings as the base. Without too much fanfare, it was roughly shoved up my aching asshole. I felt some movement, twisting and turning, then noticed that the rounded tip, used to facilitate its entry up my hole, had been removed, which left me with the feeling that my asshole was kept wide open.

My feet were unshackled and I was led over to where the chrome pipe extended from the floor. Spreading my legs, I was positioned right above the pipe; a few adjustments and it was screwed to the fitting up my asshole. My feet were kept apart, attached to rings on the floor, while my hands, now free from the belt, were attached to two chains hanging from the ceiling.

When the gag was finally removed, I wanted to beg to be released, but was sternly reminded that any sound would be met with a whipping that would leave my skin raw for weeks.

One of the other goons pulled out a small bottle and sprayed the inside of my mouth and back of my throat. Next, a wide diameter tube was inserted, the earlier spray had effectively numbed my throat, preventing a normal gag reflex. Several feet of this tubing was fed down my throat ending in a large rubber gag with odd chrome fittings (though its use was to become apparent very soon).

The chrome fitting was then attached to the pipe leading from the ceiling.

"You have now been fully integrated into my waste management system. Your feeding tube is attached to this, " she said, pointing to the ceiling pipe, "which is connected to a septic tank of sorts. All of the house's toilets feed into a tank above, then into a small pump, which feeds into a smaller tank, where a measured amount of waste is kept. I can regulate the amount kept in the smaller tank from one to four litres (up to a gallon).

"Using a timer, the smaller tank is emptied into this pipe," again pointing to the one attached to my mouth, "and into you, our supplementary, organic waste disposal system."

I was now a human toilet.

"I'm having a party," she continued, "and expecting twenty-five to thirty guests, so I expect we'll get a lot of use from you. Unfortunately you wont be able to taste anything, nor will you know when a new batch will be pumped into you, except as you feel your stomach expand from the waste, then discarded through the tube up your ass. The time required to 'process' the waste will be painful indeed."

With that she turned, motioned her two goons along and left.

It wasn't too long before I felt the first of what be dozens of waves of shit and piss being pumped into me. As predicted, my stomach would try to expand, then a half-hour or more later, it would contract, as the waste was 'processed' through me.

The pain levels varied, depending on the quantity, and I was able to gauge what was coming by the listening to the humm from the pump. The longer it hummed, the more painful the experience. Obviously the amount of waste was being varied.

Hours on end, I cycled through the pain of the filling, and the rush from the disposal down the tube filling my ass.

Much later, the bitch's two goons returned and unhooked the gag from the pipe. The gag was then attached to what looked like a bottle of clear liquid. The two litre bottle was lifted above my head and left to drain into my aching stomach. About an hour later, I felt more piss dripping down my leg, while a rush of warm liquid was pumped up my ass. I guessed this was part of the cleaning exercise.

A hand-held shower head was used to wash me down, while I alternated between pissing and having my bowels filled and emptied.

After an hour of this both the stomach and ass tubes were removed; I just hung there, waiting for what else they had ready for me.

With my hands attached in back of me, I was pulled forward and led to a small cell. The bed, if you could call it that, looked more like a medical examination table with what looked like straps along the whole length.

Made to lie on the table, my hands unshackled, I was then tightly strapped down. The straps firmly held me along the length of my body, my arms pinned to my side, my legs held together. Two straps held my head firmly: one across my forehead, the second, holding a ring gag fixed to each side of the table.

The bitch was back. She looked dishevelled, it must had been a rough night.

She came close to the table. "Quite a party, wouldn't you say? Too much food and drink, though I think you know that already. You have a chance to rest a bit, because we have a big day tomorrow, " she added.

Wheeling a small table close to where I was firmly attached, she then put on a pair of surgical gloves.

"I told I like bigger tits," she said, while picking up a syringe containing a yellowish liquid. "Some friends of mine found this wonderful compound in the rainforests in the southwest. It's actually a venom of sorts, though I'm told it'll make the sting from a bee seem like a mosquito bite by comparison.

"As you'll see, when I inject it into your smallish tits, they will almost triple in size and burn as if stung by a whole beehive. The burning sensation lasts about eight hours, then the swelling will subside a bit. I say a bit, because once we're done here, your tits will have doubled in size permanently."

How was I going to hide them. I could mask my smaller tits and still function at work, but this procedure was going to make that impossible. How was I supposed to keep my private persona hidden from my co-workers? I'd have at least C-cup breasts, I couldn't compress that.

"There are a few side-effects, though" she continued. "The swelling cycle continues every month, unless the procedure is repeated. So if you don't receive the injections regularly, your tits will take on monstrous proportions. While an injection will stop the growth temporarily, they will stay more or less at the larger size. So let's begin, shall we?"

She brought the syringe close to my nipple. Expertly, she guided the needle to the tip of my left nipple and squeezed the pump till the yellow liquid had been all been injected. Frankly the needle itself was the least of my worries, as I almost immediately felt the burning effect as my tits began to swell.

She repeated the same exercise with the right breast, unceremoniously. The burning and swelling began on that one as well. The swelling now on both breasts was visible and the pain from the burning increasing proportionately to the swelling. Eight hours of agony, I thought.

Not entirely finished, she took another syringe, this time containing a lighter coloured liquid. She brought it close to my face. I watched in horror as she injected it into my upper and lower lips.

"You'll now also have nicely puckered lips. Though this compound works in the same way, it's slightly modified and only requires to be re-administered every six months."

Sleep was not an option, even though they'd left me alone, my breasts and lips burning, the swelling continued.

After several hours, my breasts stuck out from my chest: two large, firm mounds, surely E size. By the time they returned, the swelling and the burning had subsided and were larger than I'd expected, about a full C-cup. I could barely feel my lips, though I did see them swell up.

"Well it looks like your body has taken well to this procedure, even better than I'd expected," she said, kneading my tender breasts. "These are just about the size I like, though I'm sure you've realized that your days as half a man are over, cause I don't think you can hide these anymore. Your Mistress told me that this was inevitable anyway, and she was very glad that I was able to help her in the transformation.

"Just remember, if you don't get this treatment every month, your breasts will grow till their size will become unbearable, and I am the only one to have this compound, so you and I will get to spend at least a day a month together. There is no known antidote."

(Several months later, I'd fully understand the importance of the treatment, as my breasts would become a permanent double-D cup size, because of some screw-up that prevented me from attending one of the monthly sessions. My lips had kept their puckered look, but not grown, thankfully.)

The breasts were very tender from the stretching of the skin, but the bitch was relentless in her abuse of her new found 'toys'.

That same day, while still firmly strapped to the table, she plucked my eyebrows, applied artificial long nails, and had me paint them.

Later, strung-up from my wrists, my feet secured to the floor, she applied the modified version of the compound (the same one she'd used on my lips) to several areas around my hips and ass. The swelling and burning was repeated and the effect became noticeable as my hip area appeared to widen on sight.

"This should help round-out your shape," she'd told me, while applying either a paddle or whip to my soar ass.

After what appeared to be an interminable weekend, I was packaged up again and shipped back to my waiting Mistress.

When I was brought back to my room and uncrated, I was placed in front of the full-length mirror. My jaw dropped as I saw the figure staring back at me for the first time. I couldn't believe what had happened to my body. My hips were in facts wider and rounder, my large breasts stood out from my chest. Turning slightly to my side, I noticed the rounding effect on my ass and the profile created from the protruding breasts and flat stomach, shaped from the months of wearing the corset. The transformation on my face was just as noticeable: puckered lips, trimmed, dyed blond eyebrows, to match the wig, they'd said. With a little makeup, I'd be unrecognisable.

"Your resignation has already been submitted," said Pane, "your days as an abusive oil executive are over. That doesn't mean you'll stop working, but as of tomorrow you are to become a new company assistant and office slut. In fact the references we submitted on your behalf, attest to your level of service, a white piece of trash employed, in large part, for your entertainment abilities."

I was resigning myself to the fact that now my whole life was forever changed; my wife, my job, my sex, my money. They'd taken everything.

"These are big," said Pane, feeling my new mounds, "I just hope the clothes we've picked out won't be too tight," she said with a wry smile.

The corset was put back on, as were my 'sleeping shoes' and the usual night time attire, and I was tucked into bed.

Before leaving, Pane injected me with something. "This will help for tomorrow," was all she'd said.

When I awoke the next morning, I felt some tightening around my throat. As Maria helped me get up from the bed, Pane, standing by the door, said: "How do you feel, slut?"

"Strange, particularly around my throat area", I seemed to say in a barely audible whisper, unable to raise my voice.

"Ah, I see it's beginning to work," said Pane. "The drug I gave you last night constricted your vocal chords, so that you wont be able to speak for the next few days. Meanwhile the drug will act on redefining your vocal chords, stretching them, so to speak. That way, in about a week's time, your voice will have gone up a few levels, but you will forever speak just barely above a whisper."

I was then told to dress in what I would describe as office-slut chic: short (but not insanely so) skirt and tight T-shirt. Under it all, I wore a satin corset with matching underwear, effectively concealing the metal chastity belt, somewhat of a thong-type thereby revealing the tattoos on my ass. A pair of shiny hose came next, held by the garters attached to the corset. A white bra completed the under-ensemble; it wasn't unduly thin but it did allow my nipples to show through.

I guess to allow for some modesty in my public appearance, I was also given a short jacket that fit rather well, except that I couldn't tie the front buttons. They'd been right about underestimating the size (or was that the purpose). Finally I was told to put on a pair of three-inch pumps.

To complete the look, makeup was applied and a blond wig was used to match my eyebrows. I was now ready for a day at the office, though getting there would be another story. I would have to take three buses, each of which more crowded than the last, everybody, women, men, boys, staring at me, ogling my tits. One of them, a middle-aged man, bumped into me by accident, his rough hands 'accidentally' squeezing my butt. I would have screamed, if I'd been able to, or at least turn around, but the pressure of the bodies around me prevented any such action.