Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Miss Prim & Proper, or what goes around, comes around
Codes: MF, torture, humiliation, nc, drugs
Outline: Cynthia gets some payback when a rebuffed suitor from her youth
finally takes what already should have been his years ago (and then starts
handing it out to every one...)
Suggestor: likes to be unmentioned

   Chapter 6 - Tit-press

   Cynthia woke up with a strange combination of feelings.  The hit of Z
had given her the second mind blowing (and mind altering) high of the day.
But through the slowly disappearing colorful vortex, that had disconnected
her from reality during the last half hour, the humiliating events, that
she experienced before George....  no, Fred had sent her again spinning
away, slowly flooded back into her mind.  She had been fucked like a cheap
street prostitute, simply laying there and let her cunt squeeze the cum out
of Fred's long and thick cock!  The most awful part had been that part of
her had liked it!  While the biggest parts of her felt violated and abused
by the treatment, another small parts had welcomed the treatment and
actually wanted it to prolong and intensify.  And that even scared her
more....  She, who always rebuffed any (incorrect perceived or not) minor
sexual advances towards her from the start, now actually wanted a real
event to prolong and intensify.  To put if blunt, she wanted the cock to
fuck her!  Not just being stuck inside and let her do the work, but being
pulled out and shoved back inside.  Repeatedly and forcefully!  But now,
after her orgasm and with the receding feeling of drug induced happiness
and contentment, the guilt and humiliation about her behavior came back
with a vengeance.

   Crawling into a fetal position she started to sob.  Cynthia noticed that
during the last blackout her red latex body stocking had been removed.  Her
sobbing grew to a full blown crying fit.  Even the decency of being dressed
(no matter how scantily or provocative) had been removed from her and she
had to suffer the indignant situation of being totally naked.  Still crying
she silently cursed the day that she got involved in this whole BDSM-5000
project.  And with the arrangements made at work before she left, she could
not expect anyone to report her missing during the first 5-6 weeks. 
Cynthia sat up and took a good look around the room she was being kept in.
As she noticed before the wall and floor were of some rubber/plastic
material in an off-white color.  It measured some 20 by 20 meters and the
whole room was lit by soft indirect lighting from above.  Despite her first
impression of an empty room, she now noticed several chairs, tables and
some other furniture whose purpose wasn't exactly clear.  But given her
recent treatment she gathered that this probably would change soon.  Some
of the stuff looked really wicked with ropes and chains.  Cynthia shivered
when she thought about the possible applications of all this.  She stood
and walked naked around the room.  Each wall had several doors, but all of
them were locked, but none had locks.  Same with the drawers she
encountered.  Even while the room was comfortably warm, she shivered at the
thought of the horrors that could be kept inside.

   Fred saw Cynthia walk around and examine the room.  Of course, she had
nowhere to go.  Not before she realized and accepted her ultimate fate. 
And not before she had run through the complete process of turning her into
one of the ever compliant (no matter how repulsive or humiliating the act
she had to perform was going to be) prostitutes that he had working for his
organization.  And for now the process went fine.  Most of the women who
underwent the addiction process to Z fell into apathy for the first two to
three weeks.  Only after that time they usually regained their original
level of activity.  Of course, as with everything a few failed and simply
stayed in their apathetic state.  But even those had their use.  Remarkably
there were always men (and women) prepared to pay serious money for a
docile.  everything accepting, never complaining, fuckdoll.  He himself
liked his women a bit more lively, so he was pleased to see she adjusting
well to the new situation.  But then again, no need to let her think she
was even in the least way in control...  so as she kept on walking and
examining the room, he decided it was time for her next experience and
after activating a few controls on the computer, he made his way back to
the training room.

   In that training room Cynthia noticed that one drawer had opened out of
the wall.  Looking into it, she looked at a device that she never saw
before.  Two slim pieces of some sort of dark brown, well oiled wood, but
being kept together by three sets of thumbnuts and bolts of about 8 inches.
One set at both ends and the third straight in the middle, neatly dividing
the wooden strips in two.  In a weird sort of way it looked like one of
those flower presses that she used as a kid.  And in a weird sort of way
she was kind of right, but before she had more time to think about the
device, Fred entered the room again.

   Pointing at one of the chairs, he indicated her to sit.  Fuck that
bastard, was Cynthia's first thought.  He does not even consider me worth
talking too...  In a fit of anger she grabbed the wooden device, jumped at
Fred and tried to hit him.  When her right hand came down to deliver the
blow, Fred caught it in an iron grip with his left and he simply kept her
arm stretched above her head.  As she was stretched out and needed her
right arms to keep her balance, her tits were now completely exposed and
Fred smacked her several times on the sensitive globes.  Tears jumped in
her eyes as the jolts of pain coursed though her breasts and fanned out all
over her body.  Fred had no problems in pushing her backwards to the chair
and make her sit on it.  Still adjusting to the brutal treatment that her
tits had just received, she hardly noticed that her wrists and ankles were
cuffed to the frame of the chair.  "Sweetie....  don't EVER do that again!"
he hissed at her.  "Maybe you did not get it yet, but this is not a joke...
your life depends on being able to comply with following orders.  Your
whimsical and self-centered behavior of doing whatever YOU want is not
acceptable any more!  And least of all trying to attack the people who in
the end decide whether you'll live or not!" And he continued as Cynthia
looked dazed and confused at him, "Do you understand me?" With two bitch
slaps on her cheeks he finally got her attention.  "Ye-e-es," she
stuttered, still dazed by the ruthless force and strength that Fred used to
subdue her.  While he moved behind her she noticed that she had been
secured to the chair, her legs slightly spread, so her cunt was exposed and
easy reachable.  With her back straightened against the seat, due of the
odd position of the shackles around her wrists, her tits stood out
straight. Again the humiliation and shame flooded her mind, to be bound
like this, with everything exposed for all that might be here.  For now it
was only this brutal Fred, but what if....  "Don't resist or scream,
because it will only make it worse," Fred whispered in her ear.  He then
reached around her and squeezed first one tit and then the other as he
slipped them both between the two pieces of wood.  He had opened the
thumbnuts enough to create enough space between the two parts.  Cynthia
relaxed as the wood actually felt quite good as it touched the soft
underside of her tits.  The device did not slide of as Fred released the
firm tits and they expanded again to squeeze against the wood.  She looked
down and saw just the front of her tits, with the pink/brownish nipples,
sticking out of the dark brown wood.  Now Fred started to turn on each
thumbscrew one by one, pressing the wooden strips slowly but surely closer
and closer together and Cynthia recognized in horror what was going to
happen!  Her tits were going to be squeezed.  In the beginning the pressure
even felt good, but even that was nullified by the shame and the fear abut
things to come.  Soon the wood started to press deeper and deeper in the
soft fatty tissue of her tits.  The front parts started to bulge more and
more, as blood was being pumped in, but not being able to leave.  Despite
the growing pressure and pain, her nipples became rock hard and very
sensitive (this she noticed as Fred flicked his finger every now and then
across them).  Each caress send an electrical stream from that nipple
straight to her clit and she felt herself getting wetter and wetter.  How
awful to sit with her legs open so that her fluids could just drip on the
chair.  She could not even deny that this was turning her on!  Fred took a
few steps back and admired his work.  The base of Cynthia's tits had now
been reduced to about half its normal size and it looked as if most of the
tissue had been pushed outwards.  The front parts now looked like purplish
balloons, ready to burst and topped with red cherries.  Looking lower, he
noticed the expected wetness between her lips.  Closing in again, he rubbed
her twat a few times and Cynthia bucked her hips against his fingers. 
Good...  she was getting horny again due to the withdrawal from Z and
instinctively felt that she needed to cum.  Even if her conscious mind did
not (want to) realize this, her autonomous system was already adjusting to
the situation.

   Fred now continued with turning the thumbnuts.  Where Cynthia until now
only felt a slight discomfort, even if she saw her tits bulging more and
more with horror, she was now treated to the full effect of the titpress.
The skin and tissue between the wooden sticks started to become sensitive
and painful from the continued pressure and lack of blood.  Each turn now
caused her more and more pain.  "Ngg..." she tried not to groan, but after
two quick turns by Fred it became to much.  "That's a good girl.... 
moaning is ok, just no screaming" he spoke to her and rubbed her cunt
again. That felt so good that it almost canceled out the pain in her
tits... "NNNGGG" Cynthia moaned again, but this time from real pleasure as
Fred sucked on one of her oversensitive nipples.  The sensations were just
awesome.  But then the pain came back just as much when he continued
turning the thumbnuts and moving the two parts of the titpress closer and
closer together.  He now had to use real force, as both tits had been
flattened to not even one quarter of their usual thickness at the base. 
The only thing that kept Cynthia from screaming her lungs out from the
excruciating pain, was Fred's hand fingering her soaking wet cunt.  The
combination of pain and pleasure made her feel so strange, the humiliation
of being tied, tortured and fingered against her will on one hand, and on
the other hand, she bounced her slippery and wet pussy with all her might
against the thick and straightened fingers from Fred.  Again he sucked her
nipples that were about the burst open from the pressure.  This time
Cynthia could not hold back.  "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" and her cunt clamped
down on Fred's fingers as she exploded in an unbelievable orgasm.  The
electricity now flowed in both directions between her pussy and her tits.
Three, four times she bucked her hips forward to prolong her climax, but
eventually it ended and she slumped down, exhausted, on the chair.  As she
came back to reality, the pain and pressure in her tits also returned.  How
long was she to endure this?  A thousand needles stung every square inch of
her udders.  Looking for Fred, she saw him at one of the drawers, again
taking one of the syringes that she started to hate and like.  She now knew
she was being drugged and made an addict, but the rush felt so good.... 
God, she really was loosing it.  No one in his right mind should enjoy
this, she corrected herself sternly.

   Not that it really mattered.  She was going to be injected by Fred
anyway.  The last thing that mattered to Cynthia, before the vortex of joy
and colors engulfed her post-orgasmic mind again, was the sudden sharp pain
and shame as Fred pushed the needle an inch deep in her still oversensitive
left nipple!  As if she was a cow that needed udder treatment!  But almost
instantly the pain was pushed away by that almost welcome vertigo of
colors...

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