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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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Leak - 7
by Nasty Pierre (no address provided)
***
Another tender love story. (Ff, ped, nc, v, bd)
***
Chapter Seven: The Shaving
Laura awoke to find herself face up and strapped to a
doctor's examination table. She was fastened to a long
narrow sheet of stainless steel, and it was ice-cold.
Still naked, she discovered her arms stretched taut,
secured somewhere above her head and her long slender
legs spread indecently wide. Her wrists were cuffed, her
ankles strapped into stirrups and she was secured tight,
rendered unable to move in more than a tiny wiggle. Her
jaw ached because her mouth was filled with a hard
rubber ball, fastened in place with wide leather straps
that buckled behind her head.
With head a little clearer now, Laura considered her
shameful position, but could find no words to describe
this new situation. Her mind went blank, lost to an
emotional state beyond her comprehension, even as she
lay bare before it. Her consciousness nonetheless
attempted to make sense of the unseemly situation. Her
behind was yet afire, but she could not bring herself to
believe she'd received such a bitter spanking. She found
herself worrying about the severity of the birch rod,
paddle and the need to avoid them at all cost. Suddenly,
Thelma's depraved face appeared from out of nowhere,
grinning down on her like an evil professor might on an
experiment.
Thelma brought her repulsive face close to Laura's, so
she could study the poor girl's expressions of despair
and horror. Those were the small things in life that
made it worth living, and she planned receiving many
such experiences from this young nymph. With a desire to
bring the child even more worry, she began explaining to
her what it was she was about to do.
"Ah, you're awake, my little niece." She stopped
speaking long enough to plant a wet kiss on one of
Laura's cheeks. "You're probably wondering why I have
you secured to this table, aren't ya," Thelma asked, her
voice rising as her question continued. Laura couldn't
help shaking her head up and down as best she could,
until she was forced to turn it aside to evade her
aunt's foul breath. "Well, my bosomy little treat, you
are about to embark on a great metamorphosis, a
momentous transformation if you will."
Thelma raised one arm in the air and waved it about for
a second.
"And we will begin your transformation by training you
in one of several virtues."
Thelma did all she could to keep from laughing as she
continued jabbering in a serious tone. Laura looked up
at the woman in a wide-eyed bewilderment. She was
growing accustomed to the bizarre treatment, though she
yet continued hoping she would awaken from this
nightmare.
Bubbles were forming in each corner of her outrageously
stretched mouth, making her sound like a tire leaking
air from under spit. Thelma smirked, smiled happily and
continued as if philosophizing.
"Little princess, your observance of the first rectitude
will naturally take you to the point of suffering, but
don't let that concern you. As a woman, you must learn
to suffer for others, and especially for me. Even Mother
Nature suffers under the savagery of humans. Should your
existence be any different? You, Mother Nature's
greatest gift to humankind? Ha! Though, in your case,
the single most important virtue is humility."
Thelma grabbed a fistful of Laura's hair, a big fistful,
and then she pulled until the teen's tear swollen eyes
flooded, and the pain was evident throughout her poor
body. She held Laura's head steady and began spitting in
her face. Not a lot, just a few thick hockers that
splattered when they hit and started running to the
table in a multitude of thin tributaries. Thelma
released the hair and Laura's sopping wet head dropped
to the table.
"In order for a fifteen year old girl of your upbringing
to benefit from my life experiences, it is necessary
that you understand what you are. Therefore, I of course
gave it much thought," Thelma stated seriously. She
looked at Laura as if to ask, 'hey, could you have
expected any less of me?' Laura's mind was following the
many streams of both warm and chilly saliva down the
sides of her head to the table.
They could have just as well been rivulets of hot,
scalding oil. She almost felt as if she understood what
Thelma meant, though she didn't know what it was she
understood, as the succubus went on. "So I finally
decided to begin your lessons, by shaving every hair
from your body." Thelma finished and then gave her words
time to sink in. She watched Laura's expressions turn
from painful bliss, to utter agony, and then to terror.
"Miss Paines, I will help you begin your transfiguration
with the aid of this beautiful pair of scissors." Laura
recognized her mother's favorite shears in Thelma's
hand, the old hag snipping away at the air in a sign
language Laura quickly grasped. Then Thelma brought her
face close to Laura's once again.
"I will follow that with a straight razor shaving, then
a waxing, tweezing and finally a brisk rub down." Thelma
finished with a smirk that smothered a laugh she almost
released. The total realization of Thelma's words
gradually hit home and Laura began shaking her head
violently, twisting her head and body.
'NO,' 'NO,' 'NO!' she attempted screaming through the
corners of her spit-clogged mouth. To Thelma, Laura was
little more than a fine catch, a fish waiting the
filleting knife.
Actually, Laura was more like a graceful butterfly,
pinned to the board of a sadistic collector, fluttering
uselessly against her restraints. Oh, she struggled
valiantly, as only a butterfly could, in millions of
failed attempts at flight. She kept arching her back and
yanking on her restraints, while strained taut, looking
up for her savior. Thelma sighed at the sight and a
childlike giggle of intense happiness charged through
her body. She shivered from head to toe and reached for
her little niece's big tits.
The old woman took her time, allowing her hands to roam
over Laura's breasts with great deliberation. She
reveled in their smooth unblemished texture, their
thickness and resiliency. She squeezed and tested the
great mounds of warm flesh, now all goose pimpled and
taut. She was amazed by their shear prominence, even
while the girl was on her back. Thelma considered the
lovely mounds ripe and ready to function as a
magnificent pair of udders. They were crowned with a
fine pair of nipples that were long and rubbery, and
just the right shade of pink, they were sure to please
her finicky sons and win for her many accolades before
she passed on.
Thelma took one of the nipples between a thumb and
forefinger. With a firm grip on the tender nub, she
began pinching and twisting it. With all her might
Thelma commenced testing the teen's pain threshold,
which was so very small, it only served to excite the
old woman further. Laura's eyes bulged with overtures
and she began thrashing about, and crying. Bubbling,
sputtering and splattering, that is.
Tightening her hold on the tip, Thelma used it to lift
Laura's thin torso from the table. She held the arched
body up while it wiggled in anguish. Then she pulled
further, until Laura's movements were stilled. "Now,
Miss Paines, you are to lie perfectly still during this
entire procedure and if you do, I shall consider,
consider mind you, allowing you to retain your
eyelashes." Thelma's look told Laura she was serious and
the thought of having her eyelashes removed made poor
Laura begin trembling even more, and that wasn't easy in
her present position.
Laura was stunned, to say the least. Every time she
thought Thelma had done her worst, the woman came up
with something more degrading. Before Laura had time to
adapt, Thelma was forcing her on. Laura was pleading
frantically from behind the ball gag, while her tears
and saliva formed pools on the cold table below her.
Thelma finally released Laura's nipple, allowing the
girl to drop, and turned to busy herself at a nearby
table. Laura strained to see the damage done to one of
her breast. She took in the smell of the hot wax
permeating the room, and sniffled to her pains. From the
very corner of her eye, Laura could see Thelma stirring
her caldron, like an old witch preparing her brew. She
froze to the turning of Thelma's head, the woman's eyes
alive with an eerie glow, her face smeared with an alien
grin.
"Ready," the old biddy asked with a cackle. For over two
hours Laura cried as she had never cried before,
screaming and begging in long gasps that erupted as
frothy, burbling saliva from behind her rubber gag. Her
eyes bulged and every sinew in her body was about to
snap under the strain.
Thelma had begun slowly, first brushing Laura's long
shimmering blond hair into two individual ponytails. She
tied each one off with white hemp string. Then, with the
help of those beautiful scissors, she cut each ponytail
off, as close to Laura's head as possible.
Triumphantly, she held each blond mane in the air before
Laura's eyes, allowing the strands to dangle in the
girl's face. Then she turned to dip the tied end into
the hot wax, gluing the hairs together.
"Ahhhhhh, perfect," mused Thelma, while once again
turning to Laura with the severed ponytails in hand. She
looked down on the distressed teenager in amusement.
"For me," Thelma said, indicating one of the manes. "A
fine conversation piece I shall carry with me always, a
constant reminder to us of your position and present
status in life. The other you must earn and you will in
fact earn it. Soon it will be given back to you and you
shall wear it proudly, as a symbol between us, the world
and god." Thelma then picked up the scissors again and
finished hacking off what was left of Laura's hair.
Content, she moved to between Laura's legs and snipped
away the girl's pubic hairs, collecting the fine bushy
curls in a plastic sandwich bag with a zip-lock seal.
She next lathered those areas and shaved them clean.
As poor Laura flopped around on the cold steel table
like a wet seal being skinned alive, her entire frail
form glistening with sweat, Thelma applied the hot wax
with a thick brush. She coated the teenager's body from
head to toe, working the hot substance into every nook
and cranny. She enjoyed her niece's pitiful expressions
of pain and the way the child strained against her
binds.
Thelma especially enjoyed slathering the hot emulsion
onto the girl's love seat, between Laura's widely
stretched thighs. She could actually feel the agony
Laura endured, struggling to snap her legs shut, in
futile attempts to evade the brush.
The wicked grande dame was in heaven. She tingled with
exhilaration. She almost orgasmed, watching her charge's
voluptuous body jerk and jump uselessly. Laura danced,
as her aunt used fingers and tweezers to peel away the
cooling wax in rude yanks. The woman took care to
prolong every painful moment, slowly yanking out every
hair by its root. Thelma was happy to find she needed to
re-wax Laura's eyebrows, armpits and the deep groove of
her buttocks.
Once satisfied with her work, which didn't come easy to
this perfectionist, Thelma rubbed the exhausted child's
sore body down vigorously. She used a stiff burlap bag
and was purposely rough when scouring, in order to snag
any bits of wax she may have missed.
For the next hour, with the aid of a rather large
magnifying glass, Thelma ran her eyes and coarse hands
over Laura's body. She searched for any hairs she may
yet have missed and tweezed the little buggers as she
discovered them. She then poured an astringent solution
into her hands and worked it into the girl's body. The
sting penetrated Laura's pores, causing her to scream
with a renewed vigor.
Finally, Thelma picked up a bucket of iced water and
emptied it onto Laura's body, dousing the girl entirely.
Laura would have shot off the table and flown away if
not secured down. In reality, she was reduced to
straining uselessly. Her body exploded in every
direction at once and her mind expanded to infinity, yet
she was caught in suspension.
Laura had not yet returned to her body when Thelma
turned off the light in the windowless prison. She left
the bewildered frightened girl alone in the dark, and
was careful to lock the door behind her.
Laura laid on her back, in pain and unable to move. The
events of the day were ravaging her mind and chasing her
about in a relentless pursuit. They ripped and tore
through her mental faculties, like hungry lions through
victims at the coliseum in Rome. She took a moment and
wondered why Thelma had bothered to lock the door when
she couldn't escape if she wanted to. Soon loneliness
filled her with ever more grief, until it was beyond the
unbearable. She was scared, scarred and sore, ever so
slowly catching her breath and senses. At least she
thought so.
She tried once again to make herself believe it was all
just a dream, a terrible nightmare from which she would
soon awaken. She would find herself safe and sound,
nestled in the comforts of her own bed, hugging her
favorite teddy bear. But she couldn't move, couldn't
even hug herself.
The pains in her wrists, her aching jaw, the tingling
sensations left by the rough burlap bag and the
unbearable shame she bore; her virgin body bared, legs
spread indecently wide, pinned open like the legs of a
poor frog in a biology class, sacrificed for the sake of
science and another's pleasure, was simply 'too real,'
and the experience overwhelmed her. She broke down into
tears again, as if she'd ever stopped.
It was the soft sounds of her whimpering, echoing round
the dark room like a sweet lullaby, that sang her to
sleep, easing her into dreams of pleasures most painful.
***
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 82