~Subject: FANTASIA: Moira's Breasts  (fm, nc, s/m etc)
~From: an117711@anon.penet.fi
~Date: Mon, 29 Aug 1994  (a.s.stories)


                  * * * * * * * * * * * * *
                       MOIRA'S BREASTS
                       by J.P. Viddler

    The cord bit into my wrists, and I knew it was no use to try to
loosen it, though I knew that my position, hands behind my back,
was making my breasts thrust toward him. I was conscious of them
rising and falling against my cotton blouse, but I couldn't control
my frightened breathing. I could only stand facing him and watch
him looking at them.

   John could always tell what I was thinking. "Yes, Moira," he
said now. "They are exciting, moving that way. and no, I don't wish
to stop looking at them. In fact, I'm looking forward to putting my
hands on them any minute now."

   "John," I said, as steadily as I could. "You are a bastard."

   "You may as well stop tugging at your wrists, Moira," John said.
"You cannot get away. You are my prisoner now."

   "John," I said. "You can't do this. You know you can't."

   "Oh, do stop, Moira," John said. "And say something nice, for a
change. For instance, you could say, `John, I would like you to put
your hands on my sexy round breasts.' Do say that, Moira."

   "Go to hell," I said. It was foolish of me to say it. I knew
what he would say.

   "All right," John said. "I'll just make that call, shall I?"

   I almost sank to my knees.

   "No," I said, choking.

   "What?" John said. "I can't hear you, Moira."

   "No," I said again. "No, don't."

   "Say please," John said.

   Shame and loathing rose up in me, but I choked it down.
"Please," I said.

   And John said, "Right. Now say, John, I would like you to put
your hands on my sexy round breasts."

   I swallowed hard. I was shaking. I would have given anything not
to submit to him. But I had no choice.

   "John," I whispered.

   "I can't hear you, Moira," John said, grinning.

   I wanted to spit at him. But I said, louder, "John--I... would
like you...to put your--your hands...on my...sexy round  
b-breasts."

   "Oh, good," John said mockingly. And he put up his hands.
Instinctively, I took a step back.

   John said nothing. He waited.

   I bit my lip. And I stepped forward.

   And John put his hands on my breasts.

   I didn't move.

   "How soft and firm they are," John said. "Ask me to squeeze
them, Moira."

   I shut my eyes.

   "No," John said. "Open your eyes and ask me."

   "I--" I couldn't. But I must. "Squeeze them," I said.

   "Please," John said.

   "P-please," I got out.

   John clamped his hands hard. I felt his fingers digging into my
flesh. I felt as though my breasts were in a vise. I cried out and
tried to move away.

   "Don't move!" John commanded.

   I stopped. I twisted in his grasp. I bit at my lip, moans coming
from my mouth.

   "Hurt?" John said. "Hurt, Moira? I'm so glad."

   "John, please--" I moaned.

   "No, Moira. No. I want it to hurt. I want you to suffer pain.
This is just a beginning."

   "I can't! Stop!" I howled. John was panting, watching my
twisting, squirming bound body.

   "Moira," he panted. "Tell me to squeeze harder. Go on. Say,
harder John. Harder!"

   "No! My go!" I cried frantically.

   "Say it!" John demanded. "Say it or by god, you know what I'll
do!"

   "For god's sake--"

   "Say it!"

   "Oh Jesus god, all right!" I was sobbing now with the awful
pain, crying and writhing, but I had to say it. "Harder!" I sobbed.
"Oh god, do it harder, oh you bastard, harder!"

   "Yes!" John said, and clamped with all his might.

   "Aaarrrggghhh!" I screamed, spasming with agony. "AUUUGGHHHH! Oh
no stop AARRRGGHH no more fuck me please..."