by Amelia Stark
The housekeeper returns to the bath, turns the tap on and I immediately feel warm water flow into my rectum and begin filling my bowel. I stand still, on my hands and knees, and decide that the sensation is quite pleasant, until my stomach starts to feel a little heavy.
Carla kneels beside me, places her hand under my belly and begins to rub and massage the growing bulge and tightening skin. I start to become alarmed when my stomach begins to cramp, which is accompanied by a dull ache that spreads along my tummy.
“Er… Miss, I can’t take any more!”
“Quiet!” she orders, slapping my vulnerable ass.
The pain gets worse, but the housekeeper ignores me, while all the time, rubbing my bloated tummy.
“Please, no more!” I plead for her to stop, because it feels as though my stomach is going to burst.
Finally, she stands and returns to the bath to stop the flow of water. Then it’s poor Maria’s turn to get on her hands and knees and have her bowels filled by the wretched woman. I watch Maria’s stomach as the water flows in, aghast at such a sight. When the housekeeper finally turns the tap off, we both look as though we’re 6 months pregnant!
The housekeeper then makes us climb back into the bath and sit down in the warm soapy water for ten minutes, still with our plugs firmly planted in our butt holes. I’m so full and my tummy has become so hard and painful, I find it difficult to climb out when Carla wants us to relieve ourselves.
I point my ass at the loo, while she removes the plug and the contents of my bowel cascade out into the pan. The bathroom has two toilets, so Maria and I are able to wait together until we’re completely empty. Why, I wonder, do they want to completely clean our bowels out?
We have to suffer the ignominy of having the plugs returned to our butts and are then told to have another quick dip in the hot bath. When we return to the bedroom, we find Sabina sitting on the bed beside two piles of clothing and bondage devices. The full-figured woman is wearing a tight one piece leather cat suit and looks every bit a dominatrix. The addition of a wicked looking riding crop warns us that she’s in no mood to fool around.
My body is still feeling the after-effects of the punishing strokes and dildos from her earlier sadistic treatment and even though the bath has helped, my nerve endings are still jangling. I certainly don’t like the idea of another bondage session or the look of the items we’re going to have to wear.
“Sit on the bed, so I can dress you in these clothes,” she orders.
Sabina starts with a pair of weird shaped, thigh length boots. The soles are wedge shaped, so that when we stand up in them, out heals are a good 6” higher than our toes. The whole boot is solid and has a soft sole that flares out, giving us an oval shaped contact with the ground. Six heavy clamps down the side of each boot lock the sides together, making the footwear very tight.
“Walk around the room,” Sabina urges us.
I follow Maria who stumbles at first, but we soon get the hang of the strange platform footwear. Because of the way the boots have been constructed, we have to stick our butts back to keep our balance as we walk. We look very strange, naked and strutting around in the extraordinary boots! I’m surprised to find that they are very comfortable and stable to walk in.
“Girls, I want you to get dressed in these clothes. We are going out soon, so you’ve got to be quick. The green is for Maria and the red for English. You understand” the large woman asks whacking her crop in her hand.
We nod and look at each other with wary expressions on our faces.
When I pick up the leather corset and place it round my waist, Sabina drops her crop and helps me to fasten the front clasps, while Maria watches. It’s a beautiful garment made from the finest leather with red piping and laces, but I have to squeeze into it, even though I’m thinner than I’ve ever been!
“Now kneel down on the floor, so I can tighten the laces.” Sabina orders.
I get down onto my hand and knees, so she can pull the laces and draw the sides of the garment together.
“Ahhhhrrr…!” I moan as my ribs and tummy are crushed by the restrictive tightness of the garment. “That… that’s too tight, I moan. SWATT!
“Owww…!” I yelp in surprise when she whacks my bruised butt with her crop, sending a flash of pain through my nether region.
As soon as she finishes, I discover that the leather corset is curved and is forcing me into a strange bowed posture. It’s bearable on my hands and knees, but what will it be like when I get to my feet?
“Shut up girl, spread those knees and drop your shoulders. I want to see your whore cunt!”
I shuffle into position and feel her fingers begin to part my labia and grasp my clit bauble. Once Sabina has a grip of the tiny ball, I suddenly feel a sharp nip as something grips the very base of my clit, leaving me with a dull ache when she removes her fingers. I’ve only just recovered from the initial piercing, so I’m really angry to have the dull pain return.
I squat there on my hands and knees, being forced to dip my back by the leather corset and watch Sabina fit Maria’s corset and clit clamp. Poor Maria looks to be really suffering when Sabina tightened the laces. When the clit clamp is in place the poor girl bursts into tears.
“Get up whores. Help each other stand up!” she orders.
I climb to my feet stiffly, trying to adjust to being squeezed half to death. I’m up first and find that I can’t straighten my body, so in order to lean forward to help Maria, I have to bend my knees and stick my butt back even further.
I carefully help her to her feet and whisper in her ear that I’m hurting as much as she is. I see that she’s as confused as I am about the purpose of the outfit, although I’m beginning to have the germ of an idea.
Sabina opens a box and lifts out an aluminium collar, which is different to the one we’d been made to wear during the night, but is a similar design.
The wide collar has an inverted ‘T’ connected to it and I watch Sabina unhinge the two parts, push the sides of the ‘T’ over my shoulders and then close the collar and ‘T’ together, so that my neck is captured and the stem of the ‘T’ points downwards against my backbone.
Sabina locates a pin through the devise and then padlocks it in place. She then places matching cuffs around my wrists and locks them, before pulling my wrists up my back and connecting them to the horizontal bar of the hanging ‘T’.
The collar is padded, so relatively comfortable, but is shaped at the front to lift our chins and stretch our necks. I’m completely incapacitated and have to stand and watch Sabina repeat the process on Maria who has become an anxious wreck. Then the dominatrix picks up a devise I don’t like the look of at all. It’s clearly a gag, with two circles of wire, one an inch behind the other. The devise has curved sides which I deduce will wrap round the sides of our faces.
“Please,” I pleaded. “I don’t want…!” She cuts me off.
“Shut up and open your mouth!” I look into her cold, grey-blue eyes and see her steely determination to dominate me.
I cower back and reluctantly open my mouth, knowing that if I don’t, she’ll start beating me again. Sabina has to hold my chin, while she feeds the double ring into my mouth and push the wings around my cheeks.
Once she’s buckled the straps over and round my head the rings pull deeper into my mouth, forcing my jaw to stretch open, while trapping my tongue beneath the back ring. Maria watched wide eyed, while mine was fitted and begins to sob again when Sabina mercilessly straps hers in place.
Now that we’re speechless and unable to use our hands, I wonder what she’ll do next. I notice the leather hoods lying on the bed and dread having to wear one again, but when she picks it up, I see that it’s different from the sensory deprivation hood we were forced to wear earlier.
This one has small holes for my eyes and a round hole to line up with the ring gag. Sabina squeezes it over my head and after folding my hair into the hood, zips it up at the back, before fastening the neck over the alu
minium collar. After she’s completed Maria’s hood, we parade around the room again to show the dominatrix what we look like in the whole outfit. She keeps us strutting around with little flicks of her crop, scaring the shit out of me. It dawns on me that we’re about to be taken somewhere and forced to perform in the ridiculous outfits!
“Right, follow me,” she orders, having satisfied herself we’re steady on our feet. We follow her out of the bedroom, then one by one Sabina helps us slowly down the stairs and out into the garage.
A white van is standing in the vast space with its rear doors open, clearly waiting for us to arrive. I see Bruno approach and as we arrive at the back of the van, he helps me up into the dark cavity. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but when details become clearer, I stop dead on the spot. Two empty wooden boxes are standing on the deck, each one about 30 inches cubed and I know instantly they are going to put me in one.
“Get in!” Ordered Bruno, who has climbed up behind me.
He’s also holding a riding crop in his hand and is already swishing it in the air. I shake my head and try to move backward, because I’m terrified of being put in one of the boxes. THWATT! A blow lands on my thigh, sending a flash of pain up my side. I stumble and crash against the side of the van.
“Fuck!” I hear Bruno yell. “Give me a hand,” He’s speaking to Carla and together they drag me to my feet and lift me off the ground. I’m in a panic, kicking and trying to throw myself around, but they easily hoist my feet over the side of the box and force me to kneel on the floor.
All my protestations are in vain, because my arms are out of action and I can’t put up any real resistance to being forced down into the box. Bruno forces me to sit back on my heels and then bend forward, so that my head is lower than my hands.
I hear the lid shut above me and someone start to hammer nails round the edges, ensuring I’ll never be able to escape. I don’t normally suffer from claustrophobia, but the moment everything goes black, I begin to panic and try and bash my way out of the box. I hurt my head and my shoulders, as I rock from side to side in the confined space, but the container is made from strong materials and I have little or no effect on its structure.
I eventually calm down realizing that I’m safe in the box. I can breathe and I’m not being abused, so I resume my original position and find by leaning on one side of the crate, I can get reasonably comfortable.
I feel the engine start and the van begin to move out of the garage, before heading off toward our destination. I’m filled with trepidation, for I’m sure that it will be a place where we’re both going to suffer a lot more brutality and humiliation!
Chapter 29
The vibrations through the wooden crate help me to doze off for a while, but the journey takes several hours and I’m miserable and uncomfortable for most of the time. The plug in my butt causes a dull ache in my ass and the clamp on my clit bauble becomes almost unbearable.
My head seems to be slowly cooking in the leather hood and my arms and shoulders have been killing me ever since I was pushed down into the crate. The van eventually comes to a halt and I hear doors opening and closing. I’m getting frantic and I want to scream out that I need a pee.
The crate is on the move again, but it feels as though it’s being dragged to the back of the van. Then I feel it being lifted, before being put down onto what I think is a trolley. Eventually the crate is dumped on the floor and someone starts to withdraw the nails that hold the crate together.
It’s such a relief to be able to lift my head, when the top is finally removed, and I can see daylight again. The interior of the crate had become stiflingly hot, so I’m immediately shocked by the blast of cold air that hits me.
I’m surprised to discover that I’m in a well lit room, which has a high vaulted ceiling. I peer over the edge to see two workmen in blue overalls, busy opening a second crate, which I assume is Maria’s.
Several other workmen are gathered around, who turn to look in my direction when I stand up to stretch my aching muscles. In fact as soon as they see that I’m naked, apart from my corset and hood, their eyes pop and begin to ogle my nakedness. There are six other similar crates, dotted around the room, which have already been opened, so I immediately assume that we’ll be joining a large group of girls.
Suddenly a loud voice, which I recognise as Bruno’s, calls out something in Italian and the men turn their attention back to work on the other crate. Bruno approaches, but remains silent, while they rip the top off it.
I’m relieved to see Maria rise shakily from the box. Another order is issued in Italian and two men each help Maria and I climb from the boxes. Together, they take a firm grip of our arms and we all follow Bruno into an adjoining room.
I look around at the men ahead of me, who are studying Maria’s naked ass, which projects back in a lewd manner. The corset forces her to dip her back and display her thrusting meaty cunt, which is framed in between her white, curvaceous upper thighs. I want to die, because I know that my ass and cunt are on display for all the men around to examine at their leisure.
The second room is full of people gathered around in groups of about four or five. In between the groups I catch glimpses of chrome structures that look a little bit like supermarket trolleys.
The carts I’ve spotted, are a bit lower and narrower with a curved leather section down the centre. 12” wheels with inflated tyres are attached at the end of four legs, which splay out, giving the cart a low centre of gravity. Then I see one moving and suddenly realize that it has a girl, dressed like me, strapped to the curved top.
The young woman on the trolley is wearing an identical outfit to the one I’m wearing. However, her corset has purple piping and trim, and I notice that her legs and feet, which hang down from the back of the cart are propelling the vehicle along.
It’s a bizarre sight to see three people escorting the girl on the trolley to the end of the room, through a large door, and out into the cold fresh air. Her naked butt glistens in the bright lights and like mine, displays a considerable amount of bruising, from being thrashed in the recent past.
Another thing that catches my eye is her tail. An 18”, black, pony-like plume of hair rising from her butt crack into the air, before dipping realistically at the end.
The men steer me toward an empty cart where Sabina is standing with another lady. I walk in an awkward stance, with my butt sticking back and my breasts thrusting forward, aware that I can’t stand upright in the restrictive corset. The two women are dressed in dominant clothing, in that they are both wearing leather outfits. The Taller lady is dressed in a brown cat-suit, while Sabina has changed into a black mini-dress and knee length boots, which I think suits her more than the cat suit.
“Ah, Steph, my English whore has arrived! What do you think? Can she win the race?”
Her comment alarms me. For fucks sake! Surely they don’t expect me to race in this damn contraption?
The stranger reaches out, grasps my right breast and gives it a squeeze, before tweaking my cherry-pip.
“Mmmm, she’s sleek,” she comments and then grabs one of my ass cheeks. I squirm when her fingers slip along the oily, twin roll of my firm labia.
“Mmm, she’s a bit lively and she’s got a bit of meat on her,” she adds, squeezing my labium lips together. “I’m impressed by her shape, but looks can be deceiving and this needs developing,” she adds with a final squeeze of my bulging lips.”
“All in good time Steph, this is her first outing, so we’ll take care of her appearance later.”
I blush at the woman’s animal-like comments and fear that I’m about to be turned into some sort of racing machine.
I’m helpless as Sabina takes one of my arms and with the assistant, bends me forward and forces me to lay along the body of the cart. Where my tummy rests, the leather padding is comfortable, but my breasts hang down at the end of the pad and where my chin rests in a leather cup, I’m very uncomfortable.
She passes a str
ap over my leather hood, clamping my head in place on the chin rest and another strap is fastened over my lower back, effectively locking me on the cart.
Sabina starts to fiddle with my hood and open two slots, cut into the side of the leather, before attaching something to the wings of the wire gag. As soon as she pulls on the attachments, I can tell that she’s fastened a pair of reins to what is effectively a bridle round my head.
I gulp anxiously when she withdraws a black tail from the bag on the ground, because it has an odd looking socket on its end. Grabbing the tail, Sabina disappears behind me and screws it into a hole on the end of the silicone butt plug occupying my rectum. I’m relieved that the tail hasn’t caused me anymore pain and pleased with the swishing sensation when I sashay my buttocks!
“Now English, follow me and I’ll take you to the track for a practice run.” She grabs the reins and gives them a tug, so I start to propel the cart, by walking forward. The front wheels turn in whichever direction I want to go and I quickly discover that I can steer the cart by twisting my shoulders and controlling the direction with my feet.
I shiver as I walk out into the freezing, evening mountain air and wonder if I’ll be able to survive being virtually naked. I’m extremely envious of the owners and handlers who are well wrapped up in their various leather and rubber outfits. The chin harness and constricting strap over my hood, mean I can’t turn my head, but I can see enough, when we emerge from the building, to literally take my breath away.
I’ve been to several horse race meetings and witnessed the atmosphere, and seen how the people congregate around the animals. Well, it’s the same here, only they’re all examining the girls on the trolleys. Everybody is milling around in a large grassy enclosure and probably betting on which one of us will win a race.
Sabina leads me over toward the throng, where several men detach themselves from a group and walk over to examine me. Hands immediately begin to fondle my buttocks, thighs and thrusting labia, which horrifies me intensely. I can’t help fidgeting about and trying to move my cart to avoid the men’s searching fingers.
