Learning 4 | free bondage story



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My life began to settle into a type of routine, however bizarre it might be. I rarely if ever slept in bed with Adam now. Typically, he would lead me by a leash into the bedroom at night, unlock my wrists from my waist and reattach them together behind my back. Fairly early on, he realized that this little change allowed enough adjustment in my circulation to avoid having to unbind my elbows. Each night, he would find new ways to use me, and with little control over my own body, I was forced to submit. His favorite was adding a spreader bar between my knees, then folding me up so the short chain between my ankles would fit behind my neck. On my back like this, I was completely vulnerable. Adam would begin by cropping my bare pussy until I cried, then enter my asshole roughly. He knew the anal penetration was the worst thing to me, and he fucked me with relish, watching my face with a smile as I continued to cry. Once close to orgasm, he would pull out and crawl up near my face, ordering me to extend my tongue. With that he would come on my tongue. The twist he enjoyed the most, was ordering me not to swallow. He would unhook my legs, pull me to the floor and chain me, usually by the large nose ring, to a heavy ring set in the floor beside the bed.

"I saw how much come was in your mouth, slave," he would say. "I expect to see it still in your mouth in the morning." He would then climb into bed and fall asleep, leaving me bound on the floor, the sticky goo of his orgasm coating my mouth.

Early on in this game, I had swallowed once, and regretted it ever since. He had returned me to the basement for a week of constant punishment. After that time, I never disobeyed him again.

By morning, he would unchain me, then take off the corset. I would be led into a bathroom, and into a glass shower stall with dual shower heads. My first response anywhere was to kneel, and would spend the first ten minutes on the floor of the shower as Adam washed himself. He would then lift me to my feet, connecting a cable from the ceiling to my nose ring, then pull the opposite end until I was on my toes, tying the end off to a mount on the wall. He would then carefully clean me, check my various piercings and soap me down. A hose connected to the water flow would be forced up my ass, and the water shifted from one of the shower heads into me. Adam would keep it in me until he could see my stomach distended, then pull the hose out and quickly replace it with a butt plug. Next the hose would go up my pussy, the sharp flow washing me out thoroughly. Sometimes he would give me the enema first, forcing me to endure the cramping in my intestines while he leisurely washed my hair or examined my piercings. Once through, though, he would lead me by the nose to the toilet, allowing me to release. He had installed a bidet, so I was then washed off again by warm water. This part became one of the few things I looked forward to each day.



He next laced me back in my corset. At the beginning of all this, I had a 22 inch waist. The third corset he had recently put on me would close to 16 inches. I knew it wasn't closed, and may never, but I figured I had to be down to 19 inches at least. He had a heavy posture collar mounted on a short bar extending from the wall in the bathroom, and this is how he held me in place as he tugged on the laces. I couldn't see anything but the wall five inches in front of my face, but I could feel him pulling harder and harder, and I could feel my waist being forced into a tiny form. From the trouble I was having with breathing, I had no doubt I was small. Finally, he reattached my wrists to the sides of the corset.

The rest of the day consisted of me waiting at his side in his office, kneeling with my legs spread wide and my head bowed. I would hold absolutely still for hours on end, knowing that if my nipple bells rang, I would receive a harsh punishment. From time to time, he would order me to crawl under the desk and pleasure him, often to multiple orgasms. I learned quickly how to use the piercings in my tongue up and down his cock to make him come quickly. I knew from my night experiences, that I shouldn't swallow his come, holding it in my mouth. For the first few weeks, I had to struggle not to gag on it. As the thick, sticky liquid cooled down, it congealed, and the taste turned from sweet to sour. I hated swallowing it then, but the permission to do so was enough of a reward that I didn't mind it much.

Now and then, Adam would invite friends over, then order me to pleasure them. I hated this, because most of them were not fetish friends, but open minded normal friends of his. Seeing me as a slave at his feet, pierced and bound, sent them into hysterics. I was ordered to beg them, in my slurred speech, to fuck me up the ass. Some of them could tell I truly hated this from the humiliated expression I couldn't conceal, but they all tried to give me what I wanted.

I figured I had been Adam's slave for nearly four months by now. Catching sight of myself in the mirror brought tears to my eyes, as I didn't recognize myself. My breasts had grown even larger now, and though they retained the perfect shape of my originals, the size had grown immensely. Large enough now to press against each other, when I turned my back to the mirror, I could see at least a third of each breast extending away from my sides. I was secretly glad, in a twisted way, that I wore the corset. The weight of my own breasts now would have made standing a pain on my back.

My waist was so small that, combined with my breasts, I had an exaggerated hourglass shape now. I knew Adam had trouble finding any more room to lace the corset tighter, and though it wasn't closed, it couldn't be more than an inch and a half from it.

I had begun to forget what it was like to be free. After days of the same routine, of being totally controlled, and living with my body changes and piercings, I couldn't really remember what it was like without it all. In the back of my mind, I knew that my six months would come eventually, but I wondered if I would notice.

Adam announced that a special guest was coming over that night, and that I was to be on my best behavior. I was cleaned up before dinner, then led to the living room. Adam had setup a short pole in the middle of the room. He moved my wrists back behind my back, locking them in place, then had me kneel on the floor in front of the pole. My ankles were clqmped to the base, as were my knees, then he had me rise up. Fumbling behind my neck, I could feel him affixing something to my collar. When he stepped back, I found I was locked between kneeling down and up on my knees. Connecting something to the pole halfway up, I could hear him turning something. Soon, a sharp point touched my back, making me arch my back to avoid it. As I did, he cranked it more. I cried out in pain as my back touched the point, and arched even more, despite the pain it created. He soon stepped back again. I was having trouble holding the extreme arch of my back, but had no choice if I didn't want to feel the sharp spike. I couldn't turn my head at all, and couldn't shift my legs. As tears built in my eyes, I realized I would have to hold the position until released. Adam smiled, wiping away the tears, then quickly brushed my hair. Finally, he pushed a ring gag into my mouth, strapping it on. I hadn't been gagged since I was released from the basement, so I knew this was a unique night. I couldn't even imagine what he had planned.

After holding my position for what must have been an hour, I was moaning in pain and frustration. When the doorbell rang, I was almost relieved, realizing that whatever was to happen, it would happen soon. The doorway was dark, and across the room, but I was sure I could only see one person enter. Slipping a coat off, I saw a young girl, dressed in a short skirt and tight cotton top, her face hidden as she turned away from me. I couldn't help but be angry. Adam had never needed another girl, and he knew I didn't like girls that way. My anger made me forget my exposed position. I realized then that the arch to my back made me force my huge tits out, the position highlighting my tiny waist and large chest. I didn't want anyone to see me like this, much less another woman, especially one who wasn't a slave. I figured I could handle another slave girl, but not some mistress that would do things to me.

Adam took the girl's hand and led her into the room. The tears in my eyes from the growing humiliation clouded my sight, making it hard for me to see the girl. I found myself closing my eyes anyway, not wanting to see my own humiliation reflected in this stranger's face.




"And here's the surprise I told you about," Adam said to the girl.

"Wow! She looks so hot!" The girl's voice echoed through my shocked head. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "When you told me that my sister was your slave, I didn't really believe you." As Cindy got closer, I opened my yes to see the wide grin on her face. She leaned over me, examining my face. "Hello, Laura. Bet you never thought you'd see me again, did you?" I closed my eyes, humiliated that my bitch of a sister was able to see my like this.

"I don't think she's happy to see you," Adam chuckled.

"I'm not surprised. She and I never got along. I guess I was always jealous of her body." I felt Cindy's fingers trace down my chest, cupping my huge tits in her hands. "I always thought she had perfect breasts, but now, these must really humiliate her."

"Feel free to examine her now, but you'll get plenty chances to do more later." I groaned at that, knowing that Adam didn't intend this to be just a short visit with my little sister. Cindy noticed this, leaning back into my face. Her thin finger slipped through my large nose ring, yanking it hard, bringing tears to my eyes.

"I guess Adam never told you, sis," she said, an evil tone to her voice. "He and I have been dating since you became his slave. I'm moving in with him, so you can be my slave, too!" I erupted in tears at this revelation, knowing that not only would I have to pleasure a woman, that I would have to endure my own sister's ideas of revenge from our childhood. As her fingers yanked and twisted my nipple rings, then my clit rings, I couldn't help but cry, feeling the tears rolling off my cheeks.



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