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From: thndrshark@earthlink.net (TS)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 18 Aug 2001 02:12:40 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Charlotte, Pt 3 by Thndrshark (bd, sm, pierce, corset, tor)
Date: Sun, 19 Aug 2001 03:10:03 -0400
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Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Charlotte 

Part 3

By Thndrshark



That weekend passed without Marcus commenting at all about the
piercings. At first she figured he had to wait until they fully
healed, but she soon found he would not hesitate to use them, at least
in minimal fashion, right away. As she sat on her knees beside him at
the dinner table that Sunday night, it was all she could do not to
stare at them as she kept her head bowed in the proper fashion. Her
face was still streaked with tears from the torture she had
experienced over the weekend, all in the name of training. Now, though
still in pain, the quiet moment seemed like a vacation. A slight
motion of her head made the bell attached to her nose ring jingle
slightly. The bells still hanging from her nipples and clit joined in
the chorus, though she fought to remain motionless. She had been
warned about making noise with her bells, and after the last two days,
she was truly fearful of the consequences Marcus' punishment might
bring.
     Immediately upon her return home that Friday, Marcus had fitted a
large ring through her new nose grommet, allowing it to dangle over
her top lip. Charlotte began to cry as she felt him affix the seamless
ring into place. The addition of this single piece of jewelry proved
to be the most humiliating. As the metal touched her face, she
imagined she had become simply an animal, a cow or worse. Attaching
short pieces of chain to her nipple and clit rings, he had fit small
bells to their ends. Now, as Charlotte was helped to her feet, she
rang with each step. Charlotte dropped her head in shame as Marcus
linked a chain leash to her nose ring and, with a tug, pulled her into
the adjoining room.
     Charlotte followed dutifully, but found herself glancing to the
side to see her reflection in a hall mirror. She found a familiar
girl, but being led in a most humiliating fashion by a new nose ring.
The gleam of the metal seemed to tease her, as did the jingle of the
bells. Her still tender nipple rings ached as the weight of the bells
tugged on them, as did her clit.
     Reaching the other room, Marcus pushed a large ball gag into her
mouth, strapping it on behind her. This she had grown accustomed,
though the device sometimes changed. Some days it would be a blow up
gag, or a spreader, or even a long dildo. As she stood waiting for the
rest of her bondage, she watched him pull new boxes from the floor.
Rather than the typical leather cuffs, he unboxed a new set of
stainless steel cuffs. As she stood before him, naked, she watched as
he fit the wide metal collar around her neck. Unlike her 2 inch collar
before, this one measured 4 1/2 inches wide. On Charlotte's small
frame it acted much like a posture collar, holding her head in an
upright position. She could feel the thin layer of rubber padding
Marcus had mounted on the inside of the metal, softening it slightly.
As he closed it, she could tell it was fit perfectly for her, almost
too perfectly. Pressing the ends together on the side, rather than the
back, she could feel the padding compress against her throat, pressing
firmly, until the ends met. Marcus slipped a thin pin into the seam,
then used a small wrench to screw it firmly in place. Once finished,
Charlotte could see no seams. The collar was one complete band, fit
snuggly to her neck, marred only by the heavy ring that dangled from
the front. Unlike the other collars, which felt snug but somehow
temporary, the feel of this steel on her neck made her feel even more
controlled. As she considered this feeling, Marcus removed four wide
bands from the box and moved behind her. She kept her head bowed as
best she could, but could feel him attaching snug cuffs just below her
elbows. As expected, they fit perfectly. She could feel him pulling
her elbows together, as was so common with her bondage, but she could
tell this one would be different. Once he pushed her elbows together,
and the new cuffs touched, she heard a click. His hands released but
her elbows stayed in contact. Marcus then fit the second set of cuffs
around her upper arms, halfway between her shoulder and elbow. After
some further fumbling, he reached around her for a small tool and
moved back behind her. She could feel him working, then a clicking
sound and, to her surprise, her elbows were pulled even closer
together. Another moment of fumbling, then more clicking. With a
shock, Charlotte realized he was slowly pulling her upper arms closer
and closer together. After 6 weeks of elbows touching through the
night, she had grown accustomed to the bondage. Now, as he wrenched
her upper arms even farther back, a more severe ache began in her
shoulders. Sensing her fear, Marcus turned her so her back faced a
wall mirror, then repositioned another mirror so she could watch.
Small cables had been fed in x fashion from an upper arm cuff, down to
the opposite elbow cuff, then back to the other upper arm cuff, and so
forth. The result was a type of winch system that, as Marcus turned
the center fitting, pulled the cable tighter, thus reducing the amount
of space between her upper arms. As he pulled it close, she watched
her shoulders pull back farther until her muscles banded from the
stress. She moaned in pain, hoping he would stop. Instead, Marcus
continued until her arms met at least 3 inches above her elbows.  The
pain was unbearable and tears coursed down her cheeks. Despite her
pain, Marcus continued, folding her upper arms as close as her joints
would allow before dislocating.  Charlotte could barely stand from the
pain as Marcus fit her hands in padded rubber gloves, laced her
fingers into a ball, her thumb buried under them, then fit another
latex covering over her hands. Not only could she not move her hands,
she couldn't feel her fingers touch each other. Cuffs attached to her
wrists and joined with a similar click, held her useless lower arms
together.
     Marcus pulled Charlotte over to the padded seat, and pushed her
back on it. Though her shoulders still screamed, she was beginning to
work through the pain. She knew she would gain no relief from Marcus
unless her circulation became a problem, and the past weeks had proven
she had excellent circulation. Pulling a new box from under the seat,
Marcus unpacked two rubber objects and a selection of small steel
hoops. Lifting her bare feet up, he began to fit the hoops around each
toe, like small, wide cuffs. After some experimentation, he fit each
toe with a cuff that fit snuggly, then began to slip the strange
rubber devices over her feet. She couldn't believe these were
considered shoes! Marcus' voice cut through the thick silence that had
surrounded them.
     "I know how much you like shoes, so I had these made special for
you." His smile was anything but warm. "They're called ballet shoes,"
he said as he pushed them onto her feet. Like a sharp V, the shoe was
designed to force Charlotte up on the very end of her toes. She now
could see the purpose for the small metal bands. If anything, they
would prevent her toes from breaking under the severe stress of being
walked upon. But surely Marcus didn't intend for her to walk like
this, Charlotte thought. Even the 10 inch needle thin spike of a heel
couldn't support her weight with her foot forced into a severe en
pointe. As she pondered this new torment, Marcus slipped the shoe into
place. The hard rubber exterior was padded slightly inside, but as her
toes pushed into the end of the shoe, she could tell the padding
wouldn't stop the pain of her feet being crushed into the point. Once
in position, Marcus fit the rubber straps through loops and began to
tighten them down. He alternated with the back strap, which extended
around her heel and back to the shoe. The result of pulling on this
strap was to force her foot even deeper into the shoe, until her toes
began to bend and shape into an arrow. After struggling for ten
minutes, Marcus seemed satisfied. Charlotte was sure she would never
be able to walk in these torturous devices. Her calf had already begun
to cramp from the extended position of her foot. After another ten
minutes, the other shoe was in place. Marcus attached similar,
seamless cuffs to her ankles, joined by a short four inches of chain,
then stood in front of her. His smile didn't warm her heart.
     "Stand up," he ordered. Charlotte looked up at him, pleading for
mercy, but Marcus would not wait. Grabbing her nose ring with his
finger, he yanked her upright with amazing strength, until her entire
weight rested on her toes. She cried out in pain, but Marcus held her,
moving behind her to let her see into the mirror. The pencil thin
heels were her only support as she tried to balance her weight between
toe and heel. Through tears, Charlotte saw an unfamiliar woman. Gone
was the timid and innocent Charlotte of a month and a half ago; the
button nose and youthful expression. Standing in front of her she saw
a naked woman, adorned with a ring through her bare clit, and more
through her nipples and nose. She was statuesque, her feet forced en
point by harsh rubber ballet shoes, her long, dark hair cascading
around a wide, steel collar around her neck, falling upon her breasts.
She appeared to have no arms, but her shoulders gave away the stress
they were under. Despite the fear she felt of being controlled as
effectively as she was, she found herself aroused as well. She watched
Marcus smile as he too enjoyed the sight, then attach a leash to her
nose ring and pull her out of the room. Charlotte took careful steps,
both due to the short chain between her ankles as well as the dark
pain growing in her feet.
     That night, after Marcus made love to her, he pulled her back on
her aching toes, walking her to the end of the bed. Charlotte began
lowering to the floor, expecting to be chained once again on the
hardwood. Instead, Marcus reached above her and, with a sharp pull,
lowered a chain from the ceiling. Charlotte could only watch as he
clipped the end to her nose ring, then moved to the wall and, with the
aid of an electric winch hidden somewhere nearby, raised the chain. He
lifted it enough to help support her, preventing her from falling
over, but not enough to provide any relief to her toes. Charlotte
couldn't imagine standing like this all night. Already, she was having
trouble maintaining balance, and despite the metal grommet that
strengthened her septum, she felt searing pain through her nose when
her balance slipped and she pulled on the chain. Charlotte tried to
beg, but the large ball gag in her mouth stifled any sound. Marcus
simply admired her for a moment, then crouched down at her feet. She
could feel him fumbling with her shoes and, after a moment, he stood
and showed her two thin metal rods. With a smile, he watched her for a
moment. As her balance on her toes began to slip, she instinctively
rocked back to her heels. But now she found nothing. Charlotte began
to cry as she realized he had unscrewed her heels, leaving her only
her toes for support. She stumbled and fought to remain vertical,
knowing the pain in her nose would provide ample encouragement. Each
step brought about a ring from the bells still dangling from her
piercings. There seemed to be no way to avoid making sound as she
struggled to stand on her tortured toes.
     "I'm going to sleep now. I want you to stand here quietly and not
move. If you wake me with the bells, I'll find something worse to
punish you with." With that, Marcus climbed into bed and shut off the
light, as Charlotte began a long night of pain.

     As Sunday morning came, Charlotte was exhausted. Without the
ability to rest, she had been forced to endure constant pain as her
toes slowly formed to fit the sharp point of her new shoes. Her face
was stained with tears, but she had long since cried herself out. Her
calves had began burning early in the night, both from the pain of
being extended by the horrible shoes, but also by the rigid stance she
had been forced to maintain to avoid any sound of her bells. Once
during the night, after what seemed like hours of struggle, she had
accidentally nodded off, slumping to the end of the chain connected to
her nose ring. The sudden pain in her nose jerked her awake as she
went rigid again. The bells connected to her clit and nipple rings
sounded out loudly, and a moan erupted from Charlotte's throat as she
saw Marcus rise in anger.
     "One simple order, and you couldn't obey," he said. He slipped
out of bed and moved behind her. For a moment, Charlotte lost track of
him, until a whistling sound gave her a seconds warning. A cane fell
down hard against the back of her thigh. Charlotte screamed behind her
gag, tears springing from her eyes as Marcus began a harsh caning.
Endless strokes landed on her ass, thighs and calves, until they
burned with white-hot pain. It was all Charlotte could do to stay
conscious. She danced on her toes, the pain from them now outmatched
by the harsh welts that rose across her legs. Finally, Marcus
finished, dropping the cane in front of her as he climbed back into
bed. He didn't need to warn her again. Charlotte endured the pain in
her toes to avoid any further torture. Only the soft sounds of her
whimpering disturbed the silence in the bedroom.
      Now, hours later, the cramping felt like nails being driven
through her legs. She was desperate to escape this newest torment, but
could only wait and pray that Marcus would wake soon and release her.
But as the sun rose and her master awoke, he seemed pleased to see her
still standing, as if she had an option. Rising, he grabbed his robe
and slipped it on, reaching out to caress her body. She cried out as
his fingers traced lines over the welts now lacing her ass and legs.
Then, as Charlotte awaited release, he left the room. A moan erupted
from her throat and echoed down the hall after him.

     By midday, Charlotte thought she would soon faint from the
combination of pains, as well as the lack of sleep. She bordered on
hysterics, but with no way of releasing her panic, she could feel her
will breaking. Soon, she knew, she would be forever changed into a
willing slave, just as she new Marcus hoped for. He reappeared then,
smiling and nibbling on a pear. She moaned as his hands gasped her
nipple rods and twisted, the bell connected to the ring behind it
sounding out merrily as he let go.
     "I bet you're hungry," he said. "And you probably have to go the
bathroom." Charlotte tried to nod, but found it difficult and painful.
He took another bite from his pear and disappeared again.

     Charlotte watched as the grey sludge slowly oozed from the bag
overhead into her feeding tube. She was happy that she didn't have to
taste it, but humiliated by her lack of participation in any bodily
functions. Upon his return, Marcus had carefully slipped a large butt
plug up Charlotte's ass, then inflated it to hold it in place. What
she couldn't see were the two large enema bags that soon began filling
her up with warm liquid. As she squinted her eyes with embarrassment,
and soon pain, she sensed Marcus in front of her. A sharp pain told
her he was fitting her with a catheter. Soon, she could feel her
bladder emptying despite her resistance. Finally, Marcus had removed
her gag, and clipped a small chain to the grommet in her tongue, then
pulled hard until her tongue was forced far from her mouth. The chain
reached down to her crotch. As he released the chain, Charlotte
instinctively pulled her tongue back in, only to find it connected to
her clit ring. The pain was excruciating, and she was forced to hold
her tongue out far. With a nonchalant attitude, Marcus slowly began
feeding a large plastic tube into Charlotte's mouth. As it reached the
back of her throat, she began to choke.
     "Swallow," Marcus ordered. "And keep swallowing." The tube was
pushed further and further down her throat, until she could tell it
had reached her stomach. Hanging a bag above her head, he attached the
tube to the bottom of it, then released the valve.
     Now, the bag nearly empty, Charlotte felt humiliated. She had
hoped with her need to eat and go to the bathroom, that she might be
allowed even a moment of relief. She realized that Marcus had found a
way to remove even those basic forms of humanity. A new fear rose in
her heart as she began to understand how little of her old self she
would be allowed to keep. She had imagined being a slave more a
romantic idea that she learned from movies. Now, as she found she no
longer controlled her own life, she knew that being Marcus' slave
would be far different than she could imagine.

     Charlotte struggled to maintain her balance as she fought to keep
up with the rapid pace of the machine. After her feeding, Marcus had
decided she needed exercise, and attached her to the large treadmill
he had adapted for her. A series of chains connected her piercings to
the ramp, while rubberized straps stretched from the ceiling to her
collar and arm cuffs. She felt him fumble with her hair, lacing it
into a ponytail, then pull her head back harshly. As he released her
head, she found that her hair had been tied off, forcing her to bend
her neck back harshly and stare at the ceiling. A large ball gag was
stuffed into her mouth. She could see the rubber straps connected over
her head, and the springy quality of the material as she tried to flex
her knees. They held her in the middle of the track, still balancing
precariously on her toes. New tears had erupted from her as she
realized what she was required to do. The chains connected to each of
her rings would ensure she kept in the center, and did not slump. The
rubber straps would prevent her from falling, without providing much
relief from her tortured feet. As he reached to the panel and
activated a session, Charlotte whimpered.
     "I think four hours should be a good start," he said, keying in
the time. As he hit the start button, the track began to roll, and
Charlotte stumbled forward. Quickly she could tell the combination of
her arms in bondage, the position of her head and the ballet shoes
would make walking difficult and painful. Despite this, within
minutes, she found a pace that matched the machine, and once again she
focused on the pain of her feet. She cried openly, tears rolling off
her cheeks and down her breasts, onto the tread like a soft rain. But
even Marcus ignored them, choosing to enjoy her exercise for a moment
before settling into a chair with a book. A layer of sweat soon joined
the tears on her body.
      Ten minutes into her exercise, the treadmill suddenly began to
speed up, and the ramp inclined, creating the feeling that Charlotte
was running up a hill. She cried out behind the gag and fought to keep
up. A sharp tug on her clit ring told her she was falling behind. Her
feet screamed in pain as she began to run, but soon she was keeping
up. Her breath came raggedly through her nose, but the addition of her
breathing tubes allowed her plenty of breath despite her struggle.
     As she ran in her toe shoes, each step brought a new scream from
her throat. Her toes seemed to have jammed into a needle point now.
She was certain they had broken from the force of her body on them.
Sweat poured down her body and into her eyes, puddling in her sockets
as she tried to shrug the liquid off. She was certain she would faint
soon, and began to brace herself for the inevitable. The pain had now
coursed through her body, numbing her to most of her tortures. But
just as she was certain she would no longer be able to move, the
treadmill slowed and leveled out, returning to a walk. The change was
heaven to Charlotte as she caught her breath and tried to enjoy the
lessened pressure on her feet. Compared to the running, she felt she
could go on like this forever. But as she relaxed, she sensed a change
and just as quickly, the treadmill sped up even faster, increasing the
angle as she wailed and tried to keep up, new tears filling her eyes.


End of Part 3

comments, questions always welcome at thndrshark@earthlink.net
visit my website at www.gwenmedia.com/thndrshark.htm

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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