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Torment For Tiffany (Bruce McLachlan)


Torment For Tiffany by Bruce McLachlan

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    • Average 4.0 from 3 ratings

Tiffany’s sister Lucinda is trapped, literally, in a metal frame, in a helmet stuffed with foam, gagged, bound and used solely for breeding pony slaves!

Tiffany, a secret masochist, has fantasised for years about being held as her sister was, so when her chance comes, she takes it.

She persuades the breeder. Moore, to put her into the frame alongside her sister, with the added proviso that she is dealt with by a dominatrix and regularly given sexual relief.

What she doesn’t foresee is that her other sister, Beatrice, will delight in being her tormentor.

Tiffany’s torment has only just begun ...

Product type: EBook    Published by: Fiction4All    Published: 4 / 2014

No. words: 35000

Style: Fem Dom - F/F, Male Dom - M/F, Sex Slavery / Training

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle


Excerpt

Chapter 1

The whole family watched as Lucinda strained against her bonds. The frame had been designed and implemented by her husband; it controlled her body so tightly that the fight to move was almost invisible.
The rigors of the apparatus had been severely increased to suit yet another session of impregnation. Every part of her was once more at thrumming tension and filled with the most grievous stress. She should have gotten used to it after all this time, but clearly each occasion was just as hard to endure as the first.
Anticipation hung heavy while they awaited the arrival of the stud and the following voyeuristic feast when Lucinda was ravished for the sake of family profits.
The smell of hay and sweat was strong in the room. It easily eclipsed the subtler scent of the countryside and the delicate perfumes worn by the women who watched the event.
Tiffany shifted uneasily and continued to scrutinize her eldest sister languishing impotently in utter immobility. The sight was bringing out the usual responses in Tiffany and she had to distract herself with less tantalizing views of the stable lest the signs of her growing arousal be noticed.
She still couldn't explain her fascination with Lucinda's fate. She had spent anxious nights and frustrated days trying to discern what it was that compelled her to dwell on the bondage her sister endured.
Tiffany didn't want anyone even suspecting such notions existed until she had properly classified them. So far she had barely even begun. Lucinda was, to her, luscious in her distress. Her firm, shapely legs were spread into an aching split by the poles at the base of the frame. Tiffany recalled that Lucinda had always covered her legs, be it by pantyhose, stockings, leggings formed from a diaphanous layer of nylon or a tight cocoon of latex that served to encase the skin. Her incarceration here dictated they would stay naked and exposed forever.
Her hoof boots wiggled a little in the air; this was the only motion she was truly allowed by the apparatus containing her. The cradle that kept her body level with the floor allowed her ample breasts to slip through, the rings in her nipples sparkling despite the dim light of the stall.
Tensioners had been applied to each circle of steel to stretch her breasts out towards distant rings in the floor. These distorted the shape of Lucinda’s assets and made her quake with distress.
A monstrous rectal plug had been crammed ruthlessly into her pert, inviting rear. The smallest portion emerged through her stretched sphincter to anchor another tensioner, this one to her head. It hauled her back and bent her into an agonized arch.
Lucinda had been in the faceless anonymity of her hood for so long that Tiffany could barely remember what her eldest sister looked like. The egg helmet responsible was a bulbous burnished dome that left her with two eyeholes by which all could judge her continuing anxiety.
As part of the ritual for preparing her for mounting, a steel harness had been set upon the normally barren surfaces. The tip caught the other end of the tensioner, drawing her head painfully back until she was contorted into a spectacularly vulnerable pose.
Lucinda's skin was pale from living in the artificial light of the stall. She never saw the sun, only the large mirror placed before her horrified eyes that endlessly revealed every nuance of her dismay. For every second of every day she had to see in full clarity what she had been reduced to.
Her elbows jiggled in the air. She was nervously awaiting the arrival of her sponsored lover and yet another term of pregnancy to sire foals for her owner. Her restructured wrists merged seamlessly with her hips, her hands having been removed during the initial period of her enslavement.
There had been a rumor that her husband had applied the neural transmitters that allowed the owner of sundered body parts to receive all the sensory input of their limbs, no matter what distance separated the two. Thus Lucinda could still feel and move her lost hands, could explore what they were placed on and suffer any punishment to them without anyone in the stall ever knowing what it was that made her dance and react so violently.
Lucinda had annoyed her husband once too often for his liking and had been doomed by her own arrogance. Tiffany could well understand how he could become so enraged. Throughout her childhood and adolescence Lucinda had been a baleful presence in not only hers, but the lives of the whole family. She was haughty and arrogant, a pitiless bully who demanded her way in every situation. She craved all the attention, all the praise and all the expenditure that their wealthy parents were willing to give. Thus the other siblings were left in the shadows while Lucinda hogged the spotlight. If they ever tried to eject her or threatened her dominance over the family, she always made sure she punished them severely for it in a way that ensured their obedience to her continuing tyranny.
After being framed for misdeeds, or even just physically battered, both Tiffany and her younger sister Beatrice had found it easier just to keep quiet and out of the way rather than risk gaining Lucinda’s attention.
Her most favored and hated tactic when they were old enough was to put them into one of the old bondage rigs in the attic and leave them there for a prolonged period. The older rigs had been put into storage after being replaced by the newer models that decorated the rest of the house. Bound bundles of femininity were sent straight from their tuition at SAC to become the new resident in the ‘state of the art’ apparatus.
The laboratories of Lucinda’s husband often engineered the machines that held them and as a result they were far from gentle to any woman fed into their mechanized care.
The family wealth that Lucinda now bolstered with her captivity allowed their father to purchase only the best. That meant constant purchases from the fiendish laboratories of Gord. Like any other fashion or trend, the rich and elite had to keep up with the times on an almost weekly basis and this philosophy extended to bondage rigs.
Everyone on the estate was used to having the girls stay out of the way and keep to themselves, so their absence was never noticed until they limped back into view a few days later, shaken and shocked. Tiffany often wondered whether the servants realized why and what had spawned the wicked glint in Lucinda's eyes as the girls cowered from her presence, but she suspected that Lucinda had used even crueler means to ensure their compliance to her will. Trained women allotted to servitude could be dealt with in such ways as to make the suffering of Tiffany and Beatrice seem mild in comparison.
Lucinda had been playing with a volcanic fire when she tried to exploit the powerful Devlin Gord and her haughty ferocity had finally proved to be her downfall. The fiendish architect of female restraint had first employed her as a pony and, when she proved too unruly even for this caste, she was sold to this farm to begin her life as a foal-producing mare.
Since that day she had been perpetually set on the frame, her helmet filled to capacity with urethane foam, the gagging device allowing tubes to force sustenance down her throat and control her absolutely.
She was producing three batches of foals a year now and these perfect female specimens were ideal for raising as obedient pony girls. The deliberately genetically enchanted physique and adulterated mentality of the foals was unequaled for such purposes.
Her father owned six of them himself and was patiently waiting for the day when they would come of age and be released into his care.
Already he had been drafting new ideas for them, planning for the time when the product of his fallen daughter would be his. A new wing to his already sizable pony-girl stables was currently being created to house and educate the prize fillies.
Tiffany glanced at her father and then back to the spectacle. She kept her eyes unfocused to try and ease her accelerating libido, but even as a blurred image Lucinda was still a striking and titillating sight.
Her father looked older than his actual years, the stress Lucinda had heaped upon him since birth having taken its toll. It was Lucinda’s excesses that had continuously chiseled the lines so deeply etched into his visage.
To see her like this must have been a wonderful treat for him. To have her earn back some of the vast sums she had squandered on trivial fancies also had to add to his personal glee. Even without such monetary compensation, letting her suffer such acute degradation was a justified sentence that all of them eagerly witnessed whenever the opportunity presented itself. Even her regal mother was having trouble hiding a degree of relish in seeing the bitchy society queen get her just reward.
All eyes turned to the stable door when it rolled quietly aside to present the latest of Lucinda's lovers. The cool evening air wafted in to banish the warmth of the cozy chamber and Tiffany shivered a little before settling deeper into the soft density of her coat. Truthfully, the quiver had been more from seeing the colt than from the actual effects of sudden temperature change.
Two men escorted the burly stud in. One walked at his side and the other held his reins.
The pony-boy was tall. His form was powerfully athletic as it struggled within a plexus of decorative leather straps that forged an eternal uniform. The studs that were set across it granted an added fearsome quality.
Rather than the bloated muscles of a bodybuilder, he bore the lean, dense physique of a runner, a trait signifying that his owner insisted on plenty of intense exercise. The faded weals criss-crossing his rear served to illustrate that such training was undertaken at the end of dressage whips.
His hair had been changed to a vibrant mauve and combed into a slender mane that crossed his skull and then flowed down his back. A large ring was set in his nose with others in his nipples, the purple metal piercings matching his hair color.
The stud walked in on sturdy hoof boots and peered around at the interior. When he accustomed to the gloom, his eyes instantly locked to the proffered hindquarters of Lucinda and then widened with ravenous craving.
He chewed on his bit, body tensed with anticipation. Tiffany gave a sigh of desire when she saw his leather crotch plate strain under the flexing efforts of a swelling member. She closed her arms tighter to herself, anxious to see the show, mentally trying to imagine the magnificent beast taking her, stealing her virginity with bestial savagery while she remained massively bound.
Complete silence fell as everyone watched the carnal event unfold. Each of them was devoted to the private thoughts that centered about Lucinda's fate.
In ordinary life she had been the nexus that carried them all around her as though they were trapped in a whirlpool. Now that they were finally free of this vortex they could gloat and mock the one that had brought them such pains.
For the others of her family their thoughts would be more occupied with a modicum of sated revenge. Tiffany pondered what they would be thinking if they knew what was really on her mind.
The stud was brought over and his tumescent manhood was drawn free of the internally studded leather pouch that held it. Tiffany was already breathing in heady gasps, her eyes now dilated and glittering at the sight of him unleashed.
With his arms fastened high behind his back, the stud prodded at Lucinda's lubricated sex, testing the ground. He touched the slick opening and, with an enthusiastic drive, he thrust into the captive. As the stud slammed himself to the root of his manhood in one fluid shove, he arched onto the toes of his hoof boots. He began to whinny with joy and shook his mane from side to side so that it lashed at his torso.
A barely visible spasm coursed through Lucinda when the stud pounded into her. His brawn pummeled the sizable shaft deep into her pudenda and his arms and jaw tensed while his whole body seemed to quiver with rapture.


Reviews

This book is in a way a an expansion of a GORD book. If you had read the book you would recognise the characters. If you enjoy GORD books you will like this one. 4 out of 5 (SM)

Author Information

Aliens, strange worlds, fetish based writing.

 

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