Katrina's Taming

KATRINA'S TAMING (by Eve Adorer)

Chapter 4 – Katrina In The Girl-Cage

With sweet girl-sweat trickling in rivulets down my nude body, I at long, oh so long last, wiggle-strutted onto the patio in front of Jackie's superb country house. And I stood, totally exhausted, my legs shaking with the strain of my cruel mile-long hour-long stilt-bootie en pointe wiggle dimple-bummed strut-walk.

Even as the masked guests gathered round to ogle me, my milker, piranha nipple clamps, and binding ropes were being removed.

As the needle teeth of the piranha clamps were released from biting as they had right through my bare nipples, and the six-inch tongues that penetrated my milk-holes were slowly pulled out, I openly cried tears from the pain and the relief from pain that hit my poor tortured breasts at one and the same time.

I felt such love for my torturers at that moment that I would do anything they wanted from me. I was sure that I momentarily experienced girl-girl and thought I must now be girl-tamed into girl-girl and thus tame-girl

I, of course, still wore my tiptoe-ended en pointe pirouette punishment stilt-booties. And within them I still stood with all my 115 superb pounds entirely on the very top tips of my big toes. I was still a prisoner of my stilt-booties and my fear of a bone-breaking fall, as my extremely tired legs shook almost uncontrollably, despite my being able now to rest standing using the front-heels.

I was physically exhausted.

Though proud of my superb fitness I could not deny that my tormentors had ground me down entirely, physically and, indeed, mentally.

I was made sex on legs by their bondage of my body, and I was now sex on legs in my mind also. I wanted nothing other than to be girl. I wanted nothing other than to be girl-sexual. I wanted nothing other than to be girl-sexy. I wanted nothing other than to be pleasing to the eyes of my beholders male and more especially female.

My mind was filled with girl to the exclusion of every other thought.

I knew I was stunningly beautiful and sexy and desired by all the women that looked at me. I knew too that they were jealous of me. They would not want to suffer one scintilla of my torture but they were with cold green-eyed envy of my displaying my beauty and being the centre of everybody's attention.

But even the most unalterably heterosexual woman at Jackie's home that day would not hesitate for a micro-second to have me in her bed alone with her. There was no woman there who did not long to have my body. There was no woman there who did not long to have my unwounded body to caress and the chance to kiss me to girl-oblivion and take me to girl-ecstasy.

And I, hitherto only admitting to heterosexuality, had become unalterably one-hundred-percent gay-girl. I would never again desire sex with a man. I knew, absolutely knew, that my incredible beauty should only ever have been surrendered to another girl. And I wanted to be girl-tamed and become tame-girl.

Of course, that I could think that I still wanted to be tame-girl was admission in my mind that I was still not in fact girl-tamed. I knew in my mind I must suffer more, and suffer more I undoubtedly would.

I was handed an opened bottle of water and reached out a long fingered pretty hand for it.

Before I could grasp the bottle, Jackie stepped up before me and slapped my lovely angel face hard.

“Where are your manners bitch?” I gasped in my shock at the harsh blow. “Please may I have water?” I begged. Jackie nodded assent. “Thank you” I responded meekly and shyly as I took the bottle for which I was absolutely desperate.

I thirstily gulped the first and then a second pint bottle and was handed a third.

The masked assembly of paying guests walked around me to take in the sexiness of my naked body.

“You've done superbly well getting this one Jackie”, sneered one leering masked man. “She's far and away the best girl-meat we've had. Prime cut girl-meat, and some!”

I was reviving but too exhausted to try and see if I could recognise anybody despite their disguises.

I did not seem to know any of them; but someone recognised me.

“That's Katrina!” she exclaimed in half laugh at her astonishment. “Jackie, you've excelled yourself my dear. You've got Katrina. You're actually taming the delectable Katrina! Wow!!”

Initially, this silly upper-crust voice rang no register in my mind of who she was or how she could possibly know me. But that was just my tiredness.

I now blushed deep scarlet at the onrush of realisation that I was totally nude and in submissive stilt-bootie bondage in front of the most junior of junior office girls working for my mother's company.

My beautiful body was being tortured for the pleasure of a girl whose total ineptness had filled my mother's conversation about her, moments after this girl and I had first met and this girl had ogled me at the company's Christmas party.

This girl had followed me all that evening clearly stunned by and overwhelmed by desire for me. And now she had all she had wished to see that night, and more. She had her revenge for my ignoring her love and lust.

“You will drink until you are ordered to stop” Jackie whispered as I was trying to hand back my half consumed third pint water bottle.

I obediently retained the bottle gulped its remaining contents down at intervals, and gently reached out my pretty hand for a fourth.

“You will drink that and at least three more beyond, and you will retain it”, Jackie ordered.

Jackie now clapped her hands to get the attention of what must have been fifty guests. And she begged to be excused, saying that dinner would be in half an hour to forty-five minutes and meanwhile she had work to do to prepare the table decoration, as a good hostess must.

I had managed to force myself to drink a fourth pint of water. Jackie ordered me to drink more quickly as she did not want to have her guests kept waiting.

I knew I must obey though I could see no reason for drinking so much.

There were expressions of disappointment now as I was led away by my tormentors into Jackie's home and a room I knew, as her long time friend and frequent past visitor, to be next to her huge dining room.

I found myself blinking to adjust my lovely dark brown eyes from the glare of the outside sun to the cool comparative darkness within.

They sat me on a chair and, at Jackie's instruction, my en pointe stilt-booties were being removed.

This might be thought blessed relief, but my newly bared pretty feet were agonisingly painful, my big toes being severely savagely bruised as they were from bearing the whole weight of my body on very top tiptoe for endless hours. My every other toe too was blue purple and black with crushing.

I had not hitherto felt the pain as opposed to the precariousness of my ballet-bootie imprisonment. My feet had eventually gone numb, even almost as if dead, within my stilt-booties. But now blood was pumping back into my toe ends and with it feeling, and that feeling was purgatory, and I winced and moaned at the extreme pain of it.

I was forcing myself to sip from my seventh pint water bottle as Jackie told me, completely unemotionally that as final taming, I was to spend twenty-four hours in a girl-cage.

The relief flooded through me. I could rest. My torture was over. Anything would be bearable after the cruelty of my stilt-booties and what they had done to my breasts. Anything. What was twenty-four hours in a cell compared with the hell I had just gone through?

Jackie went on to say, for my benefit and the microphones recording the soundtrack of my torture, that my grasping of the pint water bottle without asking first had clearly shown that I was still a very, very, long way from being girl-tamed.

Beyond any doubt, I needed to be forced to understand humility. I would be girl-tamed. Despite my will, I would be made girl-girl and become tame-girl.

Resistance would be broken. I had clearly not suffered enough to learn the error of my wilful ways. Accordingly, I must undergo the girl-cage for twenty-four hours in which I would suffer, as untamed-girl should.

She now ordered my two girl tormentors to fit my purse with a girl-lip-gaper.

I made no effort to resist as the girl that had wanted to show me mercy, gently placed an “X” shaped device, with “Y” shaped ends at each end of the X arms, between the outer lips of my sex. Its effect was to prop my otherwise tight outer girl-lips slightly agape for reasons that I could not even begin to guess at that stage.

I had already noticed a box, what I concluded must be a box, on a hand operated pallet truck in the middle of the floor of the outer room I was in.

I studied it now as I sipped to the end of my seventh pint of water. And a slow cold chill suddenly ran its icy fingers down my spine. It was there for a purpose. What could that purpose be?

Half dazed in my overwhelming tiredness I stared at it.

I tried to analyse it. The box was two feet by two feet square at its base standing on the pallet truck, and two-and-a-half feet tall.

Its strongly hinged lid, which had a number of small holes drilled in it, was open.

The box, lid included, was made of strong transparent rigid “plastic-glass” with all its edges reinforced by bright steel strip.

It looked, if anything, like a hinge-lidded aquarium. From all four of its top corners there hung down individual lengths of strong metal chain.

I jumped with shock as Jackie's voice behind me ordered: “Cage her.”

My arms were grasped and for the first time in my taming I fought against my captors. I had fully realised what they were going to do to me and it was horrible, absolutely horrible.

I had no chance against them. They were rested and strong; I was tortured and weakened.

They frog marched me on my poor cruelly sore and brutally bruised feet toward that dreadful tiny little box. This was the girl-cage. I just knew this was the girl-cage. Two-foot square base by two-and-a-half-feet high, a tiny near cube of transparent plastic. How could I possible fit into that?

“Please don't do this to me”, I pleaded, “Please, I beg you, anything, anything, but please don't, don't do this!” As ever, Jackie was completely unmerciful.

I was now in front of the cage and looking down into it. “Feet in front of the bar at the bottom, and then fold your legs as you sit. Keep your arms out. Is that clear?” she directed.

Her question did not invite an answer. It was an order. I obeyed. I lifted one lovely leg and then the other so that I stood on the floor of the box, where I saw, even in my horror, that there was a curious drain hole.

I still pleaded with my silent dark brown eyes for mercy.

As I stood in the cage, its top edges were just above the level of the bases of my bum cheeks. I looked down and found the bar referred to by Jackie. It ran from side to side at the bottom of the cage an inch back from one of its four windowed sides.

They held the cage steady as I obediently stood on my toes behind the bar. Again I was lifted, sexy legs down-pointed, en pointe. It was agony for my tortured feet and I cried out in pain.

My only relief was to sit. I lowered my gorgeous oh so smackable bum into the cage hanging onto the sides with my pretty hands as I folded my body slowly in, so that my breasts were pressed into my wonderful thighs as I sat compressed in the cage.

I sat hard-folded double on tiptoe my wonderful legs tight squeezed jack-knifed pressing my enormous folded thighs up hard against my breasts. Between my thighs my gaped girl-lips smiled vertically.

As had been my order, my arms were still out of the cage. Indeed, my arms and head were all that were still free from the crushingly tight imprisonment I had been forced into to finally girl-tame me.

Each of Jackie's deputies took one of my arms, folded forearm to its upper, and tucked the folded arm in, against my side, in the cage.

The seemingly impossible was achieved; my gloriously beautiful, sexual, sexy body had been forced into the tiny girl-cage. I could hardly breath so tightly was I bent double and compressed.

Once more I looked at my tormentors in silent pleading. Jackie was putting a transparent plastic tube through the cage lid and offered it to my pretty mouth. “You'd better keep that where you can get it if you don't want to die of thirst” she sneered.

I held the tube in my teeth as my head was forced down to my knees by the ventilated lid of the cage being closed and securely padlocked.

My brain whirred. I tried to move. I could not. I could flex my fingertips and my toes but nothing else. I was held totally rigid. I could just breathe in short panting gasps that caused by breasts, and especially my nipples to rub on my thighs against which they were pressed crushingly hard. Oh god, how was I to survive twenty-four hours of this!? “Have mercy, please have mercy!” I moaned.

I was aware now that the pallet truck was taking the girl-cage, with me jack-knifed gorgeous firm folded leggy body in it, into the dining room.

In the middle of that room a chain was lowered from a beam, the four chains at the corners of my cage fixed to it, and I was hauled slowly aloft to hang at onlooker's head height on display, for the perverted pleasure of the diners when they were brought in.

My cage swung and twisted till it settled. Tears ran down my pretty face as I sobbed in my dreadful fear that I could not possibly survive twenty-four hours like this.

Jackie put the finishing touches to my cage. I had already noticed the drain hole at the bottom. Jackie now screwed a bottle-shaped transparent plastic sump into this, and fitted the other end of the clear plastic tube that went into the top of the cage and to my mouth lips, to the bottom of that sump.

Then though a hatch in one side of the girl-cage, a hatch I had not noticed and that was now out of my sight in my cruel, cruel jack-knifed imprisonment, a small transparent lidded box was introduced. A box that clicked neatly into the slot made for it. A box the lid of which, now inside my cage, could be opened by pushing a wire through a tiny hole in its base to push it out. A box that I would have been as horrified as my tormentors were gleeful to know, contained what must have been in excess of two-hundred active buzzing hungry and crawling meat flies.

I was aware of this inexplicable buzzing noise as I tried to move in my girl-cage, only to set it swinging and twisting uncontrollably as I fought my savage imprisonment, crying out in my torment for mercy.

Jackie ordered that her guests be allowed in.

The guests came in and shouted with joy at what they saw. “Jackie, oh Jackie darling, you have excelled yourself this time my dear. I knew you had imagination, but this! The poor bitch!!” shouted the girl who knew me by name. “What she must be suffering!” “Oh Jackie! And she is your friend. Did you say twenty-four hours? Twenty-four hours like that! Oh my god, it's making me wet just looking at her.”

Now a man spoke out with overwhelming enthusiasm for what he saw: “You've always done us proud Jackie, but this, this, this is superb; first rate, capital, the most erotic sight I have ever seen in all my days! What wonderful thighs she has and how you have managed to show them at their thunderously strong best! You should have been an artist Jackie. No. You ARE an artist!”

“I can't disagree with that”, said another male voice, “How the poor little cow must be suffering. Twenty-four hours you say. My goodness what a joy. ‘A girl in hell'”, that's what you should call the film. It's bloody marvellous what you come up with. I just want to be jerked-off slowly taking a good close look at this gorgeous babe. I want to enjoy this as it should be enjoyed. Those thighs, those glorious thighs, they are monumental”.

The guests sat around with me in their full view to dine as I continued to suffer in hell.

Sweet musky girl-sweat trickled down my body and water vapour from my body heat and my breathing ran down the clear plastic walls, as I squatted rigidly immovably in my cage. Girl-sweat dripped from my lovely face onto my thighs and ran down to the bottom of the girl-cage into the sump.

The enforced shallowness of my breathing was making my oxygen starved mind spin. I was jack-knifed totally and utterly rigidly unable to move a millimetre and yet momentarily in my mind I was walking and then running naked through a field of tall grass fresh wetted by summer rain, free as a wild pony.

The noisy chatter of the diners stopped as my cage swung and twisted and I cried out for the first time with the extreme agony of cramp in my muscles. Both of my superb legs and my pretty right arm were seized solid by the terrible pain. And there was nothing but nothing I could do to relieve it. How could I when I could not move? I just could not move!

Cramps came over me in successive waves and in successive waves I screamed with the pain. No more brutal torture could have been devised than that I was suffering. I was held in inhuman hell for the sexual gratification of complete strangers who would jerk-off over the film of my cruel slow suffering.

I blinked the sweet girl-sweat from my eyelids and squealed with the pain again as yet another wave of cramp took my calves into spasms of agony. I begged and begged to be released from my purgatory.

Then I let go my bladder and a torrent of white-yellow girl-piss hissed from by purse so that I sat in a horrible pool of girl-piss and girl-sweat, until it had trickled into the waiting sump.

I had no time to be disgusted at the way I had had to behave like an animal, more terrible cramp took both of my stupendous thighs and I bellowed in my excruciating pain.

“We shouldn't dine alone they say”. Jackie sneered mockingly. “Shall we release our fellow guests: the flies?”

At a nod from Jackie, the crueller of my two young girl torturers took hold of my swinging and twisting cage and pushed open the lid of the box within it through the hole in the box's base.

All bar one stupid fly that could not smell the feast my lovely bare girl-sweat bathed salty body would present, buzzed eagerly up and outwards. Then even that last lazy fly caught the smell of my delicious musk and joined the fray.

I screamed with horror as the two hundred-plus hungry flies began to crawl all over me.

I must needs close my eyes as they crawled on my face and tried to enter my pretty mouth before flying off to join companions already with their tickling taunting and mocking feet crawling on my breasts and up and down my thunderously strong thighs. There, with some, the crawling stopped as they puckered their snouts to suck my lovely salty girl-flesh.

I screamed with horror at this savage inhuman debasement. I was just girl-meat. I could do nothing to fight off the attention of the hundreds of these vile filthy insects crawling on my nude body.

And already, I could feel these huge fat flies finding their zigzag way within the soft brown perspiration matted pubic hair, nearing my gaped sex.

I screamed and my girl-cage nearly spun as I fought off the horrible inevitability for which my sex had been gaped.

As ever, I was aroused by my torture and my girl-juice was abundant. Like honey to bees, my girl-juice with its musk was attracting the flies to congregate at the lips of my purse.

Yet initially it was strangely anticlimactic when they began to crawl into me.

They loved my purse. They loved my girl-juice. At least one hundred flies were in or around my girl-lips. Those inside were tasting my soft pink inner girl-lips and some were seeking to enter deeper into my super sensitive girl-organ and yet others had found my clitoris on which they were feasting.

And I suffered their crawling tickling itch-making attentions patiently. I suffered the ultimate humiliation of my torture tamely. The only evidence I showed was the perfectly acceptable one where my girl-tamers were concerned. My purse oozed a continuous steady trickle of fresh girl-juice showing my stupendous arousal, as I moaned and purred and gasped with pleasure at enduring my unfulfilable sexual need to girl-come.

After a short time went by, every fly was now either crawling inside or along or waiting to enter my gaped outer girl-lips. They loved my girl musk as it oozed copiously, encouraged by their attentions to the girl-sensitive girl-pink girl-softness within me.

My inner girl-lips were smothered with eager flies tickling me subtly unbearably with their feet and sucking snouts. Others were also fighting to taste my engorged clitoris standing proud of its hiding hood. I was being driven insane by their minute attention to my soft girl-sensitive inside girl-pink.

My musk was pouring from me as the flies were performing their unwitting foreplay. Moans and girly-innocent gasps were being uncontrollably uttered from me: not by me, but from me: I had no control now over what I was saying and the sounds I was making. I was in the highest state of sexual arousal I had ever experienced as yet in my young life, as the flies continued to tickle and tease and torment my girl-pink girl-inner girl-softness.

The flies continued to feast on my cunt-juice and some to fly out around and back into my gaped cunt for more of my girl-honey. And my girl-honey flowed and trickled never-endingly uncontrollably onto the cheeks of my bum and the bottom of the girl-cage and into the girl-cage's sump.

I was so sexually aroused by this humiliating insect foreplay that I had become just sex. My nipples were become as hard as iron, my clitoris stiff as steel and my wholly wanton sexual moans and girly-cries, sighs, screeches, gasps, groans, and squeaks those of a wild animal rather than a human girl.

I was sex and I wanted I so wanted I so needed to girl-come. I was aroused beyond arousal. I had lost my mind to pleasure as the flies tortured me with their constant innocent attentions to my most intimate and sensitive girl-parts.

Then I became aware of a chant and a thumping on the dining table where the guests were beside themselves in their enjoyment of my torture jack-knifed in my cube prison, crawling inside my most intimate part with flies.

I had been momentarily insane with pleasure from the endless foreplay of the never-ending nerve-end tormenting flies crawling around and sucking with their snouts on the flesh inside my gaped cunt. I now came round from being wholly distracted sex to the loud bawdy shouting of my tormenters as they gawped at my perfect body being tortured in the girl-cage: being tortured by the girl-cage.

“Drink; drink; drink”, they bellowed in a slowly rising dirge. And each shout of “drink; drink; drink” was accompanied by: thump; thump; thump on the dining table. More cramp bit my thighs and I squealed and hollered my pain once more. How could I stand this for twenty-four hours? How? Just how?!

I had forgotten my other-worldly insanely high pitch of arousal of but moments ago now.

The guests had seen that the sump was filled to its two-pint brim with my girl-piss and girl-sweat, and girl-honey.

“Drink; drink; drink; drink; drink”, they chorused. Could this be my saviour? Would the agonising cramps cease if I was less dehydrated? It seemed to make sense. I felt for the drinking tube with my lovely mouth and began to draw on it. I only got air. I realised I needed to suck, then stop its end with my tongue, and then suck again, until my refreshment came through.

That I was drawing on the tube was evident to the audience, which went totally silent with its eyes fixed solely on the foul white-yellow liquid I was drawing up nine-inches and stop, nine inches then stop as I sucked with my pretty pouting innocent mouth-lips on the tube.

I was all for giving up on my sucking, when I saw between my thighs, despite the steamed up walls of my all but two-foot sided cube girl-prison, that liquid was coming. I had sucked it almost up over the top of the girl-cage, and it was about to flow into my mouth, as the thumping and the chant started up again louder still: “drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink”.

Then they cheered and whooped and bellowed and congratulated each other as I drank.

I sucked the foul white-yellow liquid into my mouth and swallowed it.

It was horrible. It stank. It was salty. It was acidic. It burnt my mouth. I was drinking my girl-piss. I, of course, knew I was drinking my girl-piss. I was forced to drink my girl-piss. The more I drank the thirstier it made me and the more I drank. I was desperate. I sucked and sucked on the tube till I had swallowed the whole two pints of girl-piss, girl-sweat, and cunt-juice.

This would be part of my torture. I would be continuously thirsty and would draw on my only source of liquid, liquid that could only make me thirstier. Then eventually I would girl-piss and my girl-piss would be thicker and saltier and fouler smelling and more acidic and less thirst quenching than before. But I would suck it up from the sump of the girl-cage because that was all I had to drink. Then I would girl-piss once more and my girl-piss would be still thicker and still saltier and fouler smelling and more acidic and still less thirst quenching than before. And so on cruelly round and cruelly round.

I cried. Tears welled and spilled from my gorgeous dark brown eyes. For nearly an hour now in my jack-knifed imprisoned hell I had suffered the cramps of the damned and been inhumanly humiliated mocked and abused. I felt abandoned. I had no idea how long I had suffered, I only knew that I could not bear this torture any longer. I sobbed and cried and begged and begged to be released.

Then came another shock to me. My steady shallow breathing was constantly rubbing my rose-pink nipples on my girl-sweat lubricated thighs. I had already found it sexually arousing, but had fought it off. But there was now a lull in my cruel cramps and the feeling in my nipples as they constantly rhythmically rubbed on the huge thighs of my folded legs was turning me on incredibly sexually once again.

My breathing got quicker. My nipples were rubbed more intensely. They began to peak and dance once more. The effect of the rubbing grew more intense, more stimulating. I was being helplessly masturbated by my stupendous thighs.

The fat flies continued to torture me by crawling uncontrollably in and out and around my purse. I gasped as this stimulation of my nipples and from the flies inside me had its inevitable effect in my girl-centre. My girl-juice oozed super abundantly again and trickled out of my purse onto the cheeks of my bum once more. My fly smothered clitoris began to throb and dance like never before.

I breathed more quickly still. My nipples were rubbed more rapidly on my thighs. My clitoris pulsed. I fought successfully against the inevitable as I thought. But no. My stimulation was ever present. I was jack-knifed into this tiny box so tightly that there was no escape from it or from my sexual self-stimulation. I could not move a muscle.

My breathing continued my nipple rubbing. I was abandoned to it now. My clitoris was steel hard erect and harder, and being aroused the more by what seemed a hundred eager sucking and crawling insatiable flies. My sex-honey was trickling like volcanic lava from my girl-slit onto the cheeks of my bum and the floor of the girl-cage. I breathed faster still.

The total rigidity of my imprisoned jack-knifed body in its miniscule cube cell was now arousing my sexuality once again. I was enjoying, sexually, enjoying the brutality of my tiny cell and its use to exhibit me and the humiliation of the mocking audience and the fact that I was being treated as if I were no more than girl-meat and that I was being filmed so my body and my torture could be sold to anyone who cared to buy and my total immobility and the savageness of the cramps and my total imprisoned immobility and the fact that I could not move and the fact that I was jack-knifed immovably and cruelly into that tiny cell and the fact that I could not escape this torture and the fact that I could not move a millimetre and my being forced to drink my own girl-piss and the fact that I was jack-knifed shoe-horned folded double into this tiny cell where I could not move and inside my cunt was crawling with tickling and sucking flies and the fact that though I was not in any way bound I could not move I just could not move, shoe-horned in this miniscule girl-cage and the fact they had mocked me as I drank my girl-piss and the shoe-horned jack-knifed immovability of my beautiful body my torture my horrible torture, the flies and my horrible torture, the horrible torture of my wonderfully beautiful body and the constant rubbing of my nipples on my tremendous thighs…………. and I girl-orgasmed!!!

I squealed and screamed and squeaked as I girl-orgasmed. Time over time I girl-orgasmed, each girl-orgasm more powerful than the one before. I howled and bellowed and screamed and moaned in total sexual abandon, as I girl-orgasmed from the girl-submissive girl-pleasure of my girl-torture in my wildly swinging and twisting savagely cruelly imprisoning girl-cage.

“Well, well, well, Katrina my perfect darling, I do believe you've come, you gorgeous bitch!” Jackie mocked, sneeringly.

…………And the second hour of my twenty-four hours in the girl-cage began………..