Wench's Fitting

Wench's Fitting

Love and I woke up early in the hotel room. We had gotten into Baltimore late the night before. I was nervous, knowing full well why we came here.

Love had me get dressed in my vanilla enough leather outfit – leather pants and leather jacket go well with Love's motorcycle. We got on, with him in front of course, and he handed me my helmet. I saw that he covered the inside of the face shield with pictures – the center one had me naked except for a blindfold, and tied to the bed. Others were of models in various bondage positions. With those pictures, I was effectively blindfolded, but passerby would be none the wiser. Love took scotch tape, and taped my mouth shut, saying “If this tape is broken, either it was an emergency, or you will be punished. Do I make myself clear?”

I nodded yes. I was glad that he managed to merge safe bondage with this trip. I wrapped my arms around him as the engine roared to life, and was rewarded by having my fingers taped together. I'm sure I could easily break it if we crashed or anything – I would be bound more by will than by bonds, with the tape being used as evidence.

We rode off, with him warning me ahead of time which way to lean for the turns. I had no idea where we were – I'd never been to Baltimore before, even if I could see! It was wonderfully ironic to be bound in plain sight, nobody even noticing. After what could have been 10 minutes, could have been an hour, we arrived.

We walked into a building, and after greeting “Andy”, Love led me through a door. He said “Take off all of your clothes, and wear what is on the bench. Come out when you are done.” He then shut the door.

I took off the helmet, and saw I was in a small barren room. On a small bench, there was only a padded leather blindfold. Nervous as I was, I stripped, and blindfolded myself. I was glad that it fit well at the bottom of my nose – I don't like being able to peek. I cinched it up until I could see absolutely nothing, then I stepped out.

Someone, I assume it was “Andy”, called out away from me “I just need to check some personal fitting issues. Be back in a minute.” To me, he said “Come with me.” He led me a distance, perhaps into another room, and then said in a serious, yet caring voice “I tell this to everyone, so don't be alarmed. Your master can't hear you, so answer honestly. Do you want to be fitted for a chastity belt? It might not be a toy, and he may lock you in for long periods of time, maybe permanently. If you say no, I will come up with an excuse to cover for you. Do you want to continue and be fitted?

I nodded. “Yes, master.”

He chuckled. “Good. I love locking up sluts!” He led me back to Love.

Someone buckled some fur-lined manacles over my wrists, and in short order, my arms were hauled toward the ceiling. Another set of fur-lined manacles were buckled around my ankles.

Love commanded “Wench, spread your legs as wide as you can. If there's no stretch, I'll stretch them for you.”

I muttered “Yes, my love”, and quickly complied. I didn't need to be told that he would spread my legs far more than what is comfortable. For that, I was rewarded by having my legs were locked apart by a spreader bar.

Andy proceeded to take all sorts of measurements – waist, front of waist to back waist through the crotch (Andy enjoyed that one), hips, good height for waist band, front of waist to back waist through the crotch (again!), distance between thighs, a few others I couldn't identify, and front of waist to back waist through the crotch (one more time for good measure, sliding the cloth tape back and forth a few times).

Andy asked what “So, slut, what size boobs do you got?”

I thought was a random crude question meant to humiliate me. “Size 40 C or D, depending on the bra manufacturer, Master.”

Andy then started taking measurements like boobs to shoulders. He laughed. “That's right – Your master cares enough not only to lock up your hole, but your boobs too!”

I was a bit confused, but sure wasn't about to ask any questions. Love gets a lot more enjoyment from touching my boobs than I do. Why would he lock them away, but have the key to access them? What was the point?

A small padded bar was put in front of my waist, and my arms were lowered from the ceiling, only to be pulled forward, forcing me to bend over the bar. My arms were tied off, and a padded contraption was put under me to support the weight of my head; my best guess is that it was something that masseuses use. Apparently I was to be here a while.

Andy's hands roamed freely around my dangling boobs, caressing, feeling, twirling, and tweaking. “She really does have a nice pair, doesn't she?”

“Yes, I'm going to enjoy seeing them locked up in stainless steel” Love answered. The caressing continued for a while. There was nothing that I could do about it; my hands were tied over my head, my legs were spread far and wide. I was truly exposed to whatever Andy or Love wanted. Suddenly my boobs being immersed something cold and kind of liquid!

“Yikes!” I exclaimed, more from the surprise than the cold itself.

Andy said “Don't worry. This foam will set in a few minutes. The cold will keep your boobs nice and perky, so that I can get exact measurements off of the mold.”

Oh dear. I guess there was something that I needed to explain to them very tactfully. “Um...Love?”

“Yes Wench?”

“Um...not to sound ungrateful for the gift you are giving me, but there's something that I think I need to explain about my breasts and gravity. When I stand up, my breasts are shaped differently than this – they're kind of wider, don't stick out as far...droopier...”

Andy laughed again. “I think she's just getting it now!” While I like a man who enjoys his work, I think he enjoys his a bit TOO much.

It was then that I realized that I didn't need to explain boobs and gravity to them, it was they who were explaining having enormous stainless steel boobs and humiliation to ME!

Still chuckling, Andy prepared for the next “segment”. He locked a thumb cuff around my big toes. I saw that each had a thin chain trailing off of it. He started to pull the two together. I pivoted my feet inward as much as possible, but my ankles were still spread to the far corners of the earth! When Andy had my feet turned in as much as possible, he linked the two chains together to prevent separation.

Bent over like I was, with my legs spread, I felt like I was forced to give the world the largest mooning that I possibly could; my butt was so exposed. Not to be disappointed, I felt something short and thin probe around my butt, than enter for an inch or two. Behind the blindfold, my eyes went wide as the nozzle he put in shot more foam up my ass! He went on and on giving me a foam enema, all the while sounding like a whipped cream container. It seemed like the foam was expanding even after it got in!

Master said “Better keep still Wench. If the mold is distorted, you wouldn't want us guessing a bit on the high side...” Needless to say, I kept very still as the pressure built up. Andy finally stopped , yet the pressure built up more. I felt like if I didn't go to the bathroom awfully quick, I was going to burst! I tried not to do the pee-pee dance, and it stopped growing. I could feel it slowly hardening inside of me. I stood motionless in my enforced darkness.

As they waited for the foam to set, Andy asked Love “So, at first, you were going for the base model, now you're going for quite a nice selection of extras. What made you change your mind?”

“Well, money was a concern.”

“Was?”

“Well, I found a guy with a web site willing to buy all the pictures that I've been taking.”

My mind exploded. Pictures? He's been taking pictures of me like this? They're going on the net to anyone who pays this web guy a few bucks? Just how much have I been showing? And to who?

I must have shown a reaction, as Andy laughed, asking Love “She didn't know, did she?” He then bowed down to address me closely “So, slut, how does it feel to have your wonton exhibitionism subsidizing your bondage? Knowing that strangers buying pictures of your bound flesh is what allows him to torment you all the more?

I could offer only a whimper in reply.

It was Love's turn to torment me. “So Wench, how's your butt feeling? Nice and pleasant?”

“The foam is huge my Love! Please don't make anything that big!”

“Well, the normal wear one will be considerably smaller. It's the punishment plug that you need to fear.”

I sure didn't like the sound of that. *gulp* “Punishment plug?”

“Yeah. Its for when you misbehave – after the outer coating, curing, and so forth, it should be a bit bigger than the original mold.

I didn't think that I could take it! “Please don't my Love!”

For that, I felt an empty plastic bag shoved in my mouth, followed by the foam nozzle. Andy told me “Bite down on the nozzle.” I knew I lost, and quickly complied. After 3 seconds of foaming, my mouth was also filled.

I waited in my darkness as they talked about me like I was a piece of meat. I could offer no resistance. I'm sure they waited longer than was really necessary for the foam to set – they were enjoying my predicament.

I have no idea how long I stood there as my legs ached from the position and the foam filling my butt. I felt one of them slowly lowering the foam around my boobs as the other one pulled and tugged them out of the mold until they were free.

At their command, I opened my mouth to let them remove the gag. Fingers poked and prodded around my butt. I screamed like a wounded banshee as the widest part of the plug came slurping out of my butt. That hurt like hell! And they are going to make a plug larger than that? They're not kidding when they called it “punishment”!

As I was led back into the changing closet, still no wiser as to where I was, Andy called out “The stuff should be ready by noon tomorrow. See you then?”

Love replied “Yep. We wouldn't miss it for the world.”

I stumbled off, knowing I had no choice.

End of Part 1

Disclaimer – this is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead are coincidence. No animals were hurt in the writing of this story. If you try the actions described herein, you're weirder than I am.