Experiment 239 Ch. 07

"Tony, may I please suck your cock?"

Anthony put his newspaper down, glancing up in bemusement. Sure enough, before him stood Sophie, unsteady and shaking in her unforgiving ballet boots. A faint sheen of perspiration beaded on her forehead, a most pleasing display of the toll the exertion was taking on her. Her green eyes were wide and pleading, and she had even put on the reddest, sluttiest coat of lipstick she owned.

Little Tony immediately sprung to attention, screaming, "Yes!!" for all it was worth... but Anthony had other plans. He leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin as he looked her over from head to toe. "I don't know, Sophie. Didn't you just do that an hour ago?"

It was a stroke of pure genius, if he could say so himself. The first day of "ballet boot week" had been somewhat underwhelming. Sophie had remained stubbornly seated as much as she could, insisting that her punishment had been to *wear* the boots, not to stand or walk in them. And so the next day Anthony, inspired by an article he had once read on mild predicament bondage, had bought her a corset and decreed that it be worn with the boots.

It was a gorgeous piece of handmade leather, red with black accents, heavily steel-boned throughout. The last point was key - Anthony had taken his time lacing her in, giving her body time to adjust each time before tightening them further. Half an hour later, they both admired the most dramatic silhouette they had ever achieved - her waist curved sharply inward, pulled in tightly by the heavy steel bones. Sophie loved it; that is, until she realized that it was most uncomfortable to sit down in such tightly-laced attire.

And thus she was faced with the predicament: Stand in the torturous heels, or sit and feel the corset grip her torso more tightly, squeezing her breasts up and out so much that she thought they might burst. Neither position was bearable for too long, and so she was forced to alternate between the two, much to her chagrin. Naturally, lying down was not allowed before bedtime.

Even then, Anthony came back from his evening jog the following day to find her kneeling on the couch, having found a happy medium between the two positions. And so the third rule was made: Kneeling was only allowed during blowjobs.

"Please, Tony! My feet are killing me," Sophie begged, shifting from foot to foot. It was Saturday afternoon, and Anthony had laced her into the corset as soon as she was out of her morning shower, a good inch tighter than the previous day. It had been a long, long day for her, he mused.

He ran his hands down the curve of her waist, soft flesh cinched by hard steel, reveling in the wonderful, intoxicating cruelty of having her suffer so for his viewing pleasure. He loved how it reinforced the power imbalance between them - and judging from the moist thighs before him, she seemed to love it just as much.

"You'll have to offer me better than that," he teased her. "It's a big ask, you know."

"Anything."

"Really?"

Her eyes met his, and he felt precum dribbling against the inside of his boxer shorts.

"Stay here," he directed her, then rose and headed for the bedroom.

He returned shortly, carrying a knapsack and a modest slip-on dress. She blinked at the dress questioningly. "Uh...?"

He motioned towards her with the dress. "Put it on, dear. We're going for a short walk."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but did as she was told. The "walk" consisted of him leading her to the shed in her garden - only a hundred metres from the kitchen door, but a good 10 minutes for a woman teetering in ballet boots.

"I had no idea you liked getting blowjobs in garden sheds, Tony."

Anthony chuckled. "What makes you think I'll be getting a blowjob in the shed?"

Her eyes widened, but he simply kissed her on the forehead, before pulling the dress up over her head. Handcuffs came out of his knapsack, which he noted she put her hands behind her back for most cooperatively. Laughing, he corrected her. "I appreciate the gesture, Sophie, but I'd like them in front of you." So in front of her they went on, before her wrists were pulled over her head and behind her neck, attached to the D-ring behind her collar.

Sophie glowered at him in apprehension. The position forced her hands behind her head, pushing her breasts up and out.

"Tony..." she murmured, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. "I'm not sure I like where this is going..."

The bastard only grinned in return, pinching her swollen nipples with one hand as he stroked her fiery curls with the other. "But I do. And that's what matters, mm?" She whimpered in protest, and he could see a slow trickle making its way down her upper thigh, where the tops of her stockings met bare flesh. Excellent.

The nipple clamps went on next, attached to little silver bells that seemed impossibly loud in the silence of the shed. A ring gag followed, forcing her glossy red lips two inches apart. He had her stand there, shifting her weight uncomfortably, as he pulled out two rather unusual contraptions - her regular dildo with a loop on the end, and a small, square piece of equipment that looked somewhat like an alarm.

"This convenient little contraption is triggered by impact. Watch," he told her, as he dropped the alarm. A continuous din rang through the shed, lights flashing as it beeped loudly.

Sophie's eyes darted around wildly - had anyone heard? She then realized that the shed was soundproof - nobody would hear anything that happened inside.

Anthony kindly reset the alarm. "But when you're outside..." he confirmed her fears blithely, as he then attached the contraption to the end of the dildo.

"HNNGHHHH!!" she protested, jade eyes widening.

"Legs spread," he instructed her sternly, ignoring the whimpers of protest. In the dildo went, slipping through her dripping folds easily. "Oh, my dear Sophie. What will we ever do with you?" he teased her.

"So, here's the deal," he carried on, sounding as casual as if he was explaining how to turn the TV on. His hands, slick with her juices, cupped her face, smearing her carefully-applied makeup all over. Her cheeks turned a rosy shade all on their own - she could smell her own scent, clear and musky, could only imagine what a sight her face must be. The humiliation was almost unbearable.

Only 'almost', though. She would not safeword. Deep down inside her, some part of her craved this, lapped it all up with astonishing greed.

Anthony stepped back, nodding in satisfaction at her mussed-up appearance. "I will be going back to the house now, Sophie. It's about an hour before the sun begins to set, probably two hours before complete darkness. You can decide when you want to be giving me the blowjob that you owe me."

He kissed the corner of her spread lips. "Remember, my little slut. No kneeling if you don't have my cock in your mouth."

Amidst her garbled wails, he opened the door and walked out of the shed, leaving the door open.

***

She was so screwed.

Drool mixed with pussy fluids dripped off her chin as she stood helplessly by the side of the doorway, contemplating her options. There was nowhere to sit at all in the shed, so even alternating between positions was not an option. Kneeling was forbidden. She didn't know how long she could hold the dildo inside her before it fell out, making an unholy din through the open door and attracting the attention of any neighbours who might be passing by. Her nipples ached, her feet ached, and her mouth was beginning to ache.

But she couldn't leave now. There were other properties close to this shed - someone would almost certainly see her. It would take her a good 10 minutes to make her way there in her boots, and even the goddamned bells on her nipple clamps would attract attention.

She was trapped.

Dusk had almost completely turned to darkness when she mustered the courage to leave the shed. Her nipples were throbbing and she had left a veritable puddle of drool and musk while waiting. She thought she might have managed a tiny orgasm from squeezing the dildo within her repeatedly, but she wasn't sure. Pleasure mixed with pain radiated through her entire body, constant and unrelenting.

Carefully, slowly, she shuffled her way down the path, clenching the dildo with all her might. Despite her best efforts, it was beginning to slip out with all the movement.

The night air was cool on her skin, and she felt conspicuously naked and on display. Sure, there was the corset, but all it did was constrict her lower torso in a most uncomfortable manner. It did not obscure anything important from view, only accented them.

She wondered how she would appear to anyone who saw her - a silhouette with arms pinned above her neck, bells dancing below her jiggling breasts, jaw stretched unnaturally, leg muscles straining in the impossible boots.

Only halfway more to go. She couldn't lose her concentration.

The dildo slipped a little lower and she cursed under her breath.

***

Anthony watched keenly as his hobbled submissive made her way up the path. He was impressed that she had managed to wait so long - her feet and legs must be killing her. But still she was doing it, making it step by painful step up the path. His heart swelled with pride. What a woman. How did he ever come to be so lucky?

Something else was swelling, too, and had in fact been rock hard ever since he'd left the shed. He'd tried to distract himself while waiting, but had failed miserably. The thought of her standing there, suffering yet reveling in the predicament he'd put her in, was almost too much for him to take. It took all his self-control to prevent himself from taking matters into his own hands and carrying her back in to the house to ravish her.

Movement by the nearest fence caught his eye - and, he was sure, hers too. A neighbour was walking to his own shed in the faint light of his doorway, whistling a merry tune. Sophie froze, trembling in fear. Could he see her? If he turned on the shed light, how far would he be able to see? Should she try to hide? Where could she go? Besides, any movement would surely attract his attention with the noise.

She wasn't ready to come out yet. Especially not to her next door neighbour.

What had she done?

For what seemed like an hour, but was really only 5 minutes, she stood stock-still, on full display, before the neighbour made his way back to his house.

As soon as the door slammed shut, she breathed a sigh of relief. Throwing caution to the wind, she teetered to her own door with haste.

Reaching the kitchen door, she was confronted with another predicament - she couldn't knock. What if Tony didn't know she was there? She grunted his name through the gag anyway, bumping against the door with her chest. "Oh-eeh!! Eh eeh ih!"

The door opened, and a hand swooped up and scooped her in. Her salvation.

***

Sophie was sobbing, her entire body trembling, when Anthony laid her down on a couch. The near miss with the neighbour, the abject humiliation, the physical and mental exertion of the entire evening, had taken its toll on her. Anthony removed her dildo, nipple clamps, handcuffs and gag, gave her water to sip, and held her.

"Do you want out, Sophie?" he asked her gently, stroking her hair.

Sobs receding, she looked up into the face of the man who'd put her through this. The piercing blue eyes, now gentle and worried, lined with crows feet.

Inexplicably, she smiled. "No."

The worry disappeared from his features, making him look 10 years younger. "You sure?"

"Yes." She pushed herself up into a somewhat more comfortable position, easing the strain of the corset on her torso. "About that blowjob that you promised me..."

Anthony laughed, mussing her hair affectionately. "Ah, yes. I did promise you that, didn't I?"

She was on her knees with amazing swiftness, her hand reaching into his pants.

"Not so fast," he scolded her, retrieving the belled nipple clamps. "Put these back on first."

Making a face at him, she obediently replaced the clamps onto her nipples, wincing as they made themselves felt.

"Hands behind your neck, or I'll put them there," he instructed, and was pleased when she did so immediately.

He freed himself from his boxer shorts, and then leaned back against the couch as she did her work. His age worked in his favour this time - having already cum a few hours ago, his body was not in a hurry to do so again. For a good 20 minutes, he was able to enjoy the spectacle before him - this gorgeous woman, her face and hair a mess, the bells attached to her nipples tinkling with every bob of her head, her waist cinched into an impossible slenderness... he watched her engulf his penis in her cherry red lips over and over again.

This must be what heaven felt like.

After he came deep into her throat, and she greedily lapped up every last drop, he kissed her and held her for the longest time, and then removed everything except the boots from her. She deserved a night off, he said.

Into her luxurious marble bathtub they went, both of them. She was warm and soft in his arms, and after they had washed each other, she was begging for more. In a rare burst of mercy, he indulged her, and her screams echoed through the bathroom a scant 30 seconds after they'd begun.

It had been a long time since she had orgasmed, and she had done so well today, so he forgave her.

She was still given -10 points, though.

***

Sophie stood by the front door of her house, feeling the chill night air raise goosebumps on her exposed flesh. Her nipples were engorged and hard as rock, gripped by unforgiving clover clamps that sent a constant ache through them. The chain between the clamps was hooked onto one side of a narrow serving tray, with the other side attached to a belt strapped around her waist.

She had gotten quite good at the ballet boots, by the end of the week. They were still wicked contraptions that hurt her toes and imposed great demands on her calf and thigh muscles, but she could mostly stand, walk, and bend unaided with them, even without using her hands for balance.

Anthony was incredibly proud of her. He ran a hand through her polished red curls pulled up in a high ponytail, down to the cleft in her back caused by the armbinder pulling her elbows unforgivingly close together. "You are the most enthralling sight I have ever laid my eyes on, Sophie."

She looked up at him, fear and anticipation and arousal mingling in her wide-eyed expression. And, amazingly, smiled. "Do you think they'll think so, too?"

"Positive."

He led her to the car with her leash, making sure to go as slowly as she needed, but she didn't really need the assistance anymore. Her ankles were connected by a 6-inch chain, forcing her to take tiny, mincing steps on the uneven driveway, but she managed it with surprising ease. The chain connecting her nipple clamps to the serving tray clinked in unison with each step, as her breasts swayed above the tightly-cinched underbust corset.

Black satin panties encircled her hips, the tail from her buttplug swinging freely through the specially-designed hole at the back of the material and swishing against the backs of her knees. He couldn't see it, but he knew there was a medium-sized dildo (large enough to produce constant stimulation and discomfort, but not so large as to prevent her from walking) stretching her pussy, held in place by the panties. And the remote-controlled butterfly... of course. It only seemed fitting that the very first item that bonded them should be present today.

Anthony wished he could take her right here, right now. But it wouldn't do for them to be late.

He felt rather more nervous than she did, in fact. He didn't feel any jealousy at the other boys seeing her - he knew she was his and his alone, and in fact the thought of their envy somewhat stimulated him. But contrary to her assurances, HE wasn't entirely sure that it wouldn't negatively impact her career and her life. He hoped he was wrong.

"Are you alright, Tony?" A whispered female voice broke into his reverie. Sophie stood by the door of the car, unable to open it herself.

"Y-yes," he stammered, then cleared his throat and made himself pull it together. "Are you?"

"Never better," was the minxy reply.

"One last thing," he murmured, fishing into the pocket of his tuxedo and pulling out a 3-inch ballgag. "Open wide, dear."

Her eyes widened, but she did as she was told. He pushed the shiny red ball between her glossy lips, gently at first, but gradually pushing it deeper. When he was convinced that it was firmly lodged as far as it would go, he tightened the strap behind her head. As the finishing touch, a large, very visible padlock went around the buckle.

Their eyes met as he pocketed the key, and he felt his heart skip a beat. She looked more beautiful than he had ever imagined, more beautiful than he had ever thought anyone could be. The ball stretched her jaws open so widely that it distorted her features, forming an almost perfect seal between her lips. She could barely make a sound through it. She was utterly, completely helpless, all his, and ready to show that to the world.

He kissed her on the forehead. "Perfect."

***

A hush fell across the entire ballroom as Sophie and Anthony walked through the door. One person actually dropped their cocktail glass, and it fell to the floor with a crash.

So much for "nothing is too risque", Anthony thought wryly to himself.

"Haven't you folks seen a slave before?" he joked, in a lame attempt to defuse the tension. The room was so quiet, he could hear the thudding of his heart in his chest. Beside him, he could see Sophie's serving tray rising and falling with each quick breath, the filled wineglasses on them wobbling slightly. Her pulse must be racing, too.

Mason was the first to break the silence. "Merry Christmas, Tony!" his baritone voice rang out as he approached them, clapping Anthony on his back. "Mighty fine acquisition, I must say."

Despite his dislike for the man, Anthony felt gratitude washing over him. "She is, isn't she?" Sophie grunted through the gigantic ballgag in annoyance as the Director's steely eyes scanned her from top to bottom, making no pretense of decency.

A small, light-footed figure clad in a diaphanous, flowing dress walked quietly up to Mason and dropped to her knees gracefully by his side. Karen was carrying a small plate of hors d'oeuvres, her wrists chained in front of her. She offered the plate up to Mason, keeping her eyes downcast.

Mason accepted the plate without a word, then turned back to Anthony. "May I?" he asked, gesturing towards Sophie's tray.

"Of course."

"Nghhhhh!" Sophie let out a pained squeal from behind her gag as the plate was placed beside the wineglass on her tray, instantly increasing the tension on her nipples. They were stretched out to almost an inch now, tugged mercilessly by the clover clamps attached to the tray. She began to tremble and hyperventilate - each panicked breath jiggled the tray, further adding to her discomfort.

Mason simply ignored her garbled pleas. "I admit I have understimated you, Tony. How long have the two of you been at it?"

Anthony glanced sideways at Sophie - she must not have even heard Mason, wrapped up as she was in her own world of pain and lust and desperately trying to calm her breathing. "Almost a month."

Mason nodded. "Well done." Finally, his eyes returned to Sophie, but hers were closed in an effort to cope with the pain. "She's trying rather hard not to spill the wine, isn't she?"

Anthony laughed. "Yeah. She gets punished otherwise."

"Pray tell."

"5 strokes of the flogger for each spill, and an additional hour in her garb after the night is over."

The Director chuckled. "Can't fault that myself. Now, if you'll excuse me."