Nanny 3 | free bondage story

   Though released from her bondage, Cindy was still numb from pain. Jim had removed the gag harness and straps, leaving only the corset in place, before untying the cord from her toes. Rather than releasing her breasts, he grasped her purple tits and wrapped the cord tightly around the base. He set her on the floor, and as she lay limply, he carefully pulled out a heavy box he had kept in the closet. A month ago, he had ordered a custom set of heavy steel cuffs and collars, and now was the time to use them. A four-inch wide steel posture collar fit first. As he fit it around her neck, pushing the seam together, he admired the craftsmanship involved. The ends met perfectly, and only with close inspection could anyone see the line. A long thin rod fit down a small hole on the top edge. Once seated, Jim used a small tool to screw it down to the bottom. Wide, heavy cuffs circled her wrists, ankles, upper arms and even her thighs, attaching in the same seamless manner.. Thick chain connected the thigh cuffs, holding them within four inches of each other. Another six-inch piece of chain connected her ankles, with another length extending up her back, linking to the middle of her thigh chain, then to her upper arm cuffs, before ending at the back of her collar. Her upper arms were forced together, linking via rigid loops on the inside of each, locking to the chain as well.  Another length of chain reached from the front of her collar, connecting to her thigh chain from the front, then joining to her ankle chain as well. Lifting up to her knees, Jim pulled her wrists down, the right cuff to the right thigh cuff, and the left to the left. With her elbows locked together, Cindy couldn’t help but push her abused chest out, displaying the purple globes for her master.      With thinner chain, Jim connected a piece to her left nipple ring, then lifted the end to her nose ring. Cindy cried out from the pain of simply touching her breast. The second chain connected her right nipple ring to her nose ring as well. Jim stepped behind her, starting to lace her long, blonde hair into a ponytail.

     “Happy birthday, Cindy,” he said as he created a long tail. “Rather than a spanking, I thought I’d make your 17th birthday more memorable.” Slipping the long strand under her elbow bondage, he began to pull, forcing Cindy’s head back. The chains connected to her nose ring shortened immediately, and her tortured breasts were lifted up high. Her screams echoed through the room as Jim made sure her head was pulled back as far as it would go before tying the ponytail off. Moving around front, Jim chose a wood cane from the selection of whips in the closet.

     “I’ll give you 17 strokes to each breast.” Cindy cried out, new tears streaming.

     “I can’t take anymore,” she said in a cracked, defeated voice. “Please, Jim. Please!” Jim simply smiled.

     “You can stop begging, slut,” he said menacingly. “17 strokes to each breast. And if you faint, I’ll wake you with smelling salts, then start all over again. Here we go!” Cindy couldn’t see, but she heard the whish of wind as the cane cut through the air, before landing on the purple underside. Her world exploded in pain, and she screamed like never before.

     In the end, Cindy took 53 total strokes to her left breast, having fainted five times, and with 8 fainting spells, 82 to her right. The punishment had taken over three hours. Focusing most of his punishment on the exposed underside of each breast, the combined purple from the long term constriction along with the series of raised welts from each cane stroke, had made her breasts look like they had increased nearly twice the size. Delirious from the pain, Cindy had begun to mumble quiet pleadings to stop. Jim ignored them all, savoring his torture of his beautiful slave.

     Removing the chains connected to her nose ring and nipples, Jim exchanged  them with a cable from the ceiling to her nose ring, tightened to hold her upright. He untied her breasts, and Cindy fainted from the pain as blood rushed back into her chest. As she dangled by the nose from the ceiling, her body slumping to the side, Jim unchained her wrists, placing a chain between them in front of her body, locked to the front chain running from collar to ankle. Placing cuffs just above her elbows, he wrenched them together behind her back, leaving her hands with limited motion. Lowering the chain connected to her nose ring, Jim set her gently to the floor, and for a moment admired her chained and punished body in front of him.

     It seemed to take hours but Cindy’s first task for her birthday weekend seemed nearly finished. After regaining consciousness, Jim had forced her to waddle down the stairs, dumping her on the kitchen floor beside a low bucket filled with soapy water and a small sponge.

     “I want this floor spotless,” Jim ordered. Cindy looked around her, rolling on to her side to avoid pressure on her punished breasts.

     “I can’t do much with my hands like this, Master,” she mumbled. Jim reached down and grabbed a handful of hair, shoving her face to the floor.

     “Use your mouth, slut,” he ordered. “And I expect that bucket to be empty when you’re done as well.” Cindy moaned, looking over the floor. She knew how most floors looked fairly clean when standing, but once at this level, she could see the buildup of dirt, hairs and grime that had collected. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain on her ass. Looking up, Jim held a long cane.

     “Get busy,” he ordered. “We have guests coming over tonight and I expect this to be done.” Cindy slid her body to the bucket, sticking her face into it to grab the sponge with her teeth. Lifting it out, she pressed the sponge against the floor, rubbing it back and forth to scrub an area, then put the sponge back in the bucket. She quickly discovered it wouldn’t be easy to do without the use of her hands. A small puddle of water still remained on the floor. Clenching her teeth, she squeezed the sponge out in the bucket, trying not to gag on the stream of soapy water that seeped down her throat as well. Bringing the sponge back, she found that she was unable to completely dry the sponge, and as she tried to soak up the water, more of a puddle grew. Looking out in front of her, the kitchen seemed vast; she knew it was going to be a long day.

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     Lifting the sponge with her teeth, she pulled it into her mouth, then sucked the dirty, soapy water out of it, swallowing the liquid. She had found many hours ago that it was the only way to squeeze the sponge enough. Her stomach turned over again as the vile water reached  it, but she resisted the urge to vomit, certain she would be required to clean that up as well, and spit the sponge back out again. Pushing it around the floor, she dried off the last spot, then sucked the sponge dry once more, before dropping it to the side and licking the spot carefully, her tongue fully flattened as she pressed it against the floor.

     Finally, Cindy collapsed to her side, weeping in defeat, exhausted from her ordeal. The sound of Jim’s footsteps barely stirred her.

     “There’s still water in this bucket, slave,” he said. Cindy opened her eyes to look in. The bottom held a cup of dirty, brown sludge, a combination of hairs, shoe dirt and old food pieces dropped over the past months. In sucking the sponge dry, Cindy had tasted her share of that material, and had hoped it would be enough. Jim grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to her knees. Cindy cried out.

     “I’m sorry, Master!”

     “Open your mouth,” he commanded. Cindy did as she was told, but began to cry a she knew what would come next. Jim brought the bucket to her mouth, and poured the dirty liquid in. The taste of the material running over her tongue brought new stomach convulsions. Jim quickly finished pouring, then clamped her mouth shut, while holding her nostrils closed. Cindy could feel the bile rise, and her mouth quickly filled with her own vomit. But with nowhere to go, she knew she would be forced to swallow it again before Jim allowed her to breath. She forced herself to swallow, feeling her own stomach contents slide down her throat. Her stomach fought once more, but she managed to keep control, and soon Jim released her. Dropping Cindy to the floor, she moaned in humiliation and defeat, the taste of vomit entrenched in her mouth and nostrils. Jim pushed the bucket under her face.

     “Lick it clean.” Cindy looked down, seeing the remaining muddy sludge at the bottom. She began to cry again as she stuck her ringed tongue out once more to scoop up the wad of hair and dirt at the bottom.