A new Emma

Emma’s nipples burned where the clamps bit into them. Nyasha had added weights small at first, then heavier, metal discs dangling from thin chains that pulled her pink tips down into long, aching cones. When Nyasha clipped the final chain to her clit hood, Emma had screamed. Not from refusal, from the white-hot bolt of pain that ran straight through her cunt and up her spine.

The chain tugged her clit low, the weight pulling every throb into agony. She could feel the swollen bud straining, raw, like it would tear off , It throbbed and pulsed, begging for more.

“Look at her,” Nyasha said to Liyah, her voice rich with amusement. “A proper English wife, tits stretched like udders, clit twitching like it wants to run away.”

Emma sobbed, spit on her chin, hair plastered to her cheeks. Her voice broke as she begged in that perfect posh accent, crude words pouring from her mouth.

“Please, Mistress, don’t stop, hang more weight, make me your fucking toy, I’ll carry it all just don’t take it off, don’t leave me empty—”

Nyasha laughed and gave the weights a flick, making the clamps tug. Emma shrieked, thighs jerking, pussy glistening with slick arousal.

Then Liyah slid onto Nyasha’s lap, grinding herself against her older lover. Emma watched, helpless, as they kissed deep, tongues wet, while Emma swayed in her chains like furniture, her aching tits swinging with each pull of the weights.

Nyasha unbuckled Liyah’s skirt, pulled her panties aside, and slid fingers into her while Emma watched. Liyah moaned, riding the hand, her own gaze fixed on Emma. “She should suffer for us,” she gasped. “Make her swing while we come.”

So they did. Nyasha pulled Emma forward by the chains, making the clamps tug harder, and then pushed her back again. Emma’s body was turned into a pendulum of pain, her swollen breasts and stretched nipples bouncing with each pull. Every jolt dragged the weight on her clit tighter, sharper.

Emma sobbed out filthy begging. “Yes fuck me with it please, I’ll be your **** forever, just don’t let me cum, make me hurt, make me scream”

Days later Emmas writs were untied with strict instruction that she could not play with herself, her body naturally wanted her hands behind her back and for a month it went on. No matter what task she did, crawling, scrubbing, fetching drinks the clamps and weights stayed on. The loads grew heavier, her nipples stretched long and tender, her clit swollen, swollen, always on the edge of tearing, never given release. Each night Nyasha and Liyah used her as a stage, making her sway and moan while they fucked each other to climax. Emma never got hers.

By the time she was sent home, she was a wreck, body sore, tits permanently stretched, nipples elongated and sensitive, clit raw and dangling between her legs Her posh beauty now carried the marks of submission — and she loved it.

Mark opened the door and froze.

Emma stood there in her little black dress that he last seen her in, no bra, no knickers, sandals on her feet. She smiled faintly. “Hello, darling,” she said, her voice trembling with pride and lust.

When the dress slipped off her shoulders, Mark’s eyes went wide. Her tits, once high and firm looked like those of a woman double her age, they swung heavy, long, nipples dangling low, red and swollen. Her once pink clit that had been hidden away in the folds of her pussy was red, obscenely long, the long loose skin hung between her leg showing that had been stretched and tortured into something monstrous.

Emma smiled shyly. “I asked for it,” she whispered. “Every inch of me is for you now. I’m not the woman I was, I’m better. I’m ruined and I’m yours.”

Mark’s cock throbbed instantly, shock and lust colliding. “Jesus Christ, Em…”

She dropped to her knees, tits swaying low, clit throbbing hitting the floor, and pressed her face against his trousers. “Please,” she whispered, filthy, ****. “Fuck your slut wife. Use my new body. I want to show you what they made me.”

When he finally fucked her, Emma screamed, a month’s worth of denied orgasms crashing into one tidal wave. Her stretched tits slapped against her ribs, her clit rubbed raw as she bucked and begged, and when she came, she howled like an animal, tears streaking her face, her body shaking with brutal release.

Mark held her, trembling himself, staring at her ruined, glorious body. And Emma smiled through her tears. “Told you,” she gasped. “I’m new. And I’m never going back.”