Philanthropy
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Philanthropy Part III free porn video
Part III…
I arrived at my office early that next day, about 6:30, to prepare for the job training session with number 12. I had been preparing a powerpoint presentation to review before we got down to work. In it, I layed out the days training plan, hour by hour. I would head over to the town house and I would do the presentation at 10 am, then, we would go downstairs to the “training facility” to get to work for the day.
About 9:30, I grabbed my materials and headed out to meet number 12 promptly at 10am. I arrived a few minutes early and made my way to the door. I did not ring or knock, I let myself in. I was disturbed to find that Elizabeth was still there and had not yet taken the baby to daycare. She was talking to number 12.hmmm…
“What’s going on ladies? A little coffee clatch before the office opens” I k**ded them. Elizabeth looked around to me and said “No, Boss, just girl talk. Must have lost track of time” She nodded to me to meet her at the door. Elizabeth picked up the baby from the swing and headed to the door, number 12 following behind. “ Go ahead and strap him in the car seat - I’ll be right there” Elizabeth said to number 12. Number 12 took the baby with a grin and some baby talk and walked out the front.
“This one is really naive, Boss” Elizabeth told me. “ She is totally freaked out by this whole deal, thinks it was just a bad dream or something”
“What did you tell her?” I asked. “I just stuck with the game plan. It’s part of her training, she’ll be better for it in the long run, she’ll grow to understand. Blah blah blah” ELizabeth related.
“Did you tell her about your experience?” I asked.
“ Not in so many words… but I’m sure it’s coming together in her head” Elizabeth said.
“ Well, you were my tit slave for two years and you still work for me, what does that say?” I asked.
“It’s different for me, Boss. I was looking to explore BDSM play. I wanted to find out...and I did. She is in shock. She didn’t even know this was a “thing”. I don’t regret it, I still get off on having my tits tortured, you know that” She explained.
“ I guess I hope you’ll still put me to use in that way, even though you have a new toy”. Don’t get me wrong, boss - I have a dream job - run your errands, free car, time is my own… but you must have trained me right. My nipples still ache everytime you walk in the room. I’ve been going home each night and tying my own udders up and torturing them until I cum. Like I said, I’m happy. You’ve been great. I just kind of miss…”
“Tell you what” I said “ Let me get number 12 up to speed. I’m starting to think there is a place for you in this relationship”
Wow. The mind races at the thought. Why had I not considered it before? Inviting Elizabeth to help in the training. Who better. That definitely needs some more thought.
Just then, number 12 returned, looked to elizabeth and said “all ready”. There was a bit of unsteadiness in her voice and she looked at her with glassy eyes, as if to silently say “don’t leave me”. Even better. She is now looking at Elizabeth as her savior. This will turn out well with time.
Elizabeth got in the car and drove off. I escorted number 12 to the “office”, entering the lock code to get in.
Number 12 was dressed as I had specified. Almost. She was in a white Polo style knit shirt with a shortish red skirt, black heels. When I say almost, I noticed right away the perky nature of her decidedly no longer perky udders. I could see the tell tale bra straps at her shoulders under the shirt.
“Ok, first lesson today.Learning to follow written instructions” I told her. She looked puzzled. “ What is on your instructions to wear to work today?” I asked.
“Ummm...they are here in my binder you gave me...uhhh..I know I did it exactly as you said” she mumbled. “Yes, right here...white polo, red skirt, red heels… just as it says” She looked up proudly, waiting to be congratulated for being right. I walked up to her, went to her back, grabbed the wide, 4 hook bra strap, pulled it hard and let it snap. “Owww!!!” she yelped.
“Where in those instructions do you see a bra mentioned?” I asked politely. “Exactly nowhere” I stated. I looked her in the eye as I took my right hand and quickly shot up her skirt and grabbed her pussy -hard! Again, she yelped. “ Were panties anywhere on that list? Anywhere?” I asked.
“No…”she said,fighting tears
.”Remember, in business, it’s just as important to read what is NOT written as it is to understand what is.” I chastised. “ Take them off so we can start” I told her.
She started to remove the shirt… “Whoa...take it off from under with the shirt on” I said. She looked puzzled. “What, you don’t know how to do that? I laughed “ You were never in the back seat or a movie theater with your boyfriend? Wow, you are a babe of the woods!” I laughed heartily, obviously embarrassing her. She should embrace the feeling. A year from now, she won’t be embarrassed by anything again.
She finally had removed the offending articles and straightened herself back up. Now her udders were properly displayed, sagging to her waist, stretching the shirt to the sides, thick nipples pointing left and right, like TV knobs jutting into the knit fabric. I’m already hard at this sight. If ever there was a Pavlovian response, it is my dick getting hard at just the sight of distended nipples poking through a shirt.
I directed her to take a seat at the desk I had in the corner of the “classroom”. I sat behind the desk and fired up the PC and the TV screen mounted on the wall behind me. I inserted my jump drive and started my powerpoint presentation. Number 12 sat attentively and looked puzzled, not knowing where this was going. Far different from what she expected, as she expected to be tied to something by now.
As the screen comes to life, the first slide is a graphic picture of a poor girl tightly bound to a metal rack. Her enormous breasts are wrapped with zip ties, from the very base, and then every three inches or so. The ballooned jugs jut straight out but you can see by the sheer size and weight, they probably sit comfortably at her navel when unrestricted. There are several metal skewers poked through at clock angles , at least 6 per udder. The nipples are wrapped with rubber bands, stretching the thick dugs into little 3 inch sausages. At the tip of the nipples, s sheet metal screw has been drilled into the milk duct and a little telltale drop of her mother’s nectar is ready to drip off shiny head of the screw. To cap it all off, electrical wire culminating in a metal alligator clip is clamped to the screw head. The crinkled look on her face tells the tale of what is at the other end of those wires and the voltage seems to be gloriously high.
Number 12 stares at the picture in double life size 65” color HDTV splendor. She is silent, her eyes wide. She is shocked.
Slide two is titled “ Breast experimentation, use and torture training or, “ how to be a dumb cunt tit whore for the rest of your life”... I thought it was funny, she didn’t laugh.
The presentation continues with descriptions land photos of different breast torture techniques. It starts with the mild and mundane, with subjects like “ tying the breasts with soft rope for sexual excitement “ and “ 50 shades of bland” on different vanilla tit games many couples play. It is explained that these games are often played by normal couples as a work up to sex. They can morph into more severe forms of BDSM, most specifically, the “S” part for sado or sadism. It is at this point that the sexual gratification of the female life support mechanism for the udders is no longer a consideration. The only future purpose of the female is to provide an attractive and interactive mounting platform for the udders. All this in a concerted effort to coax copious amounts of semen from men for their ultimate sexual gratification.
There is a slide describing the sexual evolution to this point as being Darwin-istic in reality and that nature has redirected the course. Procreation at this point is now rudimentary in its penultimate goals- pregnancy in the udder support system for milk production and sexual arousal of makes to the pregnant form and, to create future udder providers. The scientific thought is that like other natural tendencies, in only a few generations, this behavior will not have to be taught as it is here, but naturally instinctive. Females will offer their udders willingly and males will understand instinctively what to do with them.
At this point, number 12 is visibly appalled at all of this. She is not crying , but she is angered and disturbed.
I then start the video that depicts the young udder whore in the picture at the beginning of her 4 hour session. We watch together as a bouncing, giggly girl willingly sits on the bench and is tied down by her tormentor to start the session. I explain to number 12 that we will start in this manner today and ultimately, by week's end, she will have achieved what this set of udders has completed in the video and picture.
It is at this point the tears return. I ignore her sobs and take her arm to set her in the work chair. She struggles to pull away but a swift, hard smack to her left udder with my free hand causes her to submit and move forward.
“ I spent a lot of development tome on that presentation for you !” I scolded. “ why would you think you would not be participating and , did you think you were leaving? She looked down, stopped her sniffles and now complied.
“ this is.. it’s just… why? I don’t understand this at all!!” She started to shriek. A quick slap to her face brought her back to reality.
“ listen! I have had enough of the “ I don’t get it” game . Are you fucking regraded?!??” I shouted at her. “ I can’t be anymore clear of what you now do for a living. You have a contract, you had a training day, we’ve talked about it. I just showed you a god damned 45 minute presentation !” I told her with no patience or professionalism left in my voice.
“Get in the fucking chair and let’s move! I don’t have all morning to molly coddle you!” “ what part of I-OWN-YOUR-FUCKING-TITS don’t you understand ?!” I shouted at her inches from her face.
Number 12 screamed in terror and then started sobbing. I threw her in the chair and deftly clamped her wrists to the arms. I then clamped her ankles to the legs.she is breathing hard, sobbing, but it’s slowing down now to sniffles.
Her udders now sat comfortably on her lap, the white polo restraining them. The sight of the daggers through the fabric with the wet spots directing my eye to her brown nipples pointing through was divine. My anger subsided and like a d**g, I was getting back that euphoria that comes each time I see this sight.
I decide I’m so taken with the look of her udders under the straining white cloth that I’ll start tying them while covered. Just as in the video she saw, I reached to the tool tray and grabbed a big, thick , black … see here, you thought I was gonna say dildo. Ha… silly… no, a big black zip tie.
I took the tie, made a loop then eased it over her left udder as I rolled my under the heavy melon to guide it to the base. I pulled it up as close and tight to her chest as possible, alternating workingvthe zip tie over the udder, pulling the nipple to stretch the tit and try to tighten the zip tie all at the same time. It takes practice, but the practice is as rewarding as the game.
Now fully seated at the base of her udder, I pull the first zip tie tight. I’m not concerned about cutting off blood flow for a few reasons. First, the shirt is on, second is that they are milk swollen,it won’t clamp the blood supply to any degree and last… what the fuck do I care.
With the left udder now tied and mushroomed, the tit is rock hard., the nipple and areola jut out like the bumper tips on a 57 Buick. She squirts and whimpers. “ it’s too tight ! It hurts! It hurts bad!” She cries. “ I guess I did it right then, huh?” I replied in jest.
I reach down under that short tennis skirt to feel up her snatch. She’s wet but not excited, just nerves and emotion, I guess. I decide to get my first taste of that sweet pussy. I get down between her knees, lift the skirt and direct my tongue to her neatly trimmed V. As I start to lick, she starts to cry again . The tears maKe me even harder and I start to lick harder, faster. I reach up and pull the nipple on her unrestrained right udder, rolling in my fingers. Now she moans, maybe in agony, maybe she’s starting to accept it and felt a twinge of pleasure. It makes me lap even harder at her cunt and squeeze the nipple even harder. I reach over and suddenly smack the zip tied udder. She yelps , it turns me on even more! I pull out my cock as I lap at her now juicy cunt.
To be continued ….
I arrived at my office early that next day, about 6:30, to prepare for the job training session with number 12. I had been preparing a powerpoint presentation to review before we got down to work. In it, I layed out the days training plan, hour by hour. I would head over to the town house and I would do the presentation at 10 am, then, we would go downstairs to the “training facility” to get to work for the day.
About 9:30, I grabbed my materials and headed out to meet number 12 promptly at 10am. I arrived a few minutes early and made my way to the door. I did not ring or knock, I let myself in. I was disturbed to find that Elizabeth was still there and had not yet taken the baby to daycare. She was talking to number 12.hmmm…
“What’s going on ladies? A little coffee clatch before the office opens” I k**ded them. Elizabeth looked around to me and said “No, Boss, just girl talk. Must have lost track of time” She nodded to me to meet her at the door. Elizabeth picked up the baby from the swing and headed to the door, number 12 following behind. “ Go ahead and strap him in the car seat - I’ll be right there” Elizabeth said to number 12. Number 12 took the baby with a grin and some baby talk and walked out the front.
“This one is really naive, Boss” Elizabeth told me. “ She is totally freaked out by this whole deal, thinks it was just a bad dream or something”
“What did you tell her?” I asked. “I just stuck with the game plan. It’s part of her training, she’ll be better for it in the long run, she’ll grow to understand. Blah blah blah” ELizabeth related.
“Did you tell her about your experience?” I asked.
“ Not in so many words… but I’m sure it’s coming together in her head” Elizabeth said.
“ Well, you were my tit slave for two years and you still work for me, what does that say?” I asked.
“It’s different for me, Boss. I was looking to explore BDSM play. I wanted to find out...and I did. She is in shock. She didn’t even know this was a “thing”. I don’t regret it, I still get off on having my tits tortured, you know that” She explained.
“ I guess I hope you’ll still put me to use in that way, even though you have a new toy”. Don’t get me wrong, boss - I have a dream job - run your errands, free car, time is my own… but you must have trained me right. My nipples still ache everytime you walk in the room. I’ve been going home each night and tying my own udders up and torturing them until I cum. Like I said, I’m happy. You’ve been great. I just kind of miss…”
“Tell you what” I said “ Let me get number 12 up to speed. I’m starting to think there is a place for you in this relationship”
Wow. The mind races at the thought. Why had I not considered it before? Inviting Elizabeth to help in the training. Who better. That definitely needs some more thought.
Just then, number 12 returned, looked to elizabeth and said “all ready”. There was a bit of unsteadiness in her voice and she looked at her with glassy eyes, as if to silently say “don’t leave me”. Even better. She is now looking at Elizabeth as her savior. This will turn out well with time.
Elizabeth got in the car and drove off. I escorted number 12 to the “office”, entering the lock code to get in.
Number 12 was dressed as I had specified. Almost. She was in a white Polo style knit shirt with a shortish red skirt, black heels. When I say almost, I noticed right away the perky nature of her decidedly no longer perky udders. I could see the tell tale bra straps at her shoulders under the shirt.
“Ok, first lesson today.Learning to follow written instructions” I told her. She looked puzzled. “ What is on your instructions to wear to work today?” I asked.
“Ummm...they are here in my binder you gave me...uhhh..I know I did it exactly as you said” she mumbled. “Yes, right here...white polo, red skirt, red heels… just as it says” She looked up proudly, waiting to be congratulated for being right. I walked up to her, went to her back, grabbed the wide, 4 hook bra strap, pulled it hard and let it snap. “Owww!!!” she yelped.
“Where in those instructions do you see a bra mentioned?” I asked politely. “Exactly nowhere” I stated. I looked her in the eye as I took my right hand and quickly shot up her skirt and grabbed her pussy -hard! Again, she yelped. “ Were panties anywhere on that list? Anywhere?” I asked.
“No…”she said,fighting tears
.”Remember, in business, it’s just as important to read what is NOT written as it is to understand what is.” I chastised. “ Take them off so we can start” I told her.
She started to remove the shirt… “Whoa...take it off from under with the shirt on” I said. She looked puzzled. “What, you don’t know how to do that? I laughed “ You were never in the back seat or a movie theater with your boyfriend? Wow, you are a babe of the woods!” I laughed heartily, obviously embarrassing her. She should embrace the feeling. A year from now, she won’t be embarrassed by anything again.
She finally had removed the offending articles and straightened herself back up. Now her udders were properly displayed, sagging to her waist, stretching the shirt to the sides, thick nipples pointing left and right, like TV knobs jutting into the knit fabric. I’m already hard at this sight. If ever there was a Pavlovian response, it is my dick getting hard at just the sight of distended nipples poking through a shirt.
I directed her to take a seat at the desk I had in the corner of the “classroom”. I sat behind the desk and fired up the PC and the TV screen mounted on the wall behind me. I inserted my jump drive and started my powerpoint presentation. Number 12 sat attentively and looked puzzled, not knowing where this was going. Far different from what she expected, as she expected to be tied to something by now.
As the screen comes to life, the first slide is a graphic picture of a poor girl tightly bound to a metal rack. Her enormous breasts are wrapped with zip ties, from the very base, and then every three inches or so. The ballooned jugs jut straight out but you can see by the sheer size and weight, they probably sit comfortably at her navel when unrestricted. There are several metal skewers poked through at clock angles , at least 6 per udder. The nipples are wrapped with rubber bands, stretching the thick dugs into little 3 inch sausages. At the tip of the nipples, s sheet metal screw has been drilled into the milk duct and a little telltale drop of her mother’s nectar is ready to drip off shiny head of the screw. To cap it all off, electrical wire culminating in a metal alligator clip is clamped to the screw head. The crinkled look on her face tells the tale of what is at the other end of those wires and the voltage seems to be gloriously high.
Number 12 stares at the picture in double life size 65” color HDTV splendor. She is silent, her eyes wide. She is shocked.
Slide two is titled “ Breast experimentation, use and torture training or, “ how to be a dumb cunt tit whore for the rest of your life”... I thought it was funny, she didn’t laugh.
The presentation continues with descriptions land photos of different breast torture techniques. It starts with the mild and mundane, with subjects like “ tying the breasts with soft rope for sexual excitement “ and “ 50 shades of bland” on different vanilla tit games many couples play. It is explained that these games are often played by normal couples as a work up to sex. They can morph into more severe forms of BDSM, most specifically, the “S” part for sado or sadism. It is at this point that the sexual gratification of the female life support mechanism for the udders is no longer a consideration. The only future purpose of the female is to provide an attractive and interactive mounting platform for the udders. All this in a concerted effort to coax copious amounts of semen from men for their ultimate sexual gratification.
There is a slide describing the sexual evolution to this point as being Darwin-istic in reality and that nature has redirected the course. Procreation at this point is now rudimentary in its penultimate goals- pregnancy in the udder support system for milk production and sexual arousal of makes to the pregnant form and, to create future udder providers. The scientific thought is that like other natural tendencies, in only a few generations, this behavior will not have to be taught as it is here, but naturally instinctive. Females will offer their udders willingly and males will understand instinctively what to do with them.
At this point, number 12 is visibly appalled at all of this. She is not crying , but she is angered and disturbed.
I then start the video that depicts the young udder whore in the picture at the beginning of her 4 hour session. We watch together as a bouncing, giggly girl willingly sits on the bench and is tied down by her tormentor to start the session. I explain to number 12 that we will start in this manner today and ultimately, by week's end, she will have achieved what this set of udders has completed in the video and picture.
It is at this point the tears return. I ignore her sobs and take her arm to set her in the work chair. She struggles to pull away but a swift, hard smack to her left udder with my free hand causes her to submit and move forward.
“ I spent a lot of development tome on that presentation for you !” I scolded. “ why would you think you would not be participating and , did you think you were leaving? She looked down, stopped her sniffles and now complied.
“ this is.. it’s just… why? I don’t understand this at all!!” She started to shriek. A quick slap to her face brought her back to reality.
“ listen! I have had enough of the “ I don’t get it” game . Are you fucking regraded?!??” I shouted at her. “ I can’t be anymore clear of what you now do for a living. You have a contract, you had a training day, we’ve talked about it. I just showed you a god damned 45 minute presentation !” I told her with no patience or professionalism left in my voice.
“Get in the fucking chair and let’s move! I don’t have all morning to molly coddle you!” “ what part of I-OWN-YOUR-FUCKING-TITS don’t you understand ?!” I shouted at her inches from her face.
Number 12 screamed in terror and then started sobbing. I threw her in the chair and deftly clamped her wrists to the arms. I then clamped her ankles to the legs.she is breathing hard, sobbing, but it’s slowing down now to sniffles.
Her udders now sat comfortably on her lap, the white polo restraining them. The sight of the daggers through the fabric with the wet spots directing my eye to her brown nipples pointing through was divine. My anger subsided and like a d**g, I was getting back that euphoria that comes each time I see this sight.
I decide I’m so taken with the look of her udders under the straining white cloth that I’ll start tying them while covered. Just as in the video she saw, I reached to the tool tray and grabbed a big, thick , black … see here, you thought I was gonna say dildo. Ha… silly… no, a big black zip tie.
I took the tie, made a loop then eased it over her left udder as I rolled my under the heavy melon to guide it to the base. I pulled it up as close and tight to her chest as possible, alternating workingvthe zip tie over the udder, pulling the nipple to stretch the tit and try to tighten the zip tie all at the same time. It takes practice, but the practice is as rewarding as the game.
Now fully seated at the base of her udder, I pull the first zip tie tight. I’m not concerned about cutting off blood flow for a few reasons. First, the shirt is on, second is that they are milk swollen,it won’t clamp the blood supply to any degree and last… what the fuck do I care.
With the left udder now tied and mushroomed, the tit is rock hard., the nipple and areola jut out like the bumper tips on a 57 Buick. She squirts and whimpers. “ it’s too tight ! It hurts! It hurts bad!” She cries. “ I guess I did it right then, huh?” I replied in jest.
I reach down under that short tennis skirt to feel up her snatch. She’s wet but not excited, just nerves and emotion, I guess. I decide to get my first taste of that sweet pussy. I get down between her knees, lift the skirt and direct my tongue to her neatly trimmed V. As I start to lick, she starts to cry again . The tears maKe me even harder and I start to lick harder, faster. I reach up and pull the nipple on her unrestrained right udder, rolling in my fingers. Now she moans, maybe in agony, maybe she’s starting to accept it and felt a twinge of pleasure. It makes me lap even harder at her cunt and squeeze the nipple even harder. I reach over and suddenly smack the zip tied udder. She yelps , it turns me on even more! I pull out my cock as I lap at her now juicy cunt.
To be continued ….
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