Lowest of the Low

I got my eyes wide and semi-dazed looking, forced a smile, and started to read. The words spattered out, and I knew that I sounded like Daffy Duck with his beak full of marbles. "Hi! My thame is PT McKhethan, ahd I'm a braithleth bimbo! I'll do athything tho worthip ahy pehis I cah, eveh if ith ripth aparth the love of people fer bether thah Il am. I'lm a compliahth bimbo who will do athy theng to thuck tholh. May I pleathe pith Mith?" (Hi! My name is PT McLellan, and I'm a brainless bimbo! I'll do anything to worship any penis I can, even if it rips apart the love of people far better than I am. I'm a compliant bimbo who will do anything to suck cock. May I please piss Miss?

She smiled and nodded. I was glad that I made it on the first try, as I didn't want to suffer through that again. As my bladder relieved itself through the golden stream, she panned the camera of the laptop from my face, my exposed boobs, and seeing me peeing. She pointedly over-smiled and pointed to me. I got the hint and forced a smile of my own, trying to keep my eyes brainlessly over-wide as if in wonder. This bitch had my life in her hands. She could utterly ruin me whenever she wished. She was going to use that to ease her childhood anguish whether I wanted to or not, and we both knew it.

When I was done peeing, she smiled. "Well, at least you seem to be a compliant bimbo. Open your mouth."

I quickly opened my mouth, and she put in a piece of something thin and flappy, and the taste of rubber pervaded my mouth. She then held up a small piece of cotton wadding, like the kind that dentists and orthodontists put into patient's mouths, but these seemed sized for a younger client size than what he would use. "Dad has like a zillion of these things. Let's see how many it takes to stuff a bimbo." She started to put them in the rubber glove in my mouth, putting in more and more. She forced my jaw wide open, and kept stuffing. The glove was soon stuffed large enough that my cheeks started to bulge out, and more wads were stuffed in.

When my jaw was as wide as it could, and my cheeks were blown out as far as they could go, she pulled out a roll of wide white tape. She planted one end on my cheek almost back to my ear, and peeled it around my face, sticking a few more cotton rolls into my mouth just before the tape stuffed them in deeper. The tape was almost up to my nose, and it was rolled across to just before the opposite ear. She stuck the end of the roll of tape on my check again, and rolled another strip below the first with a bit of overlap, so that I was covered nose to chin in tape to hold the wads in place. "Now I'm going to want you to be very quiet..." She stuck the end of the tape under my chin, and started peeling. She ran it up across my cheek, then pushed up on my chin to force me to clench down hard on the wads, then ran the tape over my nose and down my cheek, ending it under my chin. I tried to ease up clenching on the stuffed rubber glove, but the circle of tape from my jaw to my nose held quite firmly. The wicked bitch smiled proudly. "Good. Now you will be a quiet bimbo."

She then strode out the door into the garage, snapping her fingers. "Come bimbo." She didn't even look back. The garage had huge windows to let in the light! I crawled after her. I was glad that the garage was heated against the winter chill, but I was still feeling so self-conscious being visible from outside when I was so un-dressed. All that I wore was cuffs I had my mouth stuffed with wadding. As I crawled, I looked down at the rubber bands that were still tormenting my boobs. In hindsight, I realize that I never even considered removing them despite how they throbbed.

As I entered the garage, I crawled on the cement around the corner of Master's workbench, and saw the dining room table. My eyes got wide. Having the table out here with its boob cut-outs could only end badly for me. However, it was so clear to be that it wasn't my place in life to have choices. I was changing all the more into a compliant bitch.

She stood me up, and peeled out more tape. She slapped one end on the base of my boob, and took great pleasure on pulling it taut, wrapping it around my boob as tight as she could, crushing the base of my tit, and making the rest balloon out. I felt it throbbing as the blood tried to go in and out. I knew what was coming, so I turned to offer the other boob to her. She took another strip of tape, and tightly wrapped my other breast like the first, so that they throbbed in perfect harmony with each other. I was then guided to bend over the table. I put my boobs in the table cut-outs, and she shut the table on my boobs. I whimpered helplessly as the table squeezed my tits all the more while holding me in place.

The large dense foam blocks were put on either side of my head, and once again, my head was secured to the table, looking out the cut-out to the garage floor. I heard her heels clicking on the cement as she walked to the end of the table over my head. I lifted my hands up toward her. Resistance was futile. She pulled them taut and snapped a clip to hold them in place before walking back to my butt. I spread my legs wide, like they were before, and they too were clipped in place.

A few odd noises, and then something pressed against my ass. It was cold and firm. She must have found the damn golf ball thruster. I tried to relax my rear as much as I could, and let it slip in. As it went deeper, I realized that it wasn't golf balls. It was maybe the size of two fingers, but smooth. She slid it deeper, and I wondered what it was...a vibrator? Then a base hit my rear before I was really full. Maybe it is a short vibrator?

After a few moments, I stiffened in surprise as the intruder started to grow inside of my rear. A balloon? Then I realized what it was – a speculum – The spreader beast that every woman fears as part of a ob/gyn pap smear. First the far end spread apart until I felt a stretch. Then the base spread apart about the same amount, leaving my ass gaping wide open. She then went back and spread my inside wider and wider. I shrieked, but the cotton wads muffled it down to barely audible. I yanked with my wrists to try to cover my ass, but the cuffs held them firm. Was this bitch trying to rip me apart from the inside? Then the finally stopped, and worked on adjusting the base of the speculum again, getting it wider and wider. I tried to relax, but it got wider and wider until I was wailing uncontrollably into my gag, and tugging helplessly on my cuffs.

The lady then surprised me – I heard her footsteps walking away, leaving me there. After a minute or two of silence, I grew concerned. Did she leave? Being tied naked and exposed by a freaky bitch who hates you with your ass spread wide open will play tricks on you. I pulled lightly on my wrists and ankles, but they weren't going anywhere. I tried to move my head, but the foam stopped any movement – the ear cut-outs were only so large.

I leapt out of my skin as a sudden jet of cold water shot into the inside of my left thigh, splashing me. It stopped as soon as it began, but I was on edge! What the heck was that?

Maybe 20 long seconds later, a short burst suddenly hit on the top of my ass, I jumped as it hit. Some of the spray went right into my ass! Instincts sprang into play, and I clenched my ass to close it – I wound up only trying to squeeze the speculum to no avail. The rest of the spray when up my back, drenching it in the cold water. Then there was silence again. I tried to look at what she was doing, but I could only see the plain cement of the garage floor.

MMfffghh! I squealed and yanked as another burst of water went right up my ass! That bitch was taking potshots at my gaping ass with a freakin' garden hose! I was panting helplessly through my nose, but to her, my ass was being offered for target practice!

Spurt after spurt of water was shot. I turned into a trembling mess, panting nervously through my nose, never knowing when the next shot would be squirted, not exactly where it would land.

I heard her heels approaching. "OK. Enough fun. Down to business." She set the hose to go right into my ass, gushing water that churned around, and poured right back out. The gushing and churning water affected me on a deep spiritual level – it was as if she was humiliating and abusing my very soul. "Here. Hold this." She pulled another strip of tape, smoothing it on the back of my left thigh. She peeled it across the hose, and smoothed the other end down to the front of my thigh, holding the gushing hose into my ass. A few more strips followed, making sure the hose kept flushing deep into my ass. I was nearly catatonic, muttering one long guttural moan as the water flowed in and out of my ass in its chaotic gushing.

As the water splattered down out of my ass, she walked a bit one way, then a bit the other. I wondered what she was up to. Was it photography to keep me more in line? Preparing some further humiliation? I whimpered pitifully into the gag and tugged half-heartedly against the cuffs. Was it that I was beat from the churning in my bowels and throbbing in my breasts, helplessness, or was it mental submission? The lines between the three of them blurred as they all merged together in my tormented mind.

The water finally shut off, and the water that was left in my ass splashed down upon the garage floor. The lady cooed. "So. Just how many rolls can you take?" She tossed in a small cotton roll. I jumped from the surprise of it hitting deep up my ass. It was light, so not terribly painful, but people just aren't used to anything hitting up there! She tossed in another and another into my dark hole.

When there were enough that one roll would hit the other, it wasn't the same sharp surprise; I stopped jumping. The bitch seemed to tired of it without my surprised reaction. I squealed into the gag as I felt something large pushing up my ass. The widest part passed, and it twisted, dumping a load of cotton rolls to stuff my ass. She was using a small freakin' ladle to stuff me! It then withdrew, only to pull up another scoop and go back in. After three dumps, she took the blunt end of the ladle and brutally shoved what she had dumped deeper in. I squealed my complaint, and yanked on the chains, but to no avail. Then it pulled back out of my ass, only to scoop more cotton rolls. After three more dumps, she used the blunt end again to pack my ass as tight as she could. I was moaning and whimpering uncontrollably, but the gag was very effective. I don't even know if the lady right behind my ass heard me.

She continued packing in more and more cotton rolls. When my ass was fully stuffed, I heard the peeling of tape. I was nervous, yet oddly submissive and accepting. I had the understanding that I had no choice in what she would do. I felt one end of the wide roll smoothed out on the small of my back, and tautly run down right over my ass to hold the cotton rolls deep inside of me. She ran it over my vagina, and it ended just below my belly button. Then another strip was added, just to the left of the first, and smoothed out just as taut. And then a third strip was added just to the right, making a very wide white band that held everything inside. She peeled off another long strip, and started wrapping that around my waist, over the ends of the vertical strips. It went around and around, each pass seemingly more snug than the last until I was wearing white tape panties to hold the rolls in place.

With her job apparently done, she set to releasing me from the table – first the ankle cuffs. I groaned as I moved my legs together. The inside of my legs ached from being stretched, but it was really the cotton rolls stretching me and working up my intestines that was working my body over.

She released my wrists, and finally let my boobs free of the imprisonment of the table. She looked at me. I could feel the mock concern in her voice. "So. Tell me. How are you feeling? Is there anything that you would like to do? Oh come tell me..."

My body wobbled and I tried to tell her that my ass was stuffed too much. I put on my best pleading puppy dog eyes and tried to beg her to let me take them out, to be merciful. I could only hope that she understood me through what had been stuffed in my mouth.

She feigned surprise. "Oh really? Wow! You are one kinky/me bimbo." I was scared. She had plans, but I had to wait for her to reveal them. She went on with one word I wasn't expecting, but suddenly dreaded - "Aerobics? OK! I'm game!"

I was stunned. Aerobics? I didn't say that! The crazy bitch quickly ushered me inside. I groaned deeply as I crawled. I was so stuffed! She handed me two weights, each maybe ½ kg, and taped my hands into a fist around them so I couldn't let go. She put a disk in the DVD player, and set a plastic step in front of me. I could barely stand upright! How was I going to exercise for the crazy bitch?

The women on the screen started doing their thing, and I felt a smack in my ass as my blackmailer yelled out "Get going bimbo!"

I mimicked the actions on the screen as best as I could. My ass felt like jelly as soon as I started to move. I could feel the cotton rolls working their way all throughout my bowels as I bent over, straightened up, lifted my legs and pumped my weighted hands under the control of this damned DVD. This wasn't intended as a torture DVD!

Then my rectum cramped up. It was as if it was trying valiantly to expel the cotton rolls she has stuffed in there, but the rolls had nowhere to go. So it was as if they clenched on a solid mass. As my body was wracked with cramps, I collapsed and shook. I gripped the weights tightly in the ball of tape for what reason I don't know. Biting down on the gag and whimpering was equally ineffectual in stopping the cramps. They hurt so bad! She just chucked, apparently amused. Was it due to the way it made my boobs shake? That it showed I was helpless? Or was that my own body was torturing itself? After the cramps subsided enough and my panting had returned to resembling normal, I stood up, and looked at her. She glared at me, and pulled out one of the strings still tied to the rubber bands around my boobs. I watched helplessly as it went further out. She smiled as she let it go, snapping hard into my boob. My squeal was swallowed by my gag, and I tried to return to the aerobics. After but 30 seconds, the cramps ravaged my body again. She watched me double over and fall to the floor, clearly amused, even turning off the DVD to watch me. My body quivered as my ass pulsed in failed attempts to get the cotton roll plug out of my gut. My hands clenched. My body shook, and I looked up at her pleadingly.

She seemed amused, but glanced at her watch. OK. Fun time is over. We need to get you to your bus.

I squealed as she started to peel off the tape to release me. She smiled, clearly enjoying my pain. "You did well for a dumb bimbo. To answer your question, you may call me Miss Louise."

Chapter 6 – coming home – Monday January 2nd

I rode back toward Master's house in the taxi, reminiscing on the week and a half I spent with my friends and family. It seemed that most of my family ignored me. My sister Mary was at least interested that I was back for a visit, but everyone else barely noticed I was around.

it sure wasn't the same as before I left for Master's house for me. The people were the same, but the tongue crib was like a slave collar installed by Master. It was not removable, and it garbled what I said. This lead to some embarrassing situations with my friends Debbie and Sue, people I've known for decades.

Debbie seemed so amused by my gag, smiling when I particularly struggled to be understood. She made me call for the pizza delivery for "practice", but I think it was more for her amusement. Sue was a lot more concerned, asking how I was and how I felt. Each was its own form of humiliation.

I had developed a love/hate relationship with the tongue crib. I wanted to be able to speak clearly with my friends. But every time that I couldn't, I enjoyed the helpless submissive feeling that came over me. Master determined that I should be forced to wear it, and so it wasn't coming off. Somehow it felt right not to have the choice, to be unable to cheat and take it off "just for a few hours". I treasured Master's ownership, and this tongue crib was a symbol of that. I wondered – am I changing, or am I finding out who I have been all along after 28 years of not knowing?

As Master's house came into view through the taxi window, I reminisced that I had been kicked out of a few places in my life, but it turned out for the best. While I had no alternative place to live, and the rules would seem draconian to an outsider, I was so happy and grateful to have a welcoming home. It felt good to be back.

I strode into the house, and closed the door with the finality of the trip is over; I'm home. I started to shed my clothes to comply with the house rule – my nipples must be visible when off of the ivy patterns on the floor. As I got down to my nipple-less bra and a pair of panties, I looked down at my nipples. I had them pierced years ago, but never got any nice jewelry for them. Perhaps in due time, Master and I should go shopping for some.

Master walked down the stairs, carrying a box with bright green wrapping paper and festooned with a big festive red bow. He smiled at me. "Oh Tits! I missed you. I knew you would be back. I got you a gift."

I looked at him, startled a bit. "I thith'nh eveh cohthithr thayihg away Matheh. You loth me, ath welcomeh me itho your home. Youh tho gooh tho me." (I didn't even consider staying away Master. You love me, and welcomed me into your home. You're so good to me." I gratefully took the gift. I was both overwhelmed by his generosity, and a bit sheepish that I had no way to reciprocate; I couldn't afford anything that would be up to his high standards.

The box was a cube, maybe 50 cm on a side, and it had a heft to it. It sure wasn't a box of chocolates. I unwrapped the box, and picked up the odd Y-shaped piece of metallic art, turning it around to look at it. Two of the ends were curved in towards each other.

After a few moments of turning it over, it dawned on me that I was holding a real life chastity belt! My eyes bugged wide and I just stared at it in amazement. The truth sank in. I now owned a chastity belt. And it looked just my size. I was dumbfounded. "I thever wouh cheah oh you Matheh." (I would never cheat on you Master)

He smiled. "Oh, it is for so many things. It makes sure you rely on me for riding the symbian vibrator that you enjoy so much. It shows others that you are submitting to someone else. And it also protects you in case others get too turned on by you and want to take things further than they should."

I turned it over in my hands. The lock looked like the ones you see on vending machines – some funky round key would be needed to open it. From there, a contoured panel draped down, perforated like a cheese grater in the right spot. The crotch panel continued up to a very generous anal opening, like a giant donut around my ass. It kind of looked like a target, but I kept my mouth shut about that.

The waist band was somewhat serpentine to flow over my hips in each direction. Each edge was covered in a black rubber. I noticed an odd snap fitting on each hip. Doubtless they had a purpose that would be shown to me when the time was right. The waist band continued to meet the crotch strap in back.

At the back of the belt, a clear panel with a slot in it dangled out in space, attached with a hinge. I swung the hinge down, and it covered the anal opening. I looked at Master in alarm "Lou're goihg tho lock my ath?? I goth to poop Matheh!" (You're going to lock my ass? I got to poop Master!)