Mail-Order Sweets Pt. 01

The bonds are comfortable, as is the satin lining cushioning the space between her skin and the inside walls of the wooden box. If she stretches herself out she can touch one panel of the box with her head and brace against the other with her toes, but if she stays relaxed she's got enough space. Thankfully, she has a lot of wiggle room to her sides. For a few minutes during transit she amuses herself by rolling back and forth and feeling the satin slide against her skin.

She's a little antsy from having been in the box, in the dark, for so long. Actually, she's not sure if it's the box that's letting no light in or the fact that she's wearing a blindfold. So far she's only been able to tell her location by the faint rumbling of a truck surrounding her and the occasional jostle at a bump in the road. She's not hungry or thirsty; whatever drugs they poured down her throat beforehand made sure of that. Can't have a box-girl arrive at a destination delirious from dehydration--that would ruin the company's reputation.

It's a palpable relief when she feels the truck stop, hears someone open the back. The box is being lifted, carried, probably by at least two people. Then a thunk as the box is placed on the ground. The distant ring of a doorbell?

...door opening. Muffled, unintelligible conversation. Then the box is lifted again, carried, set down.

She waits. There really isn't anything else she can do, after all. She's... scared? Maybe a little? It's not like she didn't know what she was signing up for, but then again, her feelings on this whole matter are... complicated. Her heartbeat hiccups from time to time, and she really hopes she isn't staining the box's lining with sweat. She gnaws lightly on the ballgag between her teeth. She tries to arrange herself in the box as best she can, at least in a way that looks somewhat organized; she ends up on her side, her bound wrists held in front of her, curled up slightly like she's taking a nap. Hopefully her underwear isn't too rumpled.

The lid of the box opens. She can tell by the noise, she can tell by the shift in atmosphere, and, most of all, she can tell by the loud, feminine squeal of "Oh my god!"

"Isn't she cute?" another voice asks, one with a deeper, huskier undertone. It sends shivers down the box-girl's spine. "I knew you'd love her, she's exactly your type."

"Liar," another voice accuses playfully. "She's your type, Reya. You're just using Candy's birthday as an excuse to buy something off your wishlist, again."

"What can I say?" Reya chuckles, not bothering to deny the accusation. "I do love to treat myself."

"Is--is she asleep?" Candy whispers. "I can't tell with that blindfold. Do you think she might be startled if we--"

The box-girl shifts a little, turning her head towards the source of Candy's voice. Candy gasps.

"Oh! She heard me!"

Reya tsks. "Of course she heard you, you're ridiculously loud. Isn't that right, Honey?"

At the sound of her assigned name, the box-girl perks up. She swallows and shifts her legs minutely, making the pink leather cuffs around her ankles jingle.

"Come on, let's get her out of this box and try her out," the third, yet unnamed voice says. A gently calloused hand lands on Honey's shoulder, sending a shivering jolt throughout her entire body. Is she really that sensitive? Or is it just because she's been in the box for so long? She whimpers--in response, Candy immediately croons, "Aww she's so cute!"

More hands slide over Honey's skin, her shoulders, her waist, her legs. Honey tries to arch into every single touch at once. Then she's lifted up into the arms of one person who carries her bridal style, letting her curl into their shoulder and chest. Whoever it is, she smells wonderful. Like jasmine oil. Honey would say so, if her lips weren't currently wrapped around a sizable ballgag.

She's laid down on a bed with her arms up over her head, completely exposed save for the bits covered by her skimpy lingerie. The mattress dips and creaks as all three other women hop on.

"You go first, Candy," the unnamed one says. "It's your special day, after all."

"Oh my god. I don't know where to start." The mattress to both sides of Honey dips as Candy gets on all fours above her. Honey can feel her looming presence--can smell a different scent, one of strawberry shampoo.

"Why don't you find out how she tastes?" Reya suggests, then promptly oophs as someone, presumably the woman whose name Honey doesn't know yet, elbows her in the side.

"Yeah," Candy breathes. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Candy lowers herself onto Honey, straddling her hips and lower stomach. She's wearing jeans; the scratchy fabric, the warm weight of the body under that, Honey feels it all. A hand, small and soft and delicate, brushes up the side of her neck, taking with it stray strands of silky hair. The tender contact sparks bliss against Honey's goosebumped skin. Then Candy cups Honey's jaw and licks up the side of her face.

Oh my god. Candy has a tongue piercing.

Honey makes a strangled noise, squirming. The warm, wet surface of Candy's tongue, interrupted by the hard steel of a barbell, sends little lightning bolts of pleasure skittering down her spine and between her legs. She clenches her thighs together without thinking, and her ankle cuffs chafe against her oversensitive skin.

As Candy licks a trail down the line of Honey's jaw, Honey hears the other two women speaking in the background.

"How long did you rent her out for?"

"Twenty-four hours."

"Holy shit. How much did that cost?"

"Let's just say she racks up a few more zeroes than your average prostitute. She was also one of the most expensive on the catalog."

"Really? Why?"

"Because she's new."

Candy's lips still where they've been sucking a mark onto the underside of Honey's jaw. "Wait," she says, as Honey whimpers sadly at the loss of sensation, "you mean we're the first ones to--"

"Yup." Honey can hear the smug grin in Reya's voice. "We're popping her box-girl cherry."

Candy's excited squeal nearly shatters Honey's eardrums. "This is the best birthday present ever!" Candy swoops down and plants a loud, wet kiss on the tip of Honey's nose. "Reya, you're my favorite roommate!"

"Hey!" the other woman calls. "I'm a good roommate too!"

"Uh, no offense Jin. But today's my birthday, and you got me a book."

"It's a good book!"

"But Reya got me a brand-spanking-new box-girl. So..."

Jin huffs in defeat. "Okay fine, you got me there."

There's the muffled sound of Reya patting Jin's shoulder. "It's alright, sweetheart. It's not your fault I'm hotter and richer and more fun than you."

Candy loudly shushes them both. "I'm trying to enjoy my present over here!" Jin mutters a sincere apology while Reya just laughs.

Candy nips at Honey's collarbone, drawing out little cries every time her teeth close over the fragile skin. She presses her palm just below the newly-made pink indents, scratches in a red spot with her thumb.

Honey's breath quickens as she feels Candy fingering the pale yellow lace of her bra. Candy pinches it just below Honey's right breast, getting a little skin in the process and making the box-girl squeak out loud; the squeak becomes a gasp as Candy draws the flimsy fabric up Honey's chest and exposes one taut nipple to the cool air.

"Oh come on," Reya interrupts, "This is duller than Skinemax. Why don't you--" The rest of her sentence is cut off by the sound of a hand slapping over her mouth.

Candy cups the box-girl's breast and squeezes--it fits perfectly in her dainty hand. Honey breathes hard, trembling. Then Candy pinches Honey's nipple between two fingers and pulls.

Honey arches up, crying out around the gag, her entire body going rigid. She scrabbles for a hold on the sheets above her head, then keens even louder as Candy tightens her grip and twists. Honey can feel the hot pinpricks of tears forming at the corners of her eyes and staining her blindfold. There's a muffled cheer from the sidelines, probably from Reya.

And then Candy lets go. The sudden relief is as sharp as the pain, and Honey's head spins as she tries to recover from it. Candy doesn't give her the chance; she twists and tugs and rolls her abused nipple between her fingers, making the box-girl moan and squirm helplessly as her frayed nerves are overwhelmed.

Then Candy moves onto Honey's other breast, flipping up the other side of her bra to uncover her completely. Her nipple is already hard, pulled tight and straining to be touched. Candy flicks it once with a finger, and then Honey feels a definite shift in weight as the birthday girl leans down to breathe hot, humid air against the sensitive little bud. Honey's eyelids flutter under the blindfold. She waits for the warm, wet stroke of Candy's tongue, the catch of her metal stud--

--she screams out loud as Candy clamps her teeth down on her breast, creating twin crescents of searing pain to frame her areola. Honey thrashes, kicking her heels against the mattress, her arms shaking with the effort of keeping them out of the way.

"Hang on, I've got her."

A hand lands on top of Honey's wrists, pinning them securely to the mattress; Honey relaxes, just for a moment, grateful to have been relieved of the responsibility. Then Candy breathes hot, wet air against Honey's neglected nipple and swipes it once with the tip of her tongue. Honey chokes on her own breath. Her clit tingles--she tries to rise up against Candy's body for friction, but it's Candy who moans and grinds down her hips without relinquishing the hold of her teeth. The sadistic birthday girl grinds for just a little longer, and with her next sigh of pleasure she opens her mouth to let go of Honey's breast.

Honey sobs once, feeling tears leak from her soaked blindfold to trickle down her temples. Candy soothes her, whispering softly, passing a palm over Honey's damp forehead as she nuzzles into the box-girl's neck.

"You like it when I hurt you, Honey?" Candy murmurs into her skin. Honey moans back enthusiastically, hoping Candy will hear her clear affirmative past the gag.

Candy seems to understand; she opens her mouth and idly bites down on the side of Honey's neck. Honey barely makes a noise this time, just shudders all the way from her pinned wrists to her curled toes. Instead of holding onto one place Candy works her way down Honey's throat, almost chewing, making the helpless box-girl tense every time her teeth close around a new patch of skin.

By the time Candy sits up to examine her work, Honey's head is lolling and she's breathing in short, harsh gasps. She can feel the throb of bruises blossoming over one side of her neck and one breast. She barely even notices the weight over her wrists disappearing, nor the ribbons keeping her top together being unraveled and swept off her skin.

"Roll over, Honey," Candy's voice commands, and a hand slaps her thigh. Honey jumps at the sudden sting, scrambles to obey--then gets a foot tangled up in the chain between her ankles. There's a brief burst of laughter from the three other women and severely mortified blushing on Honey's part, until a helpful set of hands removes the pesky ankle cuffs. More hands reposition her legs, raise her hips, and push down her back so that she's face-down on the bed with her ass in the air and her knees at right angles. She's fully aware of how vulnerable this position makes her; the only barrier between her pussy and the open air is a soaked pair of lacy panties.

"Oh, hello there," Jin says. "She's really enjoying herself, isn't she?"

Even more heat rushes to Honey's face. She chokes back a whine and presses her burning cheek against a pillow, hoping nobody's noticed.

Reya laughs out loud. "She has no discipline, really. I could train that out of her in a day." Honey shivers, a fresh pulse of wetness leaking from her drenched pussy. Reya gives another deep chuckle. "Oh that got to you, didn't it?"

The tip of a blunt nail grazes up against the damp spot of Honey's panties, stroking her from clit to entrance. Honey squeaks and starts, then groans into her pillow, bucking her hips for more contact--

SMACK!

--and suddenly her ass is on fire, her left cheek burning up in the perfect imprint of a hand. As she yelps she hears a wicked laugh, a delighted giggle, and a hefty sigh.

"You just couldn't resist, could you?" Jin says. "It's not a proper punishment if she doesn't know what she did wrong."

"She didn't do anything wrong, I just wanted to spank her."

"Ooh, let's spank her! I'll get a paddle!"

The bed bounces as Candy dashes off. Immediately there are hands on Honey's ass--not small ones like Candy's or calloused ones like Jin's--long, elegant hands with surprisingly strength in their cruel grip. They spread her cheeks apart, and Honey whimpers at the feeling of her wet lips parting under her panties.

"You're groping Candy's birthday present," Jin accuses.

"Yes darling, I know what I'm doing, I don't need narration." Reya digs her nails into Honey's flesh; the poor box-girl trembles at the pain.

"You keep doing that, I'll take the paddle Candy's bringing and bend you over my knee instead."

"Mmm, you think you can break me?"

"I know I can break you. I've done it plenty of times before, haven't I?"

Right on cue, Candy's voice rings out from beyond the walls of the room.

"Reya? Where did you leave the pink paddle?"

"By the kitchen sink, dear!" Reya calls back. She releases her hold on Honey's ass, and the box-girl sighs in relief.

"Found it!"

There's a thumpthumpthump of excited footsteps, and then Candy is back in the room. When she throws her weight onto the bed, Honey nearly topples over; thankfully, Jin catches her. "Woops! Sorry Honey!"

As Jin readjusts Honey's balance, there's a quiet pause.

...SMACK!

The impact of Candy's smaller hand on Honey's right cheek is less powerful than Reya's, but stings closer to the surface. Honey moans pitifully into the pillows.

"There," Candy says proudly. "Now her ass is symmetrical."

"You didn't mind asymmetry when you were only bruising one of her tits," Reya points out.

"I know, I'll fix that later. But first..."

The cool surface of a wooden paddle alights on Honey's ass. As Candy rubs it against her skin in wide circles, Honey can feel patterns in the wood. Are they engravings? Holes?

"How many hearts do you think I can get on her?" Candy giggles.

Hearts. They're heart-shaped holes, carved into the paddle's length so that every strike leaves a pretty imprint. Honey blushes at the thought--then shuffles her knees, raising her ass higher and bumping back against the paddle.

"Well, I don't know how many you can get on her," Jin says, "But I think she wants as many as possible." Honey confirms the statement with an eager wiggle.

"Alright," Candy laughs, "I'm going to give her ten swats. When I'm done, we count the hearts." The paddle leaves Honey's skin. A hand bunches up the back of Honey's panties, pulling the fabric taut against her clit and making her gasp. The lacy fabric is fitted snugly between her buttocks, brushing against her sensitive asshole and baring more skin to be defiled. "Starting... now."

CRACK!

Honey screams. The blow rocks her entire body forward, at least until a pair of hands immobilizes her waist and another shoves her head back into the pillows. The paddle is heavier than she thought it would be, and apparently the heart-shaped holes are fantastic for decreasing air resistance and creating a wickedly fast swing. Whistling air is the only warning she has before the next blow strikes.

CRACK!

Honey jerks, crying out, and the hands keeping her still tighten in warning. The fleshiest part of her ass is roaring with pain, skin stinging like it's being tattooed with a million red-hot needles at once.

CRACK! CRACK!

The box-girl's blood boils under the surface of her skin. The pillow under her cheek is soaked, and she wets it further with tears and drool. She convulses with a sob and a calloused hand pets her hair, soothing her.

CRACK! CRACK!

Honey's skin is damp and sticky with sweat, which makes the paddle stick a little to her skin when it hits her. The extra bit of friction makes her raw, overheating skin just that much more tender. Even the whoosh of air before the paddle hits her feels like an overstimulating caress.

CRACK! CRACK! ...CRACK!

The last blow especially hurts; Candy aimed it at the soft, vulnerable seat where Honey's ass meets her thighs. Honey chokes for a moment, but then a heavy hand rubs in comforting circles over her upper back. Her voice finally escapes as a pained, desperate wail.

"Don't worry baby," Candy coos over the noise, "Just one more."

CRACK!

Honey collapses onto her side, and the other women let her. She shakes, hiccuping and sniffling, as her ass burns and burns and burns.

"Huh. Think I should have started with love taps?"

"...Maybe," Jin admits.

"Honey doesn't think so," Reya interjects. Honey feels a soft fingertip against the lining of her underwear, drawing up sticky moisture--and she realizes with a start that she has thoroughly, thoroughly ruined her pretty lace panties. She holds her breath, hyperaware of her own cum dripping in slow rivulets down her thigh as though she weren't wearing any underwear at all.

A still, loaded silence. Then Reya says, "Her panties are mostly see-through anyway, we might as well take them off."

No one argues with her. Deft fingers feel for the ribbons that keep Honey's panties together; the one at her raised hip is quickly found and tugged loose. A hand wedges between Honey's other hip and the mattress, groping in the tight space for the other ribbon and accidentally scratching the box-girl in the process. Honey's squeak of complaint is answered with a murmured apology; then the ribbon is found and promptly undone. Honey's panties brush against her wet, swollen lips just slightly as they're removed, just before they're discarded to join her missing bra.

A whine escapes the naked girl's throat. Candy gasps quietly, and Reya purrs with voyeuristic pleasure. Candy's small hand presses up against the back of Honey's thigh--the contact is electric, quickening Honey's breaths to pants, reviving the tremble in her limbs. Candy thumbs open the box-girl's puffy, aching labia, revealing her dripping entrance.

"God, just look at her, she's gushing," Candy whispers.

Honey sobs quietly. She wants to be fucked so badly it hurts.

"Ahem. We still haven't counted the hearts," Reya says.

"Oh, right! Jin, help me get her back up...."

Honey groans as she's rolled onto her stomach, then propped up on her knees. She's half-inclined to resist the rough handling, to just flop limply down to the mattress like a petulant brat. But she's a good girl, a box-girl. Box-girls do what they're told. Besides, she likes her new mistresses, and she doesn't want to disappoint them.

"One, two, three, four... wait, that's another one, five..."

Candy, Reya, and Jin each get different numbers, and then engage in a lively debate to determine which one is right. They agree that if two hearts overlap too much they count as one, but the triple-heart on Honey's left cheek definitely counts as three, just because it's so cute. Candy tries to argue that the unfinished imprints towards Honey's hips count for half a heart each, but Jin and Reya both rule that out. Reya claims that two of the hearts Jin and Candy tallied are too deformed by bruising to count, but it turns out she's only saying that so she has an excuse to press her fingers into the burst blood vessels and make the box-girl squeal.