Tati's Titty Torture

Tatiana reached to open the door to her private dorm room, then stopped, confused. Her bra was hanging from the doorknob. A note was pinned to it. The note read:

“Returning your missing bra. I washed it for you.”

There was nothing to indicate who it was from. Tatiana grabbed the bra. At least she had it back - this was her favorite bra, too, the most supportive and comfortable, as well as cute. She wondered what had happened to it. She could have sworn it was in her room, but one day she couldn’t find it. Oh well. In her room, she tossed it onto the dresser, grabbed her backpack, and went to her next class.

The next day, as she was getting dressed, she grabbed her bra from the dresser. Hm. She probably should wash it. She didn’t know where it had been. But the note had said it had been washed, and she was concerned about being late for class. She held it up to her nose and sniffed. It smelled clean. There was some kind of unusual scent she couldn’t quite place, some unfamiliar floral scent. Must have been from the soap her mysterious benefactor used. She put it on, threw on a hoodie and jeans, and rushed out the door to start her day.

Tatiana was in her second class of the day when she felt something odd. She found it hard to focus. She kept being distracted. Her stiff nipples were digging into her bra so fiercely she almost felt like they could cut completely through it. When her professor was writing on the whiteboard, she kept imagining how his large hands would feel squeezing her breasts tightly. And that cheerleader in the second row - those pretty, cherry red lips should be locked around her nipple, sucking.

God, why was she so horny today?

The rest of the day was much the same, if not worse. Tatiana was unusually horny all day, for no reason. Her breasts were aching to be touched. Once, sitting in the library, Tatiana found herself caressing her breast through her hoodie. She stopped herself immediately, blushing. She couldn’t do that, not in public!

Her final class of the day was the worst. She kept squirming and rubbing her thighs together. She couldn’t remember a single thing the professor said. She couldn’t think about anything except how desperate her poor breasts were for stimulation - the more intense the better. God! She couldn’t wait until she could get back to her room and work herself over with the aroused desperation that had been building for the entire day.

But when she got to her dorm room, something was hanging from the doorknob. A small bag. A folded note was pinned to the top. She opened the note and read:

* * *
I know what you need, Tatiana. I know what your tits need. They are desperate for attention. They require intense stimulation - the rougher the better. But not to worry. I know just what to do. It’s time to torture your slut tits. You will do this every day. Your breasts deserve to be tortured. And you need to be reminded of your place, each and every day.

Every day, you are going to roll a die. A standard six-sided die from a board game. This will determine how you will torture your tits.

If it’s a 1, you will slap your breasts, over and over with firm blows, alternating breasts.

If it’s a 2, you will put nipple clamps or clothespins on your nipples

If it’s a 3, you will tie your breasts as tight as you can, or put them between two rods that are bound together. They should be painfully crushed, sticking out and turning red.

If it’s a 4, you will fondle and squeeze your breasts, as you imagine other people playing with them roughly while you are bound and gagged.

If it’s a 5, you will rub ice cubes over your breasts.

If it’s a 6, you will drop hot wax from a candle on your breasts.

Torture your tits. Remember that they deserve it. You deserve it. All day, every day, remember that you are a horny submissive slut.
* * *

Tatiana experienced an intense mix of surprise, anger, embarrassment, fear and - she was ashamed to say - arousal.

How did someone know what she was experiencing? Who knew where she slept and what her schedule was? How could they leave such a perverted note right here, where anyone could see it?

And why was she so intrigued by what the note told her to do?

She reached up and squeezed one of her breasts tightly. She let out a soft moan. It was only because she was so stupid horny. As soon as she could release some of the pressure, clear her head, she would see things differently.

She looked in the bag. She saw a little black and white game die, candles, matches, ropes and nipple clamps. She blushed bright red. Anyone could have found this! What if her floor mates had peeked in the bag and seen these perverted things on HER doorknob? She immediately closed the bag again and opened the door to her room. She needed to get rid of these. Or hide them. Or something.

She shut the door behind her and tossed her backpack onto the bed. She was going to get rid of all this perverted stuff.

Just as soon as she worked off some of her frustrations.

She yanked off her hoodie. Her jeans followed, and then the bra, leaving her in just her panties. She massaged her breasts, squeezing, groping. They were far more sensitive than they had ever been before. Touching them felt really, really good. She pinched her nipples and tugged on them, moaning. She didn’t usually do that, but it just felt right today. It must be because she had been so horny for so long. Yeah, that was it. Just a random thing that would only affect her today and never again.

She glanced over at the bag again. Pinching her nipples felt really good…

…no, that was weird and perverted, and she didn’t even know who had left them.

She slapped her left breast. Softly at first, then more firmly. She’d never done that before, but it felt… right. The intense sensation felt really nice on her needy tits.

Well… nobody would know… it wouldn’t hurt to try something new, right?

Tati almost reached for the nipple clamps. Then she shrugged and grabbed the game die instead. She rolled it on the ground.

6. She looked at the note. Candle wax? That was so weird. She wasn’t going to do that! She would just get her vibrator and play with herself.

What would it feel like?

Besides, candles would set the mood, wouldn’t they?

She deliberated thoughtfully, kneading and squeezing her breasts.

What the heck. You only live once.

She lit a candle. While waiting for it to warm up, she got her little vibrator from her dresser drawer and put it inside herself. She was already so wet, and she hadn’t even done anything today! She was just extra needy today. She turned it on. Yesss. That was good. But she needed more.

She picked up the candle, held it above her chest, and slowly tipped it. A fat drop splashed down on her breast. Ouch! Tati bit back a squeal. That was a little more than she expected. She tried a less steep angle, aiming for a smaller drop on her other breast. Ooh. That was interesting.

With some experimenting, Tatiana learned that the intensity of the sensation depended greatly on how high she held the candle - on how far it fell before it landed on her soft breasts. The first few drops were quite intense and part of her wanted to stop. But as she kept going it felt… nice… really nice. Intense. Spicy. Like the inverse of a cool gentle rain landing on her.

Now if only her large-handed professor was the one dripping wax on her tits. That would feel really nice.

She turned the vibrator up and rubbed her clit with one hand, carefully holding the candle with her other to drip the wax. She got to her first orgasm quickly, clapping her hand over her mouth to try to keep from being overheard. The walls were too thin here.

Then she kept going.

Two more orgasms later, Tatiana finally turned off the vibrator. She felt like she could keep going, but that had at least taken the edge off - and she needed to clean the wax off her breasts.

Over the following days, Tatiana continued to struggle with her new sexual appetite. She managed to focus in classes, especially when she made sure to torture her breasts before going anywhere else. The needy things were always greedy for attention. The slightest touch, even clothes brushing over them, made them hungry for intensity. Eventually she realized that the days she wore her favorite bra were the days she was the most helplessly aroused. She wondered exactly what had happened to them, and what substance had really given it that mysterious scent. What sort of chemical could have been applied to them so it would rub off on her skin? She could stop wearing the bra. Maybe the effect would wear off over time. She would no longer be so extremely aroused and sensitive all the time.

She didn’t want to stop. She wore the bra every day she could. Her delicious, naughty secret.

Then one day she went back to her dorm room to find a note slipped under the door. She read it. It was longer than either of the previous ones.

* * *

I hope you’ve been enjoying the new you, naughty Tati. I know I have. I can tell how aroused and frustrated you are every day. I’m glad you’ve been enjoying your daily tit torture. Now it’s time to give you a new task.

Strip naked, girl. You will be completely nude for me.

You are going to kneel. Back straight. Knees apart. Wrists behind your back. Head up. Eyes lowered. You’re going to be a good submissive little slut today. You will say “this girl is a good submissive little slut”. Say it out loud. Five times.

Then roll the die and torture your tits - while kneeling.

You were born to serve. Your greatest pleasure in life is to serve and please. You must obey. You long to obey. You need to obey. You are addicted to being an obedient plaything, and you will do as you are told.

Keep torturing those slut udders every day. They are what mark you as a woman. This is what it means to be a female. To be naked and kneeling, doing wicked, perverse things to your breasts just because a man is telling you to. It feels so good. It makes you feel so slutty and feminine. This is your proper place.

You must always be pleasing. You will be polite and respectful to everyone. You will look for small ways to serve other people, such as doing their dishes or fetching a coffee. You will dress to please. You are decorative. You want to look nice. You want to be shown off like the good little slut you are. Wear revealing clothes, clothes that make you feel sexy, sensual and embarrassed.

You’d love to have a man’s firm hand wrapped around your neck tightly right now, wouldn’t you, slut? You love to be touched. You love to be fondled. You love to be overpowered. Think about how much you enjoy being felt up, teased, squeezed and played with like the little sex toy you are. You crave the physical touch. The stimulation. Good toys love to be played with. You are a good toy, aren’t you, girl?

All day, every day, remember that you are a horny submissive slut. Your purpose is to serve. You will have kinky, perverted fantasies every day. You will be a sexy little slut every day. You will walk like a slave slut. You will talk like a slave slut. You will do your very best to remember your duty as a woman. You will serve and please.

Once you finish this task, you may relax and stop kneeling. You’re a good girl. I like it when you’re a good girl. It’s so sexy when you are an obedient little whore, following instructions. I’m proud of you. You’re going to be a good girl all day today, right? I am pleased with your performance. Now you may go about your day. And always remember. You are a submissive little slut.

* * *

Tatiana should have been enraged. She was certainly embarrassed. But she caught herself roughly squeezing her breast through her top as she was reading the note. It was so dirty! So perverted! Good girls didn’t get horny reading things like that. She should tear it up into little pieces and forget all about it.

But what the heck… her breasts were aching to be tormented again anyway. It’s not like anyone would know what naughty things she did in her own room… even if she got the inspiration from a mysterious note.

As instructed, she stripped naked and got on her knees. It was certainly not unusual for her to be naked in private, but somehow this felt different. More embarrassing and perverted. Submissive and naughty. She looked at the note again.

Was she really going to say it?

Nobody would know whether she did or not. She could just do the rest of the note. Nobody would know that she didn’t do it.

Nobody would know if she did. “This-” she stopped, caught by an awkward cough-laugh. God, she was blushing. Why was she so embarrassed? She tried again, speaking softly, so there was no chance of her floor-mates hearing her.

“This girl is a good submissive little slut.”
“This girl is a good submissive little slut.”
“This girl is a good submissive little slut.”
“This girl is a good submissive little slut.”
“This girl is a good submissive little slut.”

Why did that make her feel so small, so soft, so… horny?

Ok. A die roll. That was easy enough. She had made sure to bring the naughty bag nearby. She rolled the die.

A 2. She had done this enough times by now to know what that meant. Nipple clamps. She took the nipple clamps in hand. She had adjusted them in the previous days to provide just the right amount of tension, so they would cause a delightful stinging sensation without being too much. She squeezed and tugged on her left nipple, then put the clamp on it, hissing softly as it tightened. She hurriedly put the other one on. She immediately wanted to take them off again, but that was part of the fun.

She read the rest of the note, cupping her breasts in her hands, squeezing them and massaging them soothingly in delightful contrast with the painful clamps. Whoever wrote this note was the most perverted person she’d ever met. He, she, or they were saying such terribly naughty, shameful things, humiliating her, teasing her!

She started rubbing her clit, using her other hand to tug on the nipple chain, God, that hurt in the most delightful of ways. It would be so much more fun if someone else had been pulling it!

She finished the note and started reading it again, rubbing her clit and pussy harder. It didn’t take long before she was shaking with orgasm, trying to hide her squeal of pleasure behind clenched teeth.

Tatiana slowly calmed down over the next few minutes. She carefully opened each nipple clamp, hissing in pain as blood and sensation rushed back to her poor tortured nipples.

What was she doing? She was getting off to the most perverted and misogynistic content by some kind of twisted secret admirer, teasing her breasts in ways she hadn’t thought of before - just to get off, just to satisfy her suddenly intense sexual appetites? Her friends would be so ashamed of her if they knew. The thought made her feel intensely embarrassed.

But yes. That was exactly what she was going to do.

In the following days, Tati paid more attention to what she wore. She started wearing miniskirts and minidresses. She favored low-cut tops. Every time someone’s eyes tracked her jiggling breasts, she wondered if they were the one secretly giving her perverted instructions. It must be someone at the campus. A student? Professor? Man? Woman? Young? Old? It could be anyone. All she knew was that they were watching her, and they had a perverted plan for her.

She tried wearing high heels around campus. It was hard to get used to, but she adjusted. It felt… really, really good to dress slutty. It felt like she was horny all the time now, in touch with her desires. She was able to cope well enough to study and get good grades, but she was aware of her arousal all day, every day. She needed attention. She needed to be used. Her breasts in particular were always eager for rough play.

Then one day it happened. She was in her dorm room when she heard a soft sound. She turned to look at the door. Another note was there. It hadn’t been there a moment ago. Her mysterious admirer, the person turning her into a titty torture slut, had just been outside. If she ran now, she could probably catch them and find out who it was. This whole game of secret identities and mysterious commands could be over. All she had to do was open that door and go into the hall this very instant.

Tatiana slowly walked to the door and bent down. She did this the way she had been practicing in recent days, bending at the waist, not the knees. If she were in public, anyone behind her could see under her little skirt and get a good view of her lacy panties.

Tatiana picked up the note, prepared to read and obey it, to find out what the next stage of her naughty, slutty journey would be.