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Tits is a slave. She's a slave because she was taken by a man as she walked home from class one day. She was taken because she had massive tits that begged to be abused and ejaculated onto.
Tits was currently hanging by her namesake in the middle of a cold grey dungeon in a basement somewhere in the midwestern United States. For the past year, her breasts had received more abuse, torture, and whippings than any girl who had probably ever lived. Each of the past 365 days had been a different punishment for her unfortunate mounds. Each of these punishments had been written on a sick calendar her kidnapper had shown her on the day she was taken. Each passing day, he would remove a sticker from the current day, and show her what they day held for her mistreated milk jugs.
Today was day 365. The sticker was peeled back to reveal "the greatest hits." Tits was confused but her owner had explained that they were going to be recreating all of the punishments and torments that had made her scream the most (and subsequently, had made him cum the hardest). They had started the day early, at 5 AM. By noon they had already finished the piercings, electrocution, cattle proddings, paddling, nettling, and bullwhipping. Now, after a quick lunch break (for him, a sandwich; for her, semen with a warm glass of piss), he had strung her up by her tits and prepared for a recreation of day 143.
She remembered that day well, as it was one of the worst. He had tied her tits and lifted her into the air by them. Her feet dangled off the ground as he spun her around and with a whip laid strike after strike on her bound yams. Occasionally, he would miss and hit her face, or stomach, which he found unfortunate. He loved to keep his slave completely unmarked and pristine, save for her much-abused globes. He found it quite the spectacle that her alabaster white body was completely unmarked, save for the purple, bruised, marked, and constantly-in-pain tits.
Tits had a hood over her head, protecting her precious cherub face from the lashings. Screams erupted from the thrashing girl as her owner spent the next 3 hours whipping her painglobes, taking breaks in between to let her down so her bound up tits were at cock level, and ejaculate onto them. Once his balls were empty, up the hooded girl went again. After his arm got tired, he decided enough was enough. He let the girl down and removed the hood. Her face was a mess of tears and snot. He rubbed her face gently and patted her head.
"Oh my precious Tits, don't you regret growing your breasts to such a size? Look how much pain they've had to endure because of your selfish choice."
The worthless object attached to the magnificent-large pair of breasts pathetically replied: "Yes, sir. This worthless cunt is sorry. This cunt's tits deserve pain at all times. Please give them more sir."
A response any less degrading would have meant the next 3 day's punishments were each doubled in duration and intensity. This had only happened a handful of times during her slavery, and by now she knew to say exactly what her cruel owner wanted.
"You'll now get a 30 minute break. I'll put you in your cell and you can eat your gruel, shower, and use the toilet if you need. When I return in 30, make sure you've assumed the position."
After throwing her in the cell her owner had built for her, he walked upstairs to the land of normal people with normal hobbies. Up there, her owner also became normal. Having normal sex with his normal wife, taking his normal daughter to soccer practice. His family and friends knew nothing of the depravities below. He remembered his wife scoffed at the idea of even something as mild as handcuffs in the bedroom. Later that night, he brought those same handcuffs down and used them to secured Tits’ breasts into a horrible vice grip, before whipping her nipples for an hour straight.
Tits' cell was quite large - at least for a slave. It had a bathroom built in which contained a glass-paned shower, as well as a toilet, sink, and vanity. Her bed was twin-sized with time-locked restraints for her ankles and wrists - but her owner was gracious enough to provide a pillow and blanket for her. Each morning the time lock would go off at 6 AM, and Tits would shower, doll herself up, drink vitamin-infused gruel from her feeder tubes, and dress up in heels and a sexy topless (her tits were never allowed covering) lingerie which her owner had chosen the night before. She then "assumed the position" - tongue out, hands twisting her nipples slightly, on her knees, legs apread apart. Often, her owner wouldn't arrive until 7 or 8 PM. By then she had been in position for almost 12 hours. A video camera ensured she dared not disobey this order.
Tits was 19 years old. Her last birthday was 2 months ago. Her owner had dripped birthday candle wax onto her magnificent globes before beating it off with a wooden cane. He then forced to hold an even larger birthday candle between her burned boobs for hours - while it melted down onto her helpless meat sacks.
Tits had been raped vaginally and anally a few times - but she could always tell it wasn't her owner's main intention with her. He much more preferred ejactulating directly onto her mountainous globes after a good torture session. His main fascination was with her breasts. It seemed he cared less about the “person” they were attached to. He often spoke directly to her tits, chastising them for being too large before slashing them with a whip or cane. Secretly her owner loved how comically large her mammaries were, which is why he took her. But of course, he didn’t want Tits to feel proud or good about herself in any way. Her constant humiliation and degradation was a necessary part of her status as a sex slave.
Although Tits had quite a beautiful face, her owner made her spend most days with a latex hood on. It was part of the dehumanization process. He would frequently using a vacuum bed to encase her entire body, save for her wonderful tits and a small breathing hole in her mouth. He would then spend the evening inflicting torment after torment on the jiggling breastflesh.
Her owner was careful to allow the bountiful breasts a rest every once in a while. Permanent damage was not his goal – as he wanted a pair of globes that would last many more years. Once they got too saggy or damaged, he would have to kill the cunt they were attached to and find another – which is a hassle he wants to avoid. So, to make sure they were in tip-top (or should I say “tit-top”) shape, he would intersperse physically scarring tortures (like canings, needling, burning, and whippings) with sessions involving electricity, milking, titty-fucking, among other perverted scenarios.
Tits was never allowed to experience pleasure under his care. She had orgasmed twice in the past year, once during vaginal sex and once during a secretly recorded masturbation session in the shower she thought he couldn’t see. Both times, her pillow and bedsheets were removed for a week and her precious clit was harshly clamped for the night.
Back to the present, her owner walked back into the dungeon 30 minutes later to find his slave tongue out, kneeling in position at her cell door.
Through the bars, he placed his semi-erect member on her outstuck tongue. After slowly fucking her mouth, he withdrew his now erect member and opened the cell door.
Tits crawled out, her swinging tits so large that her nipples scraped the concrete while she crawled. A fact her owner found incredibly amusing. He attached a leash to her dog collar and led the poor abused teenager to a vice grip device. It had manacles on the side to trap her hands, and her tits fit between two steel bars which would squash them harshly.
As her master led her to the device and Tits laid eyes upon it, she began to cry.
“Shut up you worthless cunt. This is what Tits deserves” He said, referring to her breasts as if they were a person. “If they didn’t want to be punished they should’ve have grown so damn large!” He exclaimed, smacking her ass harshly as he yelled at that innocent girl.
Tits didn’t understand her master’s logic. She didn’t control how big her breasts grew. And even if she did, why would that mean they deserve torture? She had to wrestle with these pointless logical questions as there wasn’t much else to think about down in this dungeon of horrors.
After her owner got her tits nice and vice-gripped. He proceeded to spend the next 6 hours carrying out all forms of torment on the pathetic sacks of pain flesh. Nipple canings, bull whipping, hornet stings on her nipples. Her breast flesh was a tenderized mess by the end of it, if it wasn’t before they had started. Tits’ beautiful face was a mask of pain.
Her owner removed the crushing vice from her tits, but didn’t undo the manacles holding the sobbing girl’s wrists in place. He attached two tight vice clamps to her nipples and tied them together with wire, holding her breasts together at the nipples. After wetting his erect cock with her mouth, he ordered Tits to continually drool on his cock while he fucked the bound titties. Within minutes, the friction against her smooth tits made his cock explode. He delivered slap after slap to the poor slave’s face as his jizz shot onto her face and dripped down back onto her namesake.
Her cruel master patted her on the head before going to retrieve something. When he returned he showed his manacled slave what he had brought for her.
He bent over, speaking directly to her bruised, welted, and cum-covered tits.
“Look at this Tits, it’s another calendar for your next year with me. Starting tomorrow, I have a whole new set of punishments for you. And this time they won’t be so nice.”
As Tits cried, her owner walked out of the dungeon. He needed to pick up his daughter from school, but after that it would be right back down to the dungeon. He wanted to get an early start on the new year with his miserable teenage toy.
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