Joshua took breakfast on the front porch with his aunt and uncle, and watched Miss Monica ride by on her morning round of exercise, moaning with pain, arousal, and humiliation.
It was the work of Dan Muggins, down at the hardware store. He came around to Miss Monica’s house each morning now, and put her on a special bike he’d fixed up. She was completely nude, of course – the town saw no call to have Miss Monica ruining perfectly good clothes with her whore-sweat – and ring-gagged, to stop her mouthing off with her slutty complaints.
The bicycle seat was fixed with two thick dildoes, that slid neatly into Miss Monica’s pussy and ass. Two long belts of elastic ran from the pedals, up Miss Monica’s back, and then over her shoulders, where they connected to tight clamps on her nipples. As Miss Monica cycled around the village, the motion worked the dildoes in and out of her dirty fuckholes – and caused the elastic to pull at her tits, lifting them up by the clamps in an alternating pattern of pain – left, right, left, right – as she cycled.
Mr Muggins had cuffed Miss Monica’s hands to the handlebars and her feet to the pedals, so if the bike stopped, she would simply fall over, unable to protect herself. She had to keep the bike in motion for a full hour, after which Mr Muggins would release her, satisfied that she had received the good constitutional exercise that a young woman of her age required.
Joshua had heard the kids down the other end of the town had acquired a paintball gun, and took pleasure in targeting Miss Monica every time she rode by. The painful red welts on her tits and the splashes of watery pink paint across her torso attested to their aim.
As she passed the house of Joshua’s aunt and uncle, she shuddered visibly, and moaned, and almost fell off the bike.
“Look at her!” said Joshua’s aunt, disgusted. “Cumming from abuse, right here in public. It’s disgusting!”
Joshua certainly was looking at her. “Aren’t you worried that, you know, you’ll get in trouble for treating her this way?”
HIs Uncle Mort laughed. “The state constitution gives incorporated townships the right to define the terms of community service ordered for any crimes under the law. The police wrote her up a pile of traffic offences shortly after she turned up in town with those big plastic titties, and Judge Faulkner ordered that she pay them off by way of community service until the court was satisfied – which I reckon will be roughly never.”
“Disgusting,” said Aunt Pam again. “Tits like a cow. The nerve of her.”
“Town council is considering passing some new ordinances, just to be on the safe side,” said Uncle Mort. “Making it an infraction to have big cow titties, or somesuch.”
“The Wesker girls have large breasts, Mort,” said Aunt Pam. “Is the council planning on outlawing them too?”
“I don’t know,” said Mort, “but I reckon those Wesker girls *could* do with a mite of discipline. A round or two on Miss Monica’s bike there would do them both a world of good.”
“Hmmph,” said Aunt Pam, and took the breakfast plates inside, closing the door behind her with a bang.
Uncle Mort stood, too. “Reckon I might go get in line to use Miss Monica once she’s off her bike,” he said. “I’ve got a hankering to spill my load in something wet and slutty and crying, and if I wait too long that big buffoon Carl Dritter will go and make a mess of her like he always does.”
Joshua remained silent, and watched his uncle leave, heading for Miss Monica’s house. He hadn’t told his aunt and uncle yet that he was planning to marry Monica, or that he had proposed to her. She hadn’t exactly said yes – she’d had a ring-gag in her mouth at the time – but she’d orgasmed from him raping her, which he reckoned was close to a yes. His head was full of thoughts of how he’d make the town slut into an honest woman – or at least an appropriately controlled one – and he wasn’t quite ready to share them yet.
Joshua visited Miss Monica in the late afternoon. He heard sounds from the rear garden of her house, so instead of letting himself in via the front door, he pushed open the garden gate, and went to investigate.
The small property was graced by a lush and beautiful garden in the rear, with rosebushes, two tall apple trees, and a neatly mown lawn. Miss Monica was standing amidst it, watering it with a hose.
She wore her steel collar – which was welded around her neck, so she had little choice in the matter – and a pair of red high heels that looked like they were difficult to balance in. A short pleated skirt around her waist only barely covered her groin – which of course had no panties over it. Her tits were bare, and someone had wound tight elastic bands around the base of her mammoth plastic boobs, causing her titflesh to bulge and turn a dark, painful purple.
There was fresh wet cum on Miss Monica’s face, across her tits, and leaking from her pussy. Word around town was that Miss Monica wasn’t allowed to clean a man’s gifts off her without permission.
She looked up as he came in, and squeaked. She dropped the hose, and tried to cover her tits with her hands. Joshua thought it was adorable that a woman as slutty and degraded as Miss Monica still had the instinct to protect her modesty like that, and his heart swelled.
“Afternoon, Miss Monica,” he said, nodding his head to her. “You’re looking right pretty today, by the standards of a slutpig like you.”
Monica took a moment to process the combined compliment and insult. “Thank you, Joshua,” she said, looking down, submissively. “How can I help you today?”
Her voice made it clear that she knew there was only one way she helped men in this town, and that was by giving them a place to put their cocks.
“Well, I thought I might come round and check on my bride-to-be,” said Joshua. “It must be very hard, being used by all the men in town like this, and I thought maybe there was something I could do for you.”
Monica’s eyes widened. “Bride to be?” she said. “Joshua, we’re not…”
He stepped forward, and put a finger over her lips. “Sssh,” he said. “I know it’s a big frightening step, and your brain tells you lots of reasons to say no, but your pussy said yes the other day, and I reckon it’s the pussy that makes the decisions for a woman like you.”
“No!” protested Monica. “We’re not engaged…”
“It’s okay,” said Joshua. “Your brain is just really confused right now, with all the trauma of all the men who have raped you, and it doesn’t know what it wants. But your pussy does, Miss Monica, and it wants me bad. We just have to quiet down all those unhelpful thoughts in your head.”
He reached out, smiling, and grabbed her left tit – and squeezed.
“We just have to squeeze them right out of you,” he said.
Monica screamed. The elastic bands around the base of her tits had left her tits intensely sensitive, and Joshua’s crushing grip was agony.
“That’s right, Miss Monica,” said Joshua. “Let it all out.” And he leaned in and kissed her, to shut her up. It was better for her to scream into his mouth than to disturb the neighbours.
He kept kissing her until she stopped struggling, and when she did, he let go of her tit, and stepped away. “Now, we’ll know all those difficult thoughts are gone from your head when you ask me to marry you, Miss Monica,” he said. “That’ll be our sign that all that anxiety is gone.”
“No,” Monica moaned. “No…” She was swaying on her feet.
“I reckon before we go on, we should get you cleaned up, Miss Monica,” said Joshua. He began to undress, shedding his shirt, his shoes, his pants, his underpants, and Monica just watched, numb, in pain, and assuming from recent experience that she was about to be raped.
But when he was undressed, Joshua didn’t immediately stick his cock into her. Instead, he picked up the hose, and turned it on her.
Monica squealed as the cold water struck her face and tits. Joshua used the tap to turn the water to the highest pressure setting, blasting the cum off her abused udders, and squirting her in the eyes and mouth with the flow.
Monica tried to back away, and tripped on her high heels and fell down, hard, on her ass. This only helped Joshua. He stepped towards her, reached down, and forced the nozzle of the hose up her pussy, to clean out the cum of the men who had used her that morning. Monica squealed harder, and struggled to force the invading nozzle out of her twat, but Joshua’s position was better, and she was helpless.
When he was done rinsing out her fuckhole, he flipped her over, onto all fours, with her bound tits hanging down. Then he shoved the nozzle into her anus. He let her bowels fill with water, then withdrew the nozzle, letting her disgorge an impromptu enema. Once the first flow of water had trickled out of the sobbing slut, he knelt behind her, shoved his cock into her pussy, and stuck the nozzle back into her ass.
Monica couldn’t help herself. Cumming from rape and violation was normal for her now, and as Joshua repetitively filled her anus with water and then let it squirt out, combined with his rhythmic pounding of her pussy, she felt herself orgasm again and again, until finally Joshua filled her cunt with his own sperm (and promptly washed it out again).
“There we go, Miss Monica,” he said, as she laid on the grass, wet and sobbing. “You’re all clean, and the desires that you’ve provoked in me are taken care of. So now I can give you the present I brought you.”
He held something up, and she tried to focus on it. It was a ring. An engagement ring? But her vision was blurry, because there were multiple rings. Five rings?
Her vision wasn’t blurry. He really was holding five rings.
“This is a traditional engagement ring,” he told her, and pushed a golden band onto her finger. Then he put a tight metal bracelet over the same wrist, and locked it into place with a small key. A thin but strong metal chain connected the bracelet and the ring. “The bracelet means you won’t be able to take the ring off and lose it like a silly bimbo,” he said. “It will only come off with a key.”
“What are the other rings for?” she asked, staring at the gold band on her finger.
He only smiled – and took out a piercing gun.
She struggled, and tried to get away, but she was exhausted, and vulnerable, and a woman, and Joshua was able to easily hold her down. He did her nipples first, and was even kind enough to take the bands off the base of her tits first so that she could fully experience the sensation of having her nipples pierced. She screamed prettily as he did it – so prettily that he just had to kiss her – and he was satisfied that she looked gorgeous with a new steel engagement ring hanging from each of her tits.
“I’d hold still for the next one,” he told her, and it was clear he meant to pierce her clitoris.
“No! No!” she screamed. “Please! You can’t!” She searched for any way to get out of this. “Please! I’ll marry you! Please, just don’t! I’ll marry you! I want to marry you!”
Joshua beamed. “Why, it would be my pleasure, Miss Monica. There we go. I told you that once we cleared out your head and let your cunt do the talking, that you’d come to your senses.”
She was breathing heavily, unable to take her eyes off his piercing gun. “Please marry me,” she said again, not knowing what else to say.
“I said I would,” said Joshua. “But you still need your rings.” And he leant down, pushed her legs aside, spread her pussy lips, and pierced her clitoris.
She screamed. She orgasmed. She hated herself for being a slut.
She was still screaming when he reached into her mouth, grabbed her tongue, and showed her where the last piercing was going. By the time he was done, she had a heavy ring through the tip of her tongue, making it difficult to talk coherently.
“All done, Miss Monica,” Joshua said. “What do you think of your pretty new rings?”
“Aaah aah aggha,” said Monica, struggling to move her tongue in her mouth in ways that formed speech.
“That’s what I think, too,” said Joshua. “Now, I liked that you tried to cover your tits when I came to see you today, so I want to show you one last thing. Now, if I want you to cover your pussy, you’ll have something to help you, so you won’t ever forget.” He took her hand – the one with the ring and bracelet – and moved it to her cunt. Then did something – and just like that, Monica’s ring finger was clipped to her clitoris ring. If she moved her hand even a little, it tugged agonisingly on her clitoris. Her hand was trapped against her pussy.
She could barely move her hand at all. About the only thing she could do, if she crooked her ringer just right, was slide the tip of her finger into her fuckhole and fingerfuck herself. But only enough to tease – not to satisfy.
Joshua showed her a little key. “I can unclip you again later,” he said. “But for now, I think it’s best you keep your pussy covered, for modesty, because I’m taking you to see my aunt and uncle for dinner, and my aunt has very particular ideas about sluts like you, Miss Monica.”
“Aaga aggle?” said Monica.
“Yes,” said Joshua. “We’re going to announce our engagement! Isn’t that wonderful?” He smiled. “We’ll have to work out what to do about the rest of the town. They won’t take kindly if I insist that you’re monogamous to me now. I’m sure we can work out some kind of schedule where they all get their needs met, at least until the wedding. We can start with my uncle – I swear he *really* likes raping you, Miss Monica.”
Joshua was putting his clothes back on as he said this. He took something else out of his pocket, then went to Monica, pushed her mouth open, and pulled her tongue out by its ring. There was a “click”, and Monica realised he had just attached a dog leash – to her tongue!
“Come on, Miss Monica,” he said. “It’s a nice day for a walk. You know, I thought about attaching this leash to your tits, and then thought that was probably a bit cruel. This is much better, don’t you think?”
Monica couldn’t speak. She couldn’t pull her tongue back into her mouth. It was all she could do to totter along, nude, on her high heels, her hand clipped to her cunt, as Joshua led her down the street by her tongue.
There was only one thing she could do to make her life in any way better as she was led in humiliation down the street. And that was to hook the tip of her finger into her fucktunnel, and tease her pussy as she walked.
So she did.