Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven
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The Sheriff clipped a dog leash to Tayla’s collar.
“We’ll do the measurements in the back shed,” he said. “It’s only across the back garden, but it’s best that you get used to being leashed in public. Be grateful it’s your collar that it’s connected to.”
Tayla didn’t immediately understand the Sheriff’s implication. Where else would you connect a leash? And then she remembered Sheriff Rutman’s threat when she had first left the hospital – that he would have her clit pierced, and connect a leash to the piercing. She shivered in fear. At least they were allowing her to walk upright.
The Sheriff and his son led Tayla by the leash out the back door, across the garden – lit by a glaring rear patio light in the darkness of the night – and into an aluminium work shed against the back shed.
The inside was crude – a floor of raw cement, undecorated walls, a wooden workbench, and a range of tools and appliances. And it was here that Tayla had her “measurements taken”. The proceedings were degrading and painful, but trapped nude between the Sheriff and his son, Tayla knew that these things would happen to her no matter what she wanted, and that there was no point in resisting.
First they weighed her – and it wasn’t done in an ordinary way by having her stand on scales. Instead, they had her crawl into a large dog cage, which itself was placed on a large scale. It was a process intended for weighing pets and other animals.
“She’s a fat pig,” laughed Edward, as he saw the reading. Tayla knew, objectively, that his words were nonsense – she was quite thin by most standards – but ingrained cultural insecurity about women’s weight still made her flinch and blush.
“Shush, son,” said the Sheriff. “I know you like them with tiny waists and basketball tits, but this is a pregnant bitch, and she’ll need to eating for two and putting on some weight to have a healthy birth.”
They photographed her like that, nude in the cage, as well as noting the weight. Then they pulled her back out of the cage and moved her to the workbench, where she was made to rest her breasts upon a second, smaller scale, so that they could be weighed separately.
“20 pounds,” the Sheriff noted. “13.5% of body weight. If she weren’t pregnant, I’d want to get her up to about 16% like your mother. Her udders will get bigger over pregnancy, but without assistance that will top out at about another 3 pounds, But the rest of her body will likely gain about 25 to 26 pounds by the time she’s ready to give birth, so her breast weight ratio will go down.”
“Why does that ratio matter?” Tayla dared to ask.
The Sheriff just looked at her as though she were stupid. Maybe she was stupid, she thought – why had she dared to question the Sheriff, over something so trivial?
“Breast weight to body weight ratio is a key measure of the value of a woman,” he told her.
Then there were further measurements of her breasts. The first she was familiar with – an underbust evaluation, measuring the circumference of her torso directly beneath the breasts. It was an important part of bra sizing.
The next measurement was not so standard, however. The Sheriff allowed Edward to do it, and it involved taking two lengths of special tape and looping them around the base of each of Tayla’s tits, before pulling them tight, constricting the breast around the base so intensely that it restricted the blood flow, leaving Tayla’s tits bulging lewdly and slowly turning purple. It hurt a little, and Tayla waited eagerly for the tape to be removed after the Sheriff and Edward had taken their readings – but instead they left it in place for the next measurements.
First came a standard bust sizing – a tape across the thickest part of her tits and running behind her back, the second part of a standard bra sizing. However, whereas in the past such sizings had been gentle, not overly squeezing the breasts, the Sheriff pulled this tape as tight as it would go, crushing Tayla’s tits into her chest – and with the constriction still in place, it hurt badly, making Tayla whimper in pain.
Then the bust tape was removed – but not the constriction at the base of her tits – and she was led back to the workbench, where an odd contraption awaited her.
“Hold her arms,” said the Sheriff, and Edward obligingly pinned Tayla’s wrists behind her back, before forcing her up to the workbench, until she felt the top of the wooden bench pressing into her ribs, just beneath her tits.
The device was a rectangular wooden frame, with some screws and metal components. Her tits were forced through the frame, towards the back of the device, which held a pair of clamps on horizontal metal rods. The Sheriff pulled the rods out until the clamps were touching Tayla’s tits, and then he fixed the clamps to her nipples. She yelped – they were painfully tight.
Then the Sheriff pressed a button, and the machine whirred to mechanical life, and Tayla soon discovered why her arms were restrained – because if they hadn’t been, she would have flailed wildly at the machine to free herself from it.
As the machine engaged, the clamps began to slowly retract towards the rear of the frame, tugging painfully on Tayla’s tits as they went. She watched as her tits were pulled by their nipples until they were extended as far out from her body as they would go. Her breasts were already so sore from the humiliating cleaning exercises she had been forced to do through the day. This further torture brought tears to her eyes.
The clamps kept tugging until she felt like her nipples would be ripped off – and then they stopped, and there was a beep, and a number appeared on a small digital display. The total extension length of her tits, she realised – although she didn’t understand the point in such a measurement.
Then the top of the frame began to descend towards Tayla’s breasts, and she began to struggle against Edward’s grip on her hands. It was futile, though – Edward had leverage, and was much stronger than Tayla, and in any case her tits were still trapped in the clamps.
The wooden bar of the frame top descended, until it touched her breasts – and then kept pushing down.
Tayla squealed. It was crushing her tits. Her breasts weren’t meant to be used in this way. As it continued to push relentlessly down, she watched them flatten under its merciless force.
“Shush,” said the Sheriff. “I know it hurts, but it won’t do permanent harm. We need those udders in good condition to feed your baby.”
Tayla was openly crying now. It hurt so much.
“She’s still struggling, dad,” said Edward. “I think you’re going to have to check her crush arousal – my hands are occupied.”
The Sheriff nodded, and moved closer to Tayla. He put on a black leather glove, and then reached between Tayla’s legs. There was nothing she could do to stop him forcing two gloved fingers into her pussy. In fact, she moaned as they went in – they felt suddenly so *good*.
When he removed his gloved fingers, they were dripping with cunt slime.
“Heavily aroused by udder crush,” noted the Sheriff. “That’s a good sign.” He wiped his glove across Tayla’s face, smearing the arousal juices across her cheek.
“You should test oral submission, dad,” suggested Edward.
“That’s a good idea,” agreed the Sheriff.
The cruel vice was still pressing down on Tayla’s tits – very slowly now, but continuing to flatten them against the table.
The Sheriff pushed his fingers into Tayla’s cunt again, and if anything they were even wetter than the first time when they emerged. Then he raised them to Tayla’s face and pushed them against her lips.
There was nothing Tayla could do. She was trapped, and in pain, and helpless. She opened her mouth and let the Sheriff push his fingers inside. She suckled on his gloved fingers, tasting her own fuckhoney.
“Instinctive oral submission,” said the Sheriff. “Good girl. Women inherently want to suck on what men put in their mouths, and they instinctively want their cunts to feel penetrated and stuffed with objects. Pregnancy helps women return to their primal, natural state, and as your baby develops, you’ll find it easier and easier to engage in natural, instinctive female behaviour like crawling, sucking, obeying, and fucking.”
He dipped his hand back to her pussy twice more, and each time she obediently sucked her slut juices from his fingers when he brought them to her mouth.
“Good bitch,” he told her, and stroked her hair with his other hand as she sucked on his fingers. “Pregnancy also emphasises the stupidity and helplessness of women,” he continued, “and you’ll also likely find it more and more comforting to have a man take control of your body and your decisions with each passing week. It’s natural to feel aroused during pain and restraint, because your body is receiving the signals that you’re under the control of a strong, dominant male who is capable of protecting you and impregnating you with healthy babies.”
The crushing frame finally dinged, and gave a reading, which the Sheriff noted down, and then to Tayla’s immense relief the frame retracted and the clamps disengaged, freeing her breasts.
But the measurements weren’t done there. Next they measured her belly circumference – much more carefully than they had with her tits. Then they had her bend over a low chair, ass out, and Edward smeared some lube on her anus, and then inserted something small and rubbery. She shivered. She had never had anal sex or done anal play before. She tried to turn her head, but she couldn’t see what the object in her ass was – only feel its small, rubbery shape.
Whatever it was didn’t stay small, though. Edward worked a hand pump, and she felt the object inflating in her anus, until it was uncomfortably large. They stopped before it became painful, and the Sheriff noted down what he called “anal measurements”.
“She’s pretty tight, dad,” noted Edward. “Should we train her up?”
“She doesn’t need a trained anus to give birth,” said the Sheriff. “But it’s generally an asset in a woman, and it’s our duty as her responsible men to guide her development in her best interests. Start her on the small plug.”
The inflatable thing was removed – and a moment later something else small and rubbery was shoved into her ass, with a wide base that ran up and down her butt crack.
“That’ll do for now, but we’ll replace it with a larger one every week or so until she can take a large cock without harm,” said the Sheriff. “If you need the anal plug out, ask permission – don’t try to do it yourself.”
Edward stood in front of her, and took his cock out of his pants. “Say thank you for training you to please men with your anus.”
She blushed, hating the words, hating these men – but helpless to disobey. “Thank you for training me to please men with my anus, sir,” she said in a quiet voice, and leaned forward and kissed the tip of Edward’s cock.”
“You’re welcome, cunt,” laughed Edward, and put his cock away again.
Then they got her to lie on her back on the cold cement floor. They used leather cuffs to bind her arms and legs to rings set in the cement, so that her legs were spread wide open.
“It would be better if we had a gynaecological chair,” grumbled the Sheriff, “but we’re not doctors.”
He used his fingers to tease apart Tayla’s labia, and then placed a tiny clamp on her clitoris, making her squeal with pain and pull at her bonds. He used the clamp to pull on her clit, extending out to its full (painful) length, and took a note of that figure. He released the clamp, took a photo of her spread pussy on his phone, and then inserted a speculum into her vagina, and took further measurements and photos.
Something about having men staring so directly and clinically at her vagina deepened Tayla’s shame and humiliation in a way that even sucking her cunt honey from the Sheriff’s fingers had not. Her whole body vibrated with embarrassment. She knew her pussy was so wet it was drooling, and that just made her even more ashamed.
Finally it was done, and they let her free from the restraints. But there was one last test for her.
“An intelligence test,” said the Sheriff. He handed her a tablet computer. “Just answer the questions as quickly and accurately as possible.” Then he reached beneath her legs and pushed something into her groin. She felt a short, stubby dildo slide between her cunt lips, stuffing the first four inches or so of her pussy – and then she yelped as a clamp clipped onto her clitoris.
The Sheriff didn’t explain. “Just do your best,” he said. And he and Edward sat on chairs to watch her.
The tablet displayed an app, and as the Sheriff had implied, it was full of simple questions. Some of them were simple math problems. Others asked her to correct spelling or grammar, or select the word that didn’t match from lists. Some asked her to sort objects into categories. Some asked her to answer questions about 3D shapes, or rotate shapes in her head, or select mirror images.
When she took too long to answer a question, or got one wrong, the device in her pussy would deliver sharp electric shocks – one to her clitoris, and one inside her vagina. It definitely motivated her to answer quickly and accurately, even though she didn’t care about giving the Sheriff an accurate test result in the slightest. But she soon found that not all wrong answers were equal.
One question asked her, “Which word doesn’t apply to women?”, and it offered her “tits”, “cunt”, “brain” and “leash” as answers. When she tapped “leash”, the zap in her clit and cunt was agonising, and she almost dropped the tablet from the shock. She had to try again, selecting “brain”, and this time there was no shock. Instead, the device buzzed slightly against her clitoris and pussy. It felt good.
But there was no buzz when she got the math questions right, or the spatial reasoning questions. There was no reward at all for the correct answers on these. And when she got them wrong, the zap was smaller – still painful, but not overwhelming – and the device against her groin vibrated *at the same time* as the zap. It actually felt a little good, in her horny state, to get these questions wrong.
Another question asked her to sort a set of objects into “human” and “animal”. She correctly put the computer and the money and the car and the man’s suit on the “human” side, and the cage and the dog bowl on the “animal side” – but she got repeatedly shocked until she realised that the bra and the tampons also belonged on the “animal” side. Finally putting them in the right place rewarded her with a long, sustained buzz, and she gasped in frustration when it ended because she was *so* close to cumming.
A question near the end flashed words at her quickly and told her to only tap on the words she associated with herself. Tapping “smart” and “rights” – and even “woman” – gave her painful shocks, but when she tapped “pink” and “silly” and “animal” and “slut”, she got delicious buzzes in her cunt.
The question counter showed she was nearing the end of the test – only three questions to go – and she realised that if it just buzzed a little more, she would cum, and the Sheriff and Edward were unlikely to let her have an orgasm when it was over.
So she deliberately got the next three questions wrong – all of them math questions – and as the last one shock-buzzed her, she felt her whole body tremble and quiver with the wonderful force of an orgasm.
The screen flashed a final result: “Intelligence ratio 62% human, 38% female.”
The Sheriff nodded, and took a note. “That will improve, as your body starts to redirect resources away from your brain and into your breasts, your womb and your cunt. But it’s a good start. Well done.”
Tayla felt perversely happy to have pleased him.
“Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself,” the Sheriff said finally, reattaching her leash to her collar. “Because we’re going to do those measurements every night from now on. Does that sound good to you, Tayla?”
It didn’t. It sounded painful and humiliating.
But she knew what to do.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Thank you for measuring me, sir.” And she leaned forward and kissed the Sheriff’s groin through his trousers.
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There a typo in the “leash” answer sentence?
Thank you for spotting this! Should be fixed now.
Wow, I love measuring, and it’s not a super common kink. Awesome 🙂
I’m glad someone’s into it! One of those things where I write it and then I go, “Wait, is this actually sexy? Is this a kink or just… things happening?” Anyway, it was hot for me, glad it is for others too.