Story: Riley’s Documentation, Part 6

Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five

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If Riley had thought that the humiliating public measurement of her breasts was complete, she was sadly mistaken. 

The officers adjusted the machine now until Riley was completely flat, face down, with her tits hanging down beneath her towards the floor.  Then they raised the machine a little, so that Riley’s breasts hung at an easily accessible height. 

“Preparing to measure nipple load threshold,” said the male officer.  He looked across at Tristan, who was sitting, grinning, as he stared at Riley’s humiliation.  “Would you like to help with this one?” he asked. 

“I’d love to,” said Tristan eagerly. 

The male officer turned back to Riley.  “Tell your boyfriend that you’re a dumb cunt, and that you’d like him to help measure your udders.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Riley objected – and she was rewarded by the officer grabbing her hair with one hand to lift her head away from the frame she was strapped to, and slapping her across the face with the other hand. 

Riley made a mewl of pain – and then remembered what she was to do if she didn’t want another slapping. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” she gasped.  “I’m sorry for…” 

What had she done, though?  Or rather, how would the officer want her to describe it? 

“I’m sorry for mouthing off like a dumb bitch,” she concluded, blushing. 

“Now ask your boyfriend,” said the officer. 

She tried to remember what she was supposed to ask. 

“Tristan,” she said, “I’m a…” 

She flushed.  She didn’t want to say this.  Not to him, a man who she hated so much. 

But what choice did she have? 

“Tristan, I’m a dumb cunt,” she said, finally.  “Could you please come help measure my udders?” 

“Of course, Kitten,” said Tristan.  He came to stand near to Riley’s face. 

The male officer attached a clamp to each of Riley’s nipples, making her gasp.  The clamp had a short chain attached to it, which led to a large metal ring, which now dangled beneath Riley’s fuckbags. 

“This is a basic test of how much weight your nipples can support before the pain becomes overwhelming,” said the male officer.  “Your boyfriend here is going to add weights to your nipples, one by one, until you scream that you can’t take it anymore.  Now, we really need you to take as much pain as you possibly can, so we have an incentive for you.  We know what the average load is that a woman of your measurements is able to take, and we know the load that the top 20 per cent of women can take.” 

He stroked the side of her face, casually. 

“We’re not going to tell you what those numbers are, but if you tap out before getting to that top 20 per cent figure, we’re going to let your boyfriend here stick his cock in your cunt and fuck you.  And if you don’t even make it to the average number, we’re going to let him cum inside you too.” 

She whimpered.  “Please, no,” she said.  “I don’t… he’s not…”  

She stopped, not wanting another slap. 

“It’s all up to you,” said the officer.  “You just have to take the pain long enough.”   

He passed a small bag of metal weights to Tristan, and said, “One at a time, alternating breasts.  If you don’t think she’s feeling the pain enough, you’re welcome to lift the weights up to her nipple, and then drop them.” 

Tristan grinned, and began clipping the weights to the rings hanging from each of Riley’s nipples.  The pain very quickly began to mount, and Riley began to moan. 

“Do you need to give up, Kitten?” asked Tristan, smiling. 

She was fairly certain she had not reached the average yet.  She shook her head.  “No, sir,” she said. 

Tristan frowned.  Then he lifted both weighted rings to her nipples and let them drop.   

She squealed as they yanked downwards cruelly on her nipples.  It already hurt so much!  

And Tristan just went on adding more weights. 

By the time there were ten weights on each nipple, Riley could think of nothing but the pain in her tits.  They hurt so much!  Had she reached the average yet? 

And Tristan lifted the rings again. 

“Oh, please, no,” she begged.  “Please… please, sir.  It hurt so much the first time – and there’s more weights now.  Please.” 

“Tell me that you love me, and that you want to suck my cock, and that you want me to fuck you,” said Tristan.  “Make it sound convincing.” 

Riley was desperate to avoid the pain of having the weights yank down on her tits.  “Please, sir.  Please, Tristan.  I love you.  I love you so much,” she babbled.  “I want to suck your cock and I want you to fuck me…” 

“Not convincing enough,” declared Tristan.  And he dropped the rings. 

Riley screamed.  It felt like the clamps were going to rip her nipples clean off.  She had never had such pain in her fuckbags before. 

“Don’t make me ask for it again,” said Tristan.  “Start trying to convince me now.” 

And he went back to adding weights to her nipples. 

“God, I love you, Tristan,” she said.  “I love you so much.  I want to… I want to marry you.  And suck your cock.  Your cock tastes so good… I want it inside me.  I want you to fuck me.  I want…” 

They were at fourteen weights on both nipples now, and when Tristan raised the rings back up to her breasts, Riley couldn’t help but feel tears in her eyes. 

“Please,” she babbled.  “Please.  No.  Please.  I love you.” 

“If you loved me, you would want to entertain me with your pain,” said Tristan.  “You would want to scream for me.  Which is it, Kitten?  Do you love me, or not?” 

She didn’t know what to say.  She didn’t know what the right answer was.  But she didn’t want him to drop those rings again.  She would do anything. 

“I love you,” she said, in a pathetic, desperate voice. 

“So…?” said Tristan encouragingly. 

“So… I want you to hurt me,” said Riley.  She was so confused.  She just didn’t want him to hurt her, so she’d say whatever he wanted, even asking him to hurt her – did that make sense?  It didn’t, did it? 

“Whatever you say, Kitten,” said Tristan, and dropped the rings. 

Riley’s scream was raw and ragged.  She couldn’t believe that this abuse wasn’t damaging her breasts.  Her nipples weren’t made to carry this weight.  She thought that each breast was now supporting a weight equivalent to a large stack of books.  How could her body do this? 

Tristan added another weight to each tit – and then lifted the rings again. 

“No!” screamed Riley.  “No!  I can’t take it!  I give up!” 

Tristan looked disappointed – and then dropped the rings, on principle, before stepping back, chuckling at Riley’s agonised, tortured scream. 

The female officer stepped forward now. 

“Fifteen weights,” she said.  “That puts you at about the 60th percentile.  You beat the average, but I’m afraid your boyfriend is still going to fuck you.” 

To Riley’s immense relief, the woman now removed the clamps from Riley’s nipples.  There was some pain as the clamps came off, but it was nothing compared to feeling all those weights yanking at her tits. 

Meanwhile, the male officer adjusted the machine to spread Riley’s legs further, and then invited Tristan to step between them. 

Riley wanted to beg, and bargain, and do anything to stop the hated Tristan from fucking her.  But she knew by now that her opinions were irrelevant, and what would happen would happen, whether she consented or not. 

And sure enough, a few moments later, she felt Tristan’s hard cock pushing into her wet, defenceless pussy. 

She couldn’t believe it had come to this – that she was being lawfully raped by a man she hated in her own country.  And it was being filmed.  And she would be expected to thank Tristan for raping her when he was done. 

Nor could she believe how *wet* her cunt was – or how it eagerly squeezed Tristan’s cock, or how part of her brain wanted him to push deeper inside her, and fuck her harder. 

“No cumming inside her, now,” warned the male officer. 

“I’ll be good,” chuckled Tristan, thrusting his hips to drive his dick deeper into Riley’s non-consenting fuckhole. 

“While he’s enjoying her, why don’t we do the constriction and compression tests?” said the female officer. 

“Agreed,” said the male.   

He reached down, and cinched a loop of plastic around the base of each of Riley’s tits.  The loops were attached to some kind of handheld device, and when he pressed the trigger on the device, the loops clicked, and grew tighter.  He pressed the device six times in rapid succession, until the loops grew tight enough to stay in place on Riley’s breasts without being held. 

“This is just a basic test to measure the base size of your udders,” the male officer said.  “Like the other test, it may hurt, but we don’t need you to tell us where to stop for this one.  The loops will naturally pop free when your breast compression reaches its limit.” 

Riley tried to say something, but as she did, Tristan forced his cock into her with particular force, and all that came out was a gasp. 

“We’re at level six,” said the male officer.  “I’m taking it up to level 10, in stages.”   

He clicked the device, and the bands grew tighter around Riley’s tits.  He clicked it again, and again, and again. 

Riley moaned. They were tight enough now to begin to hurt. 

“Level 10,” he reported. 

“You know,” said the female officer, “a lot of men get their wives or daughters to wear this kind of constriction in everyday life, these days.  They like the way it makes a bitch’s tits look.  I wore it myself on a date once.  It’s a great way to show men that you understand you’re nothing but a pair of fuckbags, and that you’re prepared to degrade yourself for men’s entertainment.  Men see that as a plus in a woman.” 

“Taking it up to level 15,” said the male officer. 

The loops around Riley’s tits began to ratchet tighter again.  At thirteen she began to squeal.  Her boobs were bulging lewdly, and turning purple as their blood flow was restricted.  They felt intensely sensitive.  By the time the officer reached the fifteenth ratchet, she was whimpering constantly. 

“Please,” she said.  “I think that’s as far as they can go.  You can stop now.” 

“Oh, I don’t think so, sweetie,” said the female officer.  “Even my tits got to 17, and I think yours can go further than that.” 

“That’s right, Kitten,” said Tristan, still vigorously fucking her cunt.  “You can take more.” 

“Taking her to 18,” said the male officer. 

Riley couldn’t process what was happening to her.  She was being raped – and yet it felt good, and she wanted to cum.  Her tits were being tortured, and the pain was overwhelming, and yet it just made her pussy wetter. 

“16.  17.  18,” counted the male officer, constricting her tits tighter with each click of his device. 

“I think the bitch is going to orgasm from her boyfriend’s cock,” said the female officer. 

“Taking her to 19,” said the male officer, and Riley screamed as the bands went tighter still. 

“I think they’re going to pop at 20,” predicted the female officer. 

“Me too,” said the male.  He looked at Riley.  “The longer these bands stay on, the more painful they are when they come off, because the blood rushes back in.  It can be fairly overwhelming.” 

“Please,” begged Riley.  “Please take them off. 

“Well, we don’t want to spoil your orgasm,” said the male officer.  “Why don’t you finish enjoying your boyfriend’s dick, and then we’ll remove the bands?” 

Riley moaned.  They hurt so bad.  She didn’t want to cum like this, with her tits in agony.  It would be… confusing.  And embarrassing. 

And yet, as much as she hated Tristan, Riley had to admit that he *was* about to make her cum, if he kept fucking her that way… 

She could do nothing but moan. 

The officers smiled, and watched her… and only a minute and a half later, Riley felt it coming.  She was about to orgasm.  She was going to cum.  She was – fuck – she was cumming, NOW… 

The male officer smiled, and clicked his device.  The bands got tighter – agonisingly, terribly tighter – and then there was a “pop” and they disengaged, falling away from her tits. 

The blood rushed back in. 

Riley screamed.  She had never felt her tits hurt so much in her life.  It was like a thousand pins jabbing into her sensitive titflesh, all at once. 

But at the same time she was *cumming*.  She couldn’t stop herself.  She was orgasming through the overwhelming pain, orgasming on her rapist’s cock, and she could *feel* the experience rewriting her brain, confusing pain and pleasure, connecting that terrible agony in her tits to the intense sexual pleasure she was feeling in her fuckhole. 

Tristan began to laugh as he saw what was happening, and then the officers were laughing, too.  Laughing at the orgasming pain-slut restrained in their device.  The laughter was the most humiliating sound Riley had ever heard, and it just made her cum harder. 

It was only when she was done – shaking, twitching, her mind a lust-fogged mess – that Tristan reluctantly withdrew his cock from her pussy.  He clearly would have liked to discharge his cum into her womb – possibly impregnating her – but for now he would wait. 

“Shall we do the lactation test now?” asked the female officer. 

“Yes,” said the male officer.  “We can put her on the machine, and go to the other interview room to start documentation on another bitch, and come back to resume with this one afterwards.” 

Riley’s eyes widened.  “Wait, what?” she asked. 

The male officer smiled.  “Shush, cunt,” he said.  “We’re just going to see whether you’re a human or a cow.  It’s going to take a little while, and we’ll do other things during the test.  But don’t worry – we’ll leave your boyfriend here to supervise you.” 

Tristan grinned at Riley. 

“Don’t worry, Kitten,” he said.  “We’re going to have a fun little chat…”

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