Story: Riley’s Documentation, Part 10

Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine

Author’s Note: This is the FINAL CHAPTER of Riley’s Documentation.  If you’ve enjoyed this story please show your support with the purchase of the paid e-book at AllTheseRoadworks.com!  Available now for only $4.99 USD.  (Click here to view in store.)

===

“Orgasm from breast pain?” wailed Riley.  “I can’t – I mean, I don’t think I can…”

“You just orgasmed from pushing anonymous sperm up your cunt,” pointed out the male officer.  “You’ll be surprised what you can cum from once you surrender to your true nature as a fucksleeve.”

They brought her over to a low wooden table, and her kneel in front of it.  In the kneeling position, her breasts were perfectly level with the table, and they lifted up her tits and placed them on the table so that the wood was supporting them.

“Keep your head back, and out of the way of your tits,” warned the male officer.  He was taking off his leather belt.

“Please…” begged Riley.

“You can masturbate during the test,” said the officer.  “In fact, I encourage you to, because the test will only end in one of two ways.  The first is if you manage to orgasm.  In that case, you pass.  The second is that I decide your breasts are too badly bruised for it to be safe to continue whipping them.  In that case, we stop, but you will be required to attend for further weekly breast whippings until you acquire the ability to orgasm from tit pain.  Do you understand?”

It was simple enough.  Insane, but simple.  She nodded.

Tristan came to stand near the table, still masturbating, his cock aimed at her face.

“There we go,” said the female officer.  “Why don’t you look at your owner, and repeat these words while we whip you?  ‘I love you, Tristan.  I’m sorry I’m a worthless cunt.  I need you to control me.’”

Riley blushed.  But she had learned it was easier to not think, just obey.

“I love you, Tristan,” she whispered.  ‘I’m sorry I’m a worthless cunt.  I need you to control me.”

“Very good,” said the male officer.  “Let the test begin.”

And he took his leather belt and lashed it down across Riley’s tits.

She screamed.  It left a red welt  It *hurt*.

She desperately fingered her fuckhole, eager to cum quickly.

“I love you, Tristan,” she moaned.  “I’m sorry I’m a worthless cunt.  I need you to control me.”

Again the belt came down across her sensitive fuckbags.  And again.  

Riley had never felt such pain in her tits.  It was getting confused in her mind with the pleasure she felt in her pussy.  She jammed her fingers up her fuckhole, and rubbed her thumb across her clitoris, and moaned whorishly.

“I love you Tristan.  I’m sorry I’m a worthless cunt.  I need you to control me.”

The words seemed right – and they seemed even more right when the belt lashed her boobs again, and again.  She *was* a worthless cunt.  She was in this position because she had been a bitch to Tristan, instead of loving him.  If she had loved him, she would have let him control her.  She would never have gone to Brazil, and she wouldn’t be here now, getting her tits whipped.  She was such a stupid, worthless cunt.

Her eyes tried to focus on Tristan’s cock.  It had felt good inside her.  It had made her happy.  She had never really been happy before, had she?  Probably not, because she had been thinking.  Thinking made it worse.  She needed to not think, and just obey.

Another lash across her tit-flesh.  And another.  The welts were turning an ugly purple.  Her whole world was the agony in her fuckbags and the wetness in her fuckhole.

“I love you, Tristan,” she moaned.  And she meant it.  “I’m sorry I’m a worthless cunt.  I need you to control me.”  And she meant that too.

Lash.  Lash.  Her tits were throbbing sacks of pain.

“Please, sir,” she heard herself beg. “Please help me cum.  I love you.  I love you.  I’m sorry I’m a worthless cunt.  Please help me cum.”

As she said those words, she heard Tristan groan, and suddenly more hot sperm was splashing on her face . She had made her owner cum.  She felt a glow of pride as his semen splattered on her cheeks and eyes and lips.

And as he orgasmed, Tristan said, “Don’t think, just obey, Kitten.”  And then, in a deep, commanding voice, “CUM.”

The command went straight past Riley’s conscious mind – and suddenly she was cumming, moaning, squirming, writhing like a slutty little animal.  She was cumming from being controlled.  Cumming from humiliation.  Cumming from the agony in her tits, and the knowledge that she deserved it.

“Good bitch,” whispered Tristan.

Riley slumped to the ground, one hand clutching her bruised tits, and the other still holding her cunt, and the officers allowed her to.

“Well, that’s it,” said the male officer.  “I think we can release her into your custody.  We’ll file her paperwork and have the results delivered to your address, along with her new identification.”

“Thank you very much,” said Tristan.  He had put away his cock and done up his pants, and was busy cleaning his hands with antiseptic gel and a wipe.  “I think this has been a really good experience for Kitten Tits.  It’s really aided in her personal growth.”

“Would you like a leash and collar for your new pet?” asked the female officer.  “We’ve got some cheap ones you can use until you’re able to visit a pet store.”

“Oh, no, I came prepared,” said Tristan.  He opened a bag he had brought with him and drew out a black leather collar with a tag that read “Kitten”.  He knelt beside Riley and placed it around her neck.

Riley let it happen.  There was no sense in fighting it.  She had learned that.  There was no sense in even *thinking* about it.  Thinking didn’t make her happier.  She lay still and let her new master collar her.

Then Tristan snapped a dog leash onto her collar.

“Okay, Kitten Tits,” he said, “it’s time to go home.”  He smiled and jiggled the leash.  “Walkies.”

One year with Tristan.  That was what she had agreed to.  At the end he would take her out of the country and set her free.  One year as his toy, his fuckpet, or whatever else he wanted her to be.  He would keep her out of the “rape brothels”, he would stop her being brainwashed into a mindless slave, and in return she would accept him as her master and satisfy his cock.

She hated it.  But she had agreed to it.  And she had no other options.

She got back up onto her knees and looked at him.  “Should I stand or crawl, sir?”

“Oh, I think you can stand for now, Kitten,” said Tristan.  “We’ll train you to crawl at a good pace later, but for now I think you might be annoyingly slow on all fours.”

She remembered that she wasn’t Riley anymore.  She was, legally, “Kitten Tits” – and she would be punished for ever responding to her old name.

“You can get her luggage at the baggage claim,” said the female officer.  “Have a nice day, sir.”

“Thank you,” said Tristan.  “Come along, Kitten – there’s a good little bitch.”

And he led her forth, naked, from the inspection room.

Kitten winced as she stepped into the light of the terminal outside – and blushed when she remembered she was still nude, and now surrounded by people.

But this was her life now.  This was how she would live.

And collared, leashed – and fully documented – she walked forward with her master to live it.

===

This was the FINAL CHAPTER of Riley’s Documentation.  If you’ve enjoyed this story please show your support with the purchase of the paid e-book at AllTheseRoadworks.com!  Available now for only $4.99 USD.  (Click here to view in store.)

===