Previous parts:
One | Two | Three | Four
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Charles and Bella had the talk about Bella’s behaviour right there, in Bella’s apartment, with Bella still half-naked and bound, with cum dripping from her pussy.
To Charles’ delight, Bella tried to apologise immediately, even though in reality what had happened was that she had been repeatedly non-consensually raped over the last few days specifically because of the circumstances that Charles had left her in. As soon as he pulled the ball gag out of her mouth, she began to chant, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and she began to nuzzle at his groin with her face, hoping to give him the more physical apology he had demanded in the past.
He allowed her to try. He unzipped his pants, took out his cock, and let her take it into her mouth. He enjoyed himself as she bounced her face up and down on his cock, and when he felt his orgasm approaching he pulled out and deliberately ejaculated into Bella’s eyes and her hair, to deepen her humiliation.
Her hands were still bound behind her back, and he saw no reason to free her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again.
Charles sat on Bella’s couch, and beckoned for her to kneel between his legs.
“Bella, Bella, Bella,” he said, shaking his head. “Only three days ago I arranged for you to get the piercings and tattoo that you wanted – which weren’t cheap, by the way – and how do you repay me? By spending your entire recovery time fucking other men. Look at you – you’re literally covered in sperm.”
“I’m sorry,” Bella whispered again.
Charles liked that Bella hadn’t disputed his assertion that the piercings and tattoo were things that *she* had wanted. Clearly her entire focus was on the shame and humiliation of her recent rapings.
He used his phone to take a picture of her, and she flinched as she heard the artificial “click” of the camera app.
“I don’t think anyone’s going to question why I’m breaking up with you when I show them this,” he said. “I think the only gossip among your friends for the rest of the year is going to be about what a giant whore you are.”
“No!” pleaded Bella. “Please! Don’t tell people about this. Don’t – don’t break up with me.” She looked at him with her best puppy-dog eyes, even though her face was still wet with cum. She even tried to cup her tits a little to make herself seem more appealing. “I love you,” she whispered.
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t cocktease your boss into fucking you every night,” said Charles. “You wouldn’t do… whatever it is you’ve been doing for the last three days.”
“But I do!” pleaded Bella. “I can’t help it. Those things just… happened. Please.”
He paused, as if thinking. Then, as if it was a new idea to him, “Would you go to relationship counselling with me? To sort these issues out?”
She jumped on it like a drowning woman on a life preserver. “Yes!” she said. “Yes, anything.”
He nodded. “I’ll make an appointment for tomorrow night. Be dressed at 6 pm, and I’ll pick you up. Make sure you’re wearing a skirt.”
Then he undid her bondage, releasing her hands and her clit. “Go clean yourself up,” he told her. “You look disgusting.”
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When he arrived back at her house the next night, he was impressed by her appearance. Without being told, she had dressed a little sexier than she normally did, in a miniskirt and a thin top with a low neckline. She was even wearing high heels. Combined with her newly blonde hair, she looked much closer to the bimbo that he had always fantasised about than she ever had before.
There was just one thing he found unsatisfactory.
“Go back to your bedroom and remove your bra,” he told her. “That top wasn’t designed to be worn with a bra – especially such a thick one. You look ridiculous.”
She dithered, clearly not wanting to remove her bra – but increasingly insecure about her appearance after Charles’ constant criticism, and eager to keep her boyfriend happy so he wouldn’t break up with her (and wouldn’t share her recent embarrassing behaviour with her friends).
He snapped his fingers. “Hop to it, pet,” he commanded.
She jumped – and ran to her bedroom. She came back moments later bra-less and blushing. The thin top clung to every curve of her tits, and her perky nipples were clearly visible pushing against the fabric.
He made no comment on this. Instead, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, as if he were going to hug her. She let him – and only realised too late that his intention was something else, when he gathered up her wrists behind her back, and trapped them once more in the fur-lined bracelet cuffs he had kept her in following her piercing.
“What are you doing?” asked Bella, alarmed, struggling to move her hands and finding they were now securely trapped behind her.
“Taking some precautions,” said Charles. “I’m worried you might try to back out of counselling. This is just going to ensure that you’re a good girl and go through with it. You *do* want to go through with it, don’t you?”
“Yes…” she mewled, uncertain of how to respond to this worrying turn of events.
“And this too,” said Charles. He knelt in front of her, reached up under her skirt, grabbed the hem of her panties, and yanked them down. Bella made a squeak of protest, but with her hands trapped she didn’t feel confident enough in her balance to resist – and once her panties were around her ankles, she had no real choice but to step out of them obediently.
“Please, Charles,” she asked, “why are you taking off my panties?”
“For this,” he said. He reached up under her skirt again, and used her fingers to part her cunt lips. Then he connected the end of a long chain dog-leash to her clitoris piercing.
“Charles, no!” Bella said with alarm.
“Sssh,” said Charles. “It’s just so you don’t run away. If you stay close to me, it’s just the right length for the chain to come down beneath your skirt hem and then up to the hand I’m holding it with. But if you fall behind or resist, it’s going to pull up the front of your skirt and expose your pussy – and probably hurt quite a bit. It’s just going to help you to be a good girl. You *do* want to be a good girl, don’t you?”
She didn’t – but she did. “Yes…” she said, uncertainly.
“Say thank you,” said Charles.
Her lips formed into a pout that was almost rebellious. She *didn’t* want to thank him for this.
But she didn’t want to break up, either.
“Thank you,” she said, in a sulky voice.
“Thank you for what?” he demanded.
“Thank you for leashing my pussy,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
“How else do you thank me?” he asked her.
It was almost too much for her, to be told to suck his cock to reward him for connecting a dog-leash to her cunt – but only almost. She sank reluctantly to her knees, nuzzled his pants with her face until he took out his cock for her, and then opened her mouth and began to suck.
As was becoming his custom, when it was time to cum, he pulled his cock from her mouth, and ejaculated onto her. Tonight he aimed for her tits, soaking her cleavage and the front of her dress with his cum. The moisture made her top even more transparent and caused it to cling damply to her titflesh.
He wiped his cock clean on her face, and pushed the tip between her lips for her to suck the last sperm from it, then put it back in his pants, and pulled on the leash.
“Come on,” he said. “Time to go.”
She looked down at her sperm soaked tits and back up again. “Charles,” she protested. “I need to clean this off.”
“No, you don’t,” he told her. “It’s best the counsellor sees what kind of woman you are anyway. Come on.” He tugged on the leash again.
She definitely didn’t want to leave the house like this – her hands cuffed, her cunt leashed, her tits soaked with cum – but she had no choice. Charles was moving, and pulling on the leash, and she could either rise and stumble after him or have her clitoris yanked off. Soon she was out the door, in his car, and they were on the way to the counsellor.
The “counsellor”, in truth, was no counsellor at all, but rather an accountant friend of Charles’ who went by the name of Adam Trust. Charles had roped Adam into his plan through the simple expedient of showing him a photo of Bella and suggesting he would be able to join in the humiliation and transformation of Charles’ girlfriend into an obedient bimbo slut. Adam had had a fake sign printed and obtained some other props so that his office – normally a private accountancy practice – would transform into a relationship counselling service after hours.
Charles parked several blocks from the office because he wanted some practice walking Bella on the leash. It was evening, but the street was well-lit by streetlights, and although not busy there was still no shortage of pedestrians on both sides of the street. Bella was a beautiful picture of humiliation as she shuffled along behind and to the side of him in her high heels. Her steps were mincing, because she knew if she lost her balance in the heels her hands were not free to break her fall. She was trying to move in his shadow to conceal her cum-stained bosom, but yet he wasn’t giving her much room on the leash, and she had to stay relatively close to his leash-holding hand if she was going to avoid the chain lifting her skirt and tugging on her clit.
The result was a submissive, stumbling walk half a step behind him and half a step to his right – which in Charles’ opinion was exactly the right place for a bimbo trophy girlfriend to walk, and he looked forward to training her to instinctively take that position whether she was leashed or not.
When they finally reached the office, Charles had one more humiliation for Bella. He stopped, reached out – and undid the catch on her skirt, pulling entire piece of fabric away in one clear move, leaving her bare-assed and bare-cunted on the public street.
“I think the counsellor should see your new tattoo and piercing, don’t you?” he asked her.
And then, without waiting for an answer, he opened the office door, and stepped in, using the leash to pull her in after him.
They were about to start their relationship counselling – and Charles had a feeling it was going to be *very* beneficial for Bella’s attitude going forwards.
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