Thursday , May 26 2022

Jenny’s Breast Torture

Jenny shivered and gripped her elbows tightly as she felt him move
behind her. His warmth caressed her bare back as his hands caressed her arms to
her elbows then trailed up her ribs to rest under her breasts. Slowly, almost
tenderly he cupped her undersides. “You might feel some pressure.” His voice
taunted her as he began to squeeze her breasts. The soft pliant flesh tried to
accommodate him by bunching high up on her chest and sliding between his
fingers. Soon no more accommodation was possible and waves of pain began
crashing through her slender body in time to her frantic heartbeat as the tender
flesh was compressed. Jenny’s mouth hung open gulping in air for screams she
was too afraid to voice and sweat burst from her chest. The cool breeze coming
through the window created an almost unbearable contrast between the chilled
flesh it could reach and the burning flesh covered by her tormentor’s hands. As
the grip tightened past her wildest dreams of endurance Jenny’s quiet moans
turned to high pitched whimpers. Finally he released her and stepped back.
“Turn around”. Jenny slowly, carefully pivoted, her favorite pair of old pink
panties were stretched between her knees and intuition told her it would be bad
if she let them drop. As she came to face the full length mirror she saw an
approving smile and felt an inappropriate surge of pride that she had guessed

All feelings of pride vanished when she saw the reddened hand prints on
her tits and the pain came rushing back. The detailed print of a large
masculine hand was clearly visible against the pale white flesh of her breasts
and purple bruises were already beginning to form where his finger nails had dug
into her. Morbid fascination caused her to compare the creased red flesh to the
usual perfect white mounds that greeted her gaze and she shuddered at the
punishment her poor tits had endured. Still they had recovered well, the
throbbing pain was starting to subside and they were just as firm and round as
before. Once again pride rose as she realized that even at only fourteen years
of age her breasts were more than big enough to hold the hand print of a full
grown man. This time when he moved behind her she stood straight and thrust her
breasts out, daring him to overcome their youthful resilience.

His hands covered her front, nestling her small flat nipples in the
palm. He pulled her back against his body his hands forcing her breasts flat
against her chest wall, fingers spread wide to grip as much of her as possible.
Again he began that long slow squeeze and she felt uniquely feminine pleasure as
his hands struggled to master the fullness of her breasts. The budding pleasure
quickly turned to pain as an invisible line was crossed and his hands became her
master. Soft flesh was once more forced between crushing fingers. The pressure
quickly passed the previous level and all the blood in her breasts was forced
into the small bulges that had escaped and the perfect white flesh blossomed
crimson. As the agony became unbearable she fainted.

Jenny stared uncomprehendingly at the little girl in the mirror. White
blond hair hung in disarray to her waist and framed the pale slim body. The
full rounded mounds of her breasts covered her thin chest and turned the girl
into a woman. A narrow waist flared into similarly feminine hips that trailed
away into long graceful legs sculpted by years of gymnastics. The legs were
bisected by a dainty cleft closed by full lips and lightly covered by nearly
invisible wisps of white blond hair. A thin trail of clear fluid spilt from the
cleft and trailed down her right leg to the turn of her knee. As Jenny focused
on the trail the smell hit her. “Oh god, no!” she whispered almost inaudibly.
Her gaze lifted to the man behind her.

He was holding her upper arms in that intimately familiar firm grip to
keep her standing. She could tell by the small amount of pain that he had only
been holding her up for a few seconds since she had fainted from the pain in her
breasts. She could also tell by the deep feminine musk filling the air that she
had orgasmed in those same few seconds. Seeing her awake he released her arms
and she straightened. After taking a deep breath to steady her nerves she stood
again as he had first placed her, legs slightly spread arms behind her back so
her hands touched her elbows. After trying to look his reflection in the eyes
and failing she swallowed and stared at her nickel sized nipples and pushed her
shoulders back offering herself to him. His hands took her offering, this time
from the top and slowly tightened.

The pain came quick this time since her already delicate female flesh
had been tenderized twice now. The jolt of pain flared in her breasts then slid
out of her dry lips as a squeal of pain. A heartbeat later a sharp spike ran
down her sternum and burst at the top of her cleft. A hot tingle and buzz
erupted across her lower abdomen and across the skin of her buttocks. The
squeal slid into a deep moan and her consciousness wavered under the crash of
conflicting signals. She oscillated between the agony tearing her young breasts
apart and the strange hot pulses erupting deep inside her. The torment
continued as the vise like grip on her breasts tightened until she jumped
between almost passing out from the pain again and cumming for the second time
in less that a minute. Finally, as if he could read the swings of her confused
body, her tormentor released her breasts just as the pain flopped to pleasure
and she climaxed. Hard shudders racked her slender body as inexperienced
muscles deep inside her treasured depths clenched, trying to tighten around
their nonexistent counterpart. Lubricating fluids were released and slid out of
her unused.

Regaining her breath, Jenny looked at her reflection. A thin line of
viscous fluid hung from her lower lips halfway to her panties. Her young
breasts were completely red and covered with creases where the pliant flesh had
been folded in on itself. Dark bruises marked the areas his finger tips had
pressed. Still they stood defiant of gravity and her tormentors mangling hands.
Poorly understood pride surged through her, pride that she was still beautiful
despite the mistreatment, pride that she was a woman, pride that her body had
compelled such desperately harsh longing. Once more she stood and offered her
breasts. His touch this time was even gentler as he cupped and held her up for
inspection but the pain flared higher. “When will you stop?”, she whispered so
softly that for a moment she was unsure if she had actually spoken. “When you
cum on the floor.” His voice held such condensed cruelty that she marveled at
his ability to control it and just for a second she loved him for protecting her
from it.

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