MENAGE: Public Humiliation (1st time Punishment + Victorian Humiliation, Submissive Fertile Female, Object Insertion, Voyeur) Volume 1- 3 Short Stories Book Boxed Set Anthology + BONUS STORY

by Nicola Diaz

  “We love it, you thief! Keep going. Do what we say!” Another man’s voice called out and so I rubbed myself harder, almost to the point of an orgasm.

  Yet as soon as I cried out with pleasure, I felt a jerk on the clips, and my body was hoisted up even higher in the suspension device.

  The crowd yelled out again. “Shove a rod up her pussy! Torture her!” One of the men screamed and then another yelled out, as well. I could hear one of the Task Force officers laughing on the right side of the platform.

  “She’s only one of many who will be hoisted and tortured in the city of Utopios!” Another Task Force officer’s voice boomed over a megaphone.

  “It is our duty to the law-abiding citizens to ensure their right to a clean and safe community. We won’t tolerate anyone who decides to break our rules!” He yelled out and the crowd broke out in a round of applause.

  I wondered if there was anyone in the crowd who had also committed a crime, but had just not been caught yet. It would have made me feel less alone to know that I was not the only one.

  “Utopios is in the midst of a massive transformation. We need to separate the so-called wheat from the chaff, and make sure that we are only allowing the most truthful and industrious citizens into our fold.” Jeb spoke up and then one of the other Task Force officers chimed in after him.

  “We have a place for those who don’t want to live by our rules!” His voice bellowed and I waited for the roar of the crowd.

  “And it’s called the Unix Society!” The crowd erupted with their response and then they led a man up to the stage. He held a rod and he reached up tot my vagina, then he smacked it three times. “Take that!”

  He then turned around and walked away. I wanted to sleep, but the cold air and the wild crowd made it impossible for me to receive even a second’s rest. I hung my head and then tried to kick out my legs but the shackles constricted my movements. I was wearing down and I wanted to scream out.

  Jeb cranked me up higher in the suspension and I could feel the clips cinch my body in tighter. The leather contraption that was wrapped around my waist was hot and restrictive. I tried to guess how high up I was, and figured that by now I was at least thirty feet above the ground. I could still hear the voices from the crowd, but they were growing more and more distant. In a sense, it felt better to be more removed from the harsh resonance below. Yet I still worried that someone would climb a ladder and try to attack me from the other side of the platform, regardless of how high up I was.

  I imagined that it was well beyond midnight now, and the air was cold and damp. I was chilled, and I wanted food. The depths of the Task Force’s punishment ran deep, and I could tell that there was no easy way to get myself out of the situation. I heard some of the man below comment about my breasts, and I wondered how much detail they could see from where I was positioned. In a moment of torturous rage, I yelled out.

  “One day, some of you will be in the same position. You will find out that you are human, just like me, and that you will have to endure the same cruel punishments as me.” I hoped that my voice could be heard above all of their conversations and jeering.

  I wanted them to understand that I was a person and that I had flaws just like all of them. I imagined that even some of the Task Force officers had their own faults that were simply not disclosed as public information.

  “We’re going to keep her up for another fifteen minutes, and then take her down.” Jeb made an announcement and I waited to hear the crowd’s response.

  Some of them responded with cheers, and a few others called out, requesting that I remain suspended for another day. I wished again that I had the option of removing the blindfold, but realized that there was no way to have Jeb, or any of the other Task Force officers, change their minds.

  After what felt like an eternity, I was hoisted up, yet higher. That must have been the apex of their punishment procedure, because at that point, they careened me out with a lever into the main fray of the crowd. I was still suspended several feet in the air, so that they couldn’t touch me, but if I should have fallen out for any reason,

  I would have landed directly on their heads as opposed to the platform floor. I dangled above them, my body weak, and my breasts swinging to and fro. My feet were numb from the metal shackles, and my hands were rubbed raw from being yanked through the cuffs toward the metal chains.

  There was a moment of silence, and I figured that the Task Force officers must have given some sort of a cue to the crowd to lower their voices. The air was now significantly colder, and I had pains in my stomach from being deprived for food for so many hours. I thought back to the moment that I slid under the barbed wire fence at the Unix Society’s border. I wondered what happened to the stolen coins, and to the boy who had come for them. As I lowered my head in exhaustion, I felt a slight release around my body harness.

  The Task Force was initiating my descent. I tried to remain calm, for fear that I would get my hopes up only to be hoisted back up and above the crowd. I was excited at the thought of finally being released, but at the same time I worried that they might have another devious idea planned for me, or that my journey to the platform floor would be interrupted by some odd twist of fate. Before I could give it much more thought, I realized that I was, indeed, on my way to the ground.

  The crowd went wild. First, a man came to the platform and asked to squeeze my clitoris. Jeb allowed him, and I wanted to scream. It was sexually humiliating, and I wanted it to end. I had no way to avoid it, so I simply sat back as he squeezed each part of my clit in his contribution to the humiliation. Jeb tried to get the crowd to settle down, but they were unruly and lascivious, pawing at the platform gates, trying top touch my breasts and my face. I could only hope that once I got to bottom of the platform that the Task Force officers would do something to get me out of harm’s way.

  “I think we should hoist her back up.” Jeb made an announcement when he realized that the crowd had grown too large to control.

  Surely, they wouldn’t do anything to make the Task Force officers angry, or they would be faced with a punishment, themselves. However, I still had the unfortunate experience of having to wait while someone else made a decision on my behalf. After some deliberation, Jeb apparently changed his mind about raising me back up, and instead continued to lower me to the ground.

  As soon as my feet touched the bottom, I cried out with relief. I had never been so thankful for touching solid ground as I was at that particular moment. I still couldn’t move much since my feet were cuffed, but that was not a concern. I tried to use my senses to detect where the Task Force officers were standing, but had little way to tell where they were positioned. Then I heard Jeb with the megaphone, trying to get the crowd to back up ten feet away from the platform.

  He must not have gotten the response that he wanted, because he had to make another announcement before they did as he asked. Within the next few minutes, the crowd was backed up far enough to the Task Force’s approval. I waited with patience, hoping that someone would unshackle either my hands or my feet. Yet nobody did anything. Instead Jeb made another announcement.

  “We’ll let one person from the crowd come up and rub her breasts, but you have to leave us a donation.” He chuckled and then a man’s voice rose from the crowd.

  “As long as the donation goes to the betterment of Utopios, I’ll do it.” He clamored up to the platform, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath before he even got near me.

  It was a chilling sensation, to be bound by both my hands and my feet, in front of an angry crowd, unsure of who was standing right before my face. He must have been a big guy, because he had a husky voice, and the weight of his body made the platform creak when he moved. I took a deep breath and then waited for him to fondle my bare tits.

  His hands were calloused and rough. He squeezed both of my breasts at the same time, and then pinched the nipples on each, laughing as he did so.

  “Can I give you a titty twister?” H
e chuckled as he pinched a nipple with each hand, and then twisted them in a circular motion until I cried out for him to stop.

  “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before trying to steal an innocent old lady’s cats.” He spit on the floor and then thumped off the platform stage.

  Jeb stood before the crowd and then hushed everyone’s voice again.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Thank-you for coming out tonight. We will now begin our procession through the town with the prisoner. Please clear the way.” He sat down the megaphone and unshackled my hands and my feet.

  I wanted to cry, but told myself to remain strong. The cold, damp air hit my chafed skin once the cuffs were removed and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Then I hung my head low, swallowed once to comfort my parched throat, and walked wearily forward as they dragged me off the platform, and into the night.

  THE END

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  Dominate Me!

  (Victorian Punishment, 1st time Spanking, Bondage, Fireplay, Backdoor Domination, Older Man Younger Woman) - A Dark Fantasy

  I could feel the cold, damp air blow against my skin and I stood in silence, my hands at my side and my face looking forward. The blindfold was thick, with a faint smell of cologne, and I wondered what lied before me. It was a strange sensation, being able to hear and smell what surrounded me, but being unable to see anything. I wondered what Bruce had in store for me next. I said nothing, and instead simply waited for his cues.

  Thinking back, I shouldn’t have been surprised that I ended up being under Bruce’s control. After all, I had made him look like a fool that night back in July. He had come sauntering out of the Carmine Club down on West Bodden, and I knew that he would be the perfect target. I was always a stellar pickpocket, and the summer months always brought in more money than I ever knew what to do with.

  On that particular night, I got hold of Bruce Connor’s wallet, and for a split second, it seemed as though my life could have changed. He had over five grand in cash stuffed inside that little leather billfold, and I jammed it all down my pants before he could even tell what was happening. As it turns out, he knew all along that he was being robbed, but he didn’t do anything to stop it. In fact, he said that in retrospect, he felt really bad for me because he knew that I needed the money.

  I continued to stand blindfolded, back straight and head high. Bruce tightened the knot behind my head and I felt the fold press down on my eyes. I didn’t like being unable to see. It was intimidating, and it evoked a sense of entrapment that made me question whether I would actually come out safe in the end. I took a deep breath and tried not to let the anxiety overcome me. His mansion was not far from the square, and I could hear the bells of the old tower clock chime eight times as I waited with increasing anticipation.

  Bruce was tall and confident. He had broad shoulders and a prominent jaw. The first time I saw him outside the club I noticed how he walked with a commanding swagger that made people stop and watch as he passed by. Even with his size and his presence, I didn’t think that he’d be much of a challenge for me. And the first time, he wasn’t. But I got greedy, like most people who get a flavor for something that they enjoy.

  The second time that I ran into Bruce it was outside of the same club, only this time he walked out with a friend. They were both laughing and making a lot of noise, which I considered the perfect signs of distraction. I crept quietly along the edge of the banister that separated the club from the parking lot, and waited for him to round the corner. Then I reached for his back pocket. I grabbed it out with no hitches, but unlike the first time I had snatched it, the second time was different. He caught me this time.

  He grabbed my wrists and held them so tightly I thought they would snap. Then he snickered. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He grinned with satisfaction and my heart raced with fear. What would he do with me? I had never been caught before. I gulped and looked around. It was dark, and nobody was outside the club except for a couple of drunken teenagers that would surely be useless in coming to my aid. I looked down at the ground, wondering what would happen next.

  “So here’s the deal. You got me the first time. Made off with one hundred pounds if I recall correctly.” He looked up at the sky as if he were expecting answers. “But this is the second time, and I’m not going to be as nice.” He narrowed his eyes and then got in my face. “I’m giving you an ultimatum. You can do one of three things.” He sounded like he was excited to read off his list. “Your first choice is to hand over my wallet.” I huffed under my breath.

  “Fat chance.” I tossed back my head and waited to hear his other options.

  “Your second choice is to turn yourself in to the police.” He looked at me with a frown and I laughed.

  “I don’t deal with the police.”

  “Okay. That leaves us with the third choice, which is to take my special punishment.” He chuckled and looked at me, his head cocked to the side and his eyes glaring at me. I can still remember telling him that I would take the punishment, laughing at him like it was some kind of joke.

  As I stood there with the blindfold, shaking and nervous, I wondered if going to the police would have been a better alternative. He called me “Little Thief Turning over a New Leaf,” and the sentiment was cute, yet foreboding. I knew that there was no point in telling him that I wanted to take off the blindfold. I had greed to the punishment, thinking at the time that it was better than the alternatives. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  A flock of birds flapped their wings and I heard them settle outside his balcony window. His mansion was dim, even with the few lit candles that he liked to keep out in the hall. I could sense his body coming closer to me, and I flinched out of instinct. He laughed and then cleared his throat. Then I felt the heat. Bruce must have had his torch in front of me, because I could feel the temperature gently rising in front of me. He liked to hold the torch about three inches from me, as close as he could get without physically burning my clothes or my skin.

  I didn’t want to move because one false step and I could easily be set on fire. Bruce enjoyed watching me stand in fear. He chuckled to himself as he started to circle me, and I lowered my head in submission. “You’ve got some fine looking thighs, Little Thief.” I always wondered why he referred to me as “little” when I was quite clearly the opposite. All of life, the little girls in London used to poke fun at me because of my size. As I got older, I learned to love my shape, and I soon realized that many men appreciated a big and beautiful woman, as well.

  “Don’t you think I’ve endured enough of your punishment?” I tried to be respectful, yet assertive. After all, I had no idea what he might choose to do. What if he got angry with me in a moment of retrospect, and decided to impart harsher vengeance upon me? I wanted to see that he felt satisfied with his punishment, yet I wanted to remain safe and unharmed in the process.

  “I’m not sure that I will ever feel that you’ve endured enough.” Bruce sneered at me and then adjusted his tone. “On the other hand, maybe after I get you tied up with some of this twine, I’ll feel a littler more at peace.” With that, he unraveled a long piece and grabbed my wrists. Then he wrapped it around several times, with each circular movement growing increasingly tighter. I winced but he didn’t let up on his task.

  “Surely that is enough. My wrists feel like the circulation is cut off.” I exaggerated a little, but for the most part it was terribly uncomfortable, and the only reason that I endured the wrapping of the twine around my wrists was because he let up on the torturous heat from the torch for a few moments. I wanted to break free, and my legs were growing weary form standing for so long. Yet Bruce till had more torture to inflict.

  “Maybe if you ha
d been more cognizant of how your behavior would affect your future, you wouldn’t be in this situation.” Bruce sounded self-righteous and intimidating. I wanted to tell him that I would never steal from another soul ever again, but I knew that it would be of no use. He was set on making me endure his punishment and I had to submit to his demands.

  Bruce grabbed me by the arm and told me to get on my knees. I knelt down and could tell that the temperature was changing outside. A cool breeze swept into the room, and I guessed that it was probably close to sundown by now. No sooner had the coolness of the air come inside when I felt the familiar presence of something hot beside my body. It was Bruce wielding his torch once again, and this time I was too weary to protest.