Message-ID: <20966asstr$942304201@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: thndrshark@aol.com (Thndrshark) X-Post-Date: 01 Oct 1999 02:20:24 GMT Subject: {ASSM} "Carol's Tale" Part 2 by Thndrshark (bd,sm,tor,rubber,pierce, etc.) X-Original-Message-ID: <19990930222024.09108.00000318@ng-fi1.aol.com> X-To: story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us JMDigest-Score: good -24 Date: Thu, 11 Nov 1999 02:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin Carol's Tale Part 2 by Thndrshark The car door opened at the end of a long driveway. Carol squinted in the morning light, trying to make something out of the foreboding exterior of the distant mansion. As her mother stepped out of the car, she attached a short leash to her nose ring and began to pull. Carol began to panic. She hadn’t thought twice as she was dressed for her first day, until she realized that the skimpy outfit she now wore would not be covered by anything else. Her mother had to yank hard on her leash to pull her from the car. Carol was shocked that her arms had not been unbound, the large nose ring had not been removed nor had her ballet shoes been taken off. Instead, she was forced to rise from the car as she was, exposed to this new world as an out right slave. She felt naked in her small rubber outfit. A tight half top left her stomach area uncovered and barely managed to support her massive breasts. As if that mattered, as the latex was practically transparent. She felt as if she wore nothing on top. She could feel her nipple rings forced down against her skin, and the rods through her nipples fighting against the rubber. Her short skirt was the same, an ultra mini skirt that hugged her upper thighs. She might as well have been wearing cellophane, though the rubber provided a constriction unavailable in a single sheet of plastic wrap. Clearly visible through her skirt was a rubber G-string. Two straps of rubber descended from her waist, meeting just below her clit, leaving her piercing exposed. Held into place by the G-string were her two familiar pump up dildos, though the inflation bulbs no longer hid beneath her plaid skirt from grade school. The two balls hung clearly out from under her rubber skirt to mid thigh. Even her corset gave little cover. Made also of transparent rubber, only the steel shafts that held her waist in its 15 inch form blocked out anything. Carol could feel a growing sense of humiliation as she was led away from the safety of the car, up the long driveway to her new school. Tears welled up in her eyes as she pictured the shocked faces of the school adminstrators, as this tortured young girl joined the ranks of their school. She had no choice but to follow her mother up the long path and toward her fate. The school hallways seemed quite typical, and Carol felt even more humiliated by her appearance. They came upon the principal’s office and entered the anteroom. The secretary looked up briefly, her marmish glasses pushed low on her nose, only acknolwedging her mother long enough to get her name. Seconds later, a voice from the intercom asked Carol’s mom to enter, leaving Carol in the waiting room alone. She knew better than to sit down without permission, and instead stood in the center of the room, feeling the leash from her nose ring dangle between her breasts. The silence of the room was broken by a click. Carol knew that her shoes had tightened another notch and she dreaded the pain that would follow. The custom ballet boots had been fitted on her feet shortly after she had finished grade school. The form fitting rubber provided just enough support to her feet without making it easy to walk. The tips, sharp and pointed, forced her toes into a harsh wedge, the pain increasing with each step. After three months, she knew her feet had been irreperably modified. She could feel her toes changing shape, learning to deal with the painful position. The shoes had been designed to never come off, except with great force. The rubber had been permanently rivetted on her feet from the start. Her father had made sure the shoes were extremely tight, but had attached the compression device none the less. The ratchet strap at the back of her heel was designed to absorb any slack provided as her feet pushed further into the extreme point of the shoe. The ratchet only worked one way, however. Each time a click took up some slack, Carol knew her feet would be further changed. The waiting room made Carol feel even more humiliated. The normal walls, frumpy secretary and seemingly un-slave like surrounds made her conscious of the skimpy and exposing outfit she wore. She was almost glad when her mother came out and led her by her nose leash into the principal’s office. Unlike the outer room, the inner room was a more lavish example of dark woods, with evidence of education all around. Books seemed to cover the wall like a library, pressing their knowledge down on any bystanders. Carol’s eyes found the principal standing before her. An impressive six foot two in her six inch heels, the woman exuded control. She smiled at Carol, running her hand across her massive breasts, then using both hands to encircle her tiny waist. Her mother and she exchanged a few pleasantries, then they both sat and began working on the proper forms to admit Carol. She was neither acknolwedged further, nor offered a seat. Instead, just prior to sitting, her mother had attached her nose ring leash to a dangling chain that Carol had failed to notice. With a harsh pull, Carol’s head was forced up high and the free end of the leash was attached to Carol’s tongue ring. She could not move her position without causing great pain to either piercing. The meeting took a half hour and when finished, her leash was released. Her mother, tears in her eyes, gave her a peck on the cheek and a pat on the head, then left in a hurry. End of Part 2 For questions or comments, please write to Thndrshark@aol.com -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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