Chapter 5 - burst part 1

My eyes slammed awake and I felt a shutter of anticipation as I found myself in my mistress' dungeon yet again. I knew better than to attempt to stand up as I realized I was kneeling on the floor. No, it was better to just flex and learn what position I found myself in based on what I could feel.

I stretched my fingers and twisted my wrists, realizing that my hands were crossed behind me. The feeling of fibers rubbing against my skin told me that rope was woven around my wrists to keep them in place. When I flexed my feet, I found that rope was holding my ankles together as well. In fact, I felt a pull at my legs when I tried to lift my arms, so clearly my limbs were all bound together.

I stretched. Two months ago, I would have thought myself crazy for feeling as much freedom as I did now, bound on a dark dungeon floor. But it was so freeing to flex and stretch and find myself unable to move, my only option being to wait eagerly for my mistress to find me, to play with me, to make me moan.

My stretching, however, had been getting more... uncomfortable over the past week or so. My corset seemed to be shrinking, it hugged my chest and midsection more than it used to. The binding and restriction my mistress usually put me through was always fun and pushed me, but this was starting to feel almost painful, like there just wasn't enough room...

A familiar clack of heels echoed around the room and I knew my mistress was coming up behind me. I felt goosebumps raise on my skin as my body prepared itself. I licked my lips but stayed facing forward, knowing she would expect me to sit still for her.

She walked slowly into view, an elbow resting on the hand which held her crop, her other hand supporting her chin with one finger tapping her cheek as if she was thinking. She looked me up and down and I bit my lip, eager to begin our play.

"I would have thought she'd be through it by now," my mistress said, not really to me, more absentmindedly. I saw her lips purse, she seemed... frustrated.

She walked around me, I could feel her eyes drinking me in. I began feeling nervous; suddenly exposed and vulnerable in a way I hadn't felt since our first week together.

She ran the riding crop down my front, over the corset. I whimpered, almost more out of a want - a need - to know what was wrong, to know why she wasn't engaging me like she normally did. I felt like a child whose parent was ignoring them.

"You are fine, Pet," she finally acknowledged me, but it was still distracted. As she did, she reached into her pocked at placed a fudge in my mouth. I ate with glee, my loins alighting like Pavlov's dogs, knowing that these treats meant they were soon to be occupied.

My mistress however, kept pacing, mumbling as she did.

"Did I choose one that was too tough, too strong?"

She circled me, stopping to look at me every moment or so. Dropping a fudge into my desperate mouth as if to placate me.

The fudge did wonders to distract me from her odd behavior. I groaned and flexed as the flavor burst in my mouth, awakening something deep within me that was eager to escape.

As I sat docile and at her finger tips, she began prodding me with her crop. Poking my belly, my shoulder, my chest...

"26 pounds now. Just a start, but I would have thought it would be enough..."

I was beginning to feel as though I was being evaluated, like a show dog by a judge... or perhaps, a prized pig.

I followed my mistress with my eyes until I noticed someone else beyond her. No, not someone else, a mirror. Mirrors were sometimes used in our play. My mistress would have me look at myself bound, let me watch as she drew her crop up and down my body and even observe as she let the crop lick my behind so I could see my own reactions.

This one, however, didn't seem to have been set for her to play with. It was just there, against the wall, waiting to be used. I looked at myself, looked at my figure as I kneeled. I noticed, for the first time, that my body seemed to be desperately trying to escape my corset. Pillows of flesh that were the upper parts of my breasts sat atop of the fabric. Above my panties, a bulge of fat seemed squeezed out from under the garment. It was like someone had put a corset on a water balloon, like squeezing a tube of toothpaste without it being opened first.

Even my panties seemed to be straining to keep my widened hips covered. My thighs had grown, they looked meatier than I had ever seen them. My arms were thick and soft. My whole body look like it was swollen.

Lastly, I took in my face which seemed bloated, my cheeks full and round. My jawline had soften, my lips seemed fuller, slightly pouted by my thick cheeks.

It occurred to me that this is how I was looking in my daily life, that my dreams were reflecting my weight gain there...

Another fudge went into my mouth and I was temporarily taken away in ecstasy, my eyes closing and my mind melting, losing my trail of thought.

I felt another poke and realized that my mistress was prodding my bulges, touching the crop into where my flesh overflowed around the corset.

"I suppose I could...." she near whispered.

I whimpered again in response, confused and vulnerable with no idea what to do to get my mistress' attention back on our usual past time of indulgence and pleasure.

"Yes, I don't see any other way," she loudly proclaimed, snapping herself back to the present. "Alright, Dearest, we have a change of plans. I fear this is going to be hard on you, but it will be so worth it."

She began to untie some of the rope behind me. Soon my arms were free. I brought my hands forward, rubbing my wrists where the rope had previously been tight.

"Arms out."

I ignored her, continuing to rub. I was suddenly upset with how she had treated me. I had never had my hands so free before, I decided to milk the moment.

With a snap, I gasp as her crop bit my rear. A smile crept onto my face, I knew I had her again.

"I said, arms out." I put them out obediently. She stepped in front of me and began tying my wrists together again. Her deft hands made quick work of the bonds.

"Arms up," she said, reaching to grab something above me.

Again, I held still. She looked at me and I raised an eyebrow, challenging her.

In a flash, I felt the familiar sharp pain on my backside. I cried out, but it was pain mixed with a sort of pleasure.

"Arms up. Now." Her voice more stern than I had heard before, clearly I was striking a nerve.

I raised my arms keeping my eyes on her, on her shadowed face and thin frame, as she worked. I loved seeing her move so gracefully in her suit, her shapely legs encased in their fish nets. I bit my lip again.

I felt my arms being tied to something above me, I heard the jangle of metal and knew it was a chain.

When she finished, she pulled her remote from her pocket and pressed the gray bottom on top. I began hearing the familiar mechanical sounds drawing towards me. I didn't even flinch anymore when they began, though something began stirring inside me, excited for the tube to get to me.

My mistress ignored the machine's movements as well, she turned her head towards mine. She leaned one hand against the chain, making me lean back, her body looming over mine, her face inches away from my own. She towered over me, I was completely at her mercy, unable to move with my arms bound above me and my legs tied below.

"Don't toy with me. You are my plaything, not the other way around. We don't have time for insolence this evening, unless you wish to be thoroughly punished," she hissed. I could hear real anger in her voice.

I narrowed my eyes in a slight resistance, but I was drinking in her words like she was making me a promise. I wanted her attention on me, engaged with me. I didn't want to be something to evaluated, to be looked at from a distance; I wanted to be something she cherished. This feeling had grown on me slowly over our time together; it started out as little spurts of joy when she was happy with me, little aches for her attention even if it was in chastisement. I wanted to be all she was focused on, especially when we were alone in her dungeon.

She was already what I thought about most during my waking hours.

She pulled away, straightening up. After a pause, as if expecting me to act out again, she walked gracefully behind me. I looked up to watch the tube beginning to descend towards me. Only then did it occur to me that this was odd, that usually we played out some scenario, she toyed with me and made me writhe with pleasure long before she called the machine.

I again felt confused and began trying to turn around to see her, to try to understand what she was doing. What had changed? What was wrong?

A crack sounded and I bucked forward with another gasp. Her crop had gotten me again - hard - making me stop attempting to look around.

"Open up," my mistress commanded, coming around to my front again, my mask in her hands. I opened my mouth obediently, no longer wishing to irritate her, I could tell that my attempts to goad a reaction from her were doing nothing to keep her from whatever she had planned.

She had often kept me surprised and unaware in our time together. This was the first time she wasn't delighted in showing me what she was going to do to me, in playing with me.

The small tube was inserted in my mouth and the mask secured around my head. My mistress quickly clicked the larger, hanging tube in place. I briefly wondered at how used to this I had become, so ready to begin this odd pleasure.

I felt soft hands run down my face and cup my chin.

"I am sorry, Dearest, for being sharp. I know I usually ensure we have some fun before this part. But we are on a schedule, and you, my dear, are behind." She rubbed my skin, comforting me. She was back in control. "This will be enjoyable enough, I promise. It's just going to be... a real push for you."