Bunny and the Big Board
CHAPTER THREE — “FETISH GIRL”
Days passed, and then weeks. Melissa knew she was going through some changes.
First of all, discounting the huge breasts that rode high on her chest, she was in the best shape of her young life. Many of her meals were little more than a thin broth, and she was compuslively exercising three or four times a day—anything to stave off her horrible need.
Secondly, although she still desperately wanted to escape, she found herself concentrating on that idea less and less. There was no way out of the room, that was clear enough. The door never opened, and nobody ever tried to contact her. She was sure there was a person on the other side of her food slot, but they never made their presence known. She was completely trapped. And it was so hard to concentrate, with this constant desire.
That was change number three. In the daytime, the television blared with nonstop porn. Melissa could close her eyes, but she couldn’t help but hear the moans and grunts, which served as a constant reminder that she could be just as contented as the woman in the movie, more so even, if she would just obey the screen.
The screen, the vile screen...the things it made her do were bizarre and upsetting. First of all, she always had to dress up, usually in some specific outfit that the screen identified with a number, and always with some kind of high-heeled footwear. She always had to be fully made-up, too, and she knew from experience that just a little blush and lipstick wouldn’t do the job...she had to get the full slut look going. Her whole body, from her neck down, had to be completely hairless; she had learned how to shave her own pussy in this dungeon.
She had penetrated herself in every conceivable way—butt plugs were now an occasional requirement—but more often than not, the screen commanded her to fill her mouth. At first, when she was giving one of her toys her best blowjob, she would supplement that by playing with one of her sensitive nipples or her engorged clit. Now, when the screen told her to fuck her own pussy or ass, she found herself bringing along an extra dildo for some oral play. She couldn’t help herself; she just loved the way it felt to thrust a hard phallus in and out of her wet mouth. She’d even taught herself, with the help of some particularly nasty pornography, the delicate art of deep throating.
One afternoon, Melissa had found herself in a panic. She was lying in bed, totally naked except for a pair of red high-heeled boots, a lot of makeup, and some dangly earings; her hair, now less boyishly short than when she arrived, was slicked back; and her left arm was draped across those insane breasts, holding them up between her elbow and hand, so her right hand could get some resistance as it plunged Dildo #14 between her cleavage. She was doing everything to the letter of the screen’s instructions, but she just couldn’t get there. She fucked her own tits for a frustrating half-hour, crying towards the end. Finally she gave up, tossing the dildo aside.
“What am I doing wrong?!” she demanded at the empty room. She was still horny, so she reached down to her crotch for at least a little relief. That’s when she felt it—stubble! Not much...you couldn’t even see it...but it was there. She dashed to the bathroom, applied her lotion, and shaved herself clean, faster than she had ever done before but taking care not to cut herself. Then she raced back to bed, grabbed the dildo, and picked up where she left off. The gratification was immediate. While she watched the head of the fake cock appear and disappear between her giant boobs, Melissa vowed that from now on, she would shave her pussy every single day, even if it looked clean.
The next morning, Melissa got the message she had been dreading but expecting for some time. She knew the screen had been building up to this. She wasn’t thrilled about it, but there was no denying it now: she wanted it, bad. The euphoria that came to her when she obeyed flushed away any despair she might have felt over been kidnapped and helpless. And she had lovingly sucked on so many dildos at this point, that graduating to the real thing didn’t feel like much of a leap.
She followed her instructions nervously. She was to do this fully dressed, with a lime green tank top tightly hugging her giant tits, and a black micro-mini skirt the only thing separating her naked pussy from the world. She had five-inch green heels that matched her top—she was getting to be pretty sure of herself in heels, and had grown to enjoy wearing them. She put on big hoop earings and a bunch of clacking bracelets, and as always, made herself up to look like one of the sluts on TV. Looking at herself in the mirror, she grasped the full effect: she looked like a prostitute.
Now came the moment of truth. She looked at the three buttons on her makeup table: blue, red, and green. The blue one was flashing. Melissa bit her lip, hestitated for a few seconds, and then pressed the blue button.
In seconds, she heard the click of her front door. She raced into the bedroom in time to see the door close behind a tall, muscular man, bald and shirtless, wearing only a pair of khaki pants with a belt. She stopped in her tracks and looked at him silently. He wasn’t handsome, but he was built. And more importantly, she knew that if she sucked his dick and swallowed his cum, she would be happy.
Reluctantly, Melissa stepped forward. “Um...hi,” she offered awkwardly.
The stranger just glared at her and crossed his arms. He looked mean...maybe even angry.
“What are you going to do to me?”
No response. If anything, he seemed almost offended that she would even talk to him. Melissa shifted from one foot to the other, unsure what to do. She looked him in the eye and raised her eyebrows questioningly. He raised one eyebrow back at her.
Without another word, Melissa sank to her knees and undid the stranger’s belt. She unzipped his pants and fished out his huge member, as big as the porn stars she had been watching for so long now. She ran her hand along its underside to harden it up, and then lowered her mouth onto it.
If she hadn’t been on her knees, she might have collapsed from the sensation. Her head pumped up and down on his shaft, her big earings waving back and forth rhythmically. When her knees got tired, she adjusted herself into a crouching position, which had the secondary benefit of exposing her pussy; she fingered it while her tongue worked on the hard cock filling her mouth. Her eyes were closed, and part of her wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, that it was still just one of her toys in her mouth; but then she felt his strong hands on the back of her head, guiding her up and down, and her fantasy evaporated. She was a slut, eagerly blowing a total stranger.
That could have been a depressing thought, but instead it felt almost sexy. Melissa didn’t have time to consider the implications, because now the huge cock was pulsing, and warm cum filled her mouth. If sucking the stranger’s dick had felt intense, then there were no words to describe tasting his jizz. She let the dick slide out of her mouth while she absorbed this new sensation, her mouth still half-open. She sank against the nearest wall and plunged two fingers into her pussy. With her free hand she grabbed and mauled one giant breast. She closed her mouth, and swallowed the delicious load. “Oh, God, yes,” she moaned. Minutes later, when she opened her eyes, the man was gone. Melissa curled up in bed and cried softly to herself. In the next room, the blue button started flashing again.
Melissa pressed the blue button eight more times that day, and fell easily into a cycle: suck a dick, swallow cum, clean yourself up, press the button and do it all over again. She went through the same routine the next day, and the next; after that, the screen’s demands became less predictable.
The first time she was supposed to get fucked, she tried to play the victim. She laid on her bed, covered her eyes, and said, “Just get it over with.” But the stranger in her bedroom did nothing. “What do you want? Do you want me to beg?” No response. Finally she had pushed him onto the bed, pulled off his pants, and mounted him, moaning and mewling while she rode his cock, even placing his hands on her jugs. After that experience—which ended, per the screen’s instructions, with Melissa jacking the stranger off onto her pretty face—the young lady was far less timid.
Over the course of a week, Melissa fucked, fondled, and sucked dozens of men, loving every second of it, but especially enjoying the sensation of semen spraying inside her mouth or all over her face or tits. There were definitely repeat customers, but she never knew what kind of man would appear at her door—tall, short, big dick, small dick, handsome, ugly, unassuming, and any race you care to name.
At the end of that week, Melissa finally got a break. The screen wanted her to masturbate with two dildos, one in her mouth and another in her pussy—no problem. After a two-hour morning beauty regimen, during which she had squeezed her boobs into a kinky French maid uniform with crotchless black panties, Melissa noticed something odd: the green button on her desk console was flashing.
Instinctively, she knew that if she ignored the button, her masturbation would generate nothing more than the mild eroticism one would ordinarily expect from having ones mouth and pussy fucked. Only through complete obedience could she return those impossible peaks of pleasure to which she was now addicted. Melissa pressed the button.
Her door clicked open, but this time, awkwardly running into the bedroom on heels that were higher than even she was used to, Melissa saw no strange man at the entrance. Just the open door, and in the cold, metal-walled hallway outside, a line of green lights.
Finally, she was out of her cell. But this place was like a maze. She decided to play it safe and follow the trail of little lights. They led to an open door, but it was too bright to see inside. Melissa shielded her squinting eyes with one arm, ventured into the room, and meekly implored, “Hello?”
When her eyes adjusted, Melissa saw a plush king-sized bed with pink satin sheets. Looking more in the direction of the bright lights, she saw cameras, handheld and on tripods, with operators whose faces she could not see through the glare. Off to one side, she spotted two burly guys in black t-shirts—security, she realized, in case she tried to attack somebody here.
Her situation as hopeless as ever, Melissa slid into the center of the bed. A skinny guy wearing a headset ran up to the bed and dropped two dildos next to her. Her pussy moistening with anticipation, Melissa waited for the director to call out “action.”