Fiction: Cell Phone Slave Part Eight

Amaya was topless in her room. The packages she bought last night were strewn all over Helen’s old bed. She used Helen’s old desk as a sort of kitchen, plugging in appliances and setting up dishes. Earlier, she had picked up some microwave food from the corner store and she was now having a hot lunch in the privacy of her room.

College life was good.

Waking up had been even better. A solid night of sleep had made a new woman out of Amaya. She delighted in changing her clothes without having to hide behind a closet door. Amaya made a silent prayer that Housing never found another roommate for her.

Morning classes had been a breeze and Amaya only had one more class today. She sat in her room reading a textbook but really waiting for the phone. Chris still hadn’t called but then, she didn’t have Helen’s answering machine either. She debated buying an answering machine but she didn’t want to make another trip to the mall and maybe miss Chris’s call. Amaya resolved to go buy one after her English composition class.

In the meantime, Amaya was enjoying being naked. It was strange. Even living at home, Amaya had rarely been naked. Her parents didn’t believe a child ever needed to keep there door close and she certainly didn’t feel comfortable enough to sleep naked. In past few days, Wesley had stripped Amaya several times but this was different. This was her choice. Wearing only her thong, Amaya felt decadent and comfortable.

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Well, not too comfortable. She was still a little worried about the photograph the Dean had received. It had been taken while Rick and Helen were asleep and it appears to have been taken at night. That was a bit disturbing. Granted, obeying orders from a man who likes to put her in a cage is a little odd, but sneaking into her room is just creepy. Amaya didn’t think Wesley was the dangerous type, but you never know, right? She resolved to be more careful with him.

The phone rang and Amaya’s smiled. Finally! She was halfway to the dorm phone before she realized that it wasn’t ringing. It had been her cell phone. Amaya hesitated but then answered.

“Hello. I take it you are enjoying having a room to yourself?”

“Very much so,” Amaya said. At the sound of his voice, her reserve melted away. He did things to her stomach, good things. His southern accent washed over her and comforted her fears. A psycho wouldn’t sound that calm and warm, would he?

“Look outside your door,” Wesley instructed.

Amaya went to her door and cracked the door. There was a box outside. Since she was still topless, she bent down and pulled the box inside without exposing herself. It was a shame she was naked, she would have loved to look down the hall and see who was outside if anyone.

“I have the box,” She said.

“Open it and hurry, your class starts in half an hour,” Wesley instructed.

She frowned but opened the box. Wesley always knew a little bit more than what she was comfortable with. Shrugging, she opened the box and found a black bra inside. It wasn’t the most threatening thing she ever saw.

“It’s a bra. Want me to put it on?” Amaya said.

Wesley chuckled. “Look inside it first.”

She turned the bra over and gasped. Both cups on the bra were pierced with dozens of tiny tacks. The metal pins stood out against the dark material and gave it a sinister appearance. The cups themselves were stiff from some sort of cardboard filler between the cloths of the bra. She could feel the heads of the tacks through the material and she understood that her breast wouldn’t push out the tacks.

The earlier fears surged back into her. “There’s no way I can wear this,” Amaya said. “It would rip me up.”

“Nonsense,” Wesley said smoothly in that Southern accent Amaya loved so much. “It’s the same trick people do when they lie on a bed of nails. Oh, it will hurt. It will hurt a lot. But it will not pierce your lovely tits.”

Amaya swallowed hard. He just said she had lovely tits. Sure, most guys call any tits lovely but it was different coming from Wesley. It didn’t feel like flattery, just a statement of fact. On the other hand, it didn’t change the fact that the bra was filled with tacks.

Wesley sighed. “I see we have met your limit. Well, I am disappointed. Few come this far, but then you are young.”

“Wait a minute,” Amaya interjected and then wondered why. It was reasonable to quit now. She had plenty of money, she didn’t have Helen any more and what he was asking was insane. If she didn’t stop at a bra loaded with tacks, when would she stop? There was also the matter of his sneaking into her room. Still, with all those logical, perfectly reasonable arguments, Amaya couldn’t bring herself to stop. She remembered how good her orgasm was in the cage and her sex flushed with heat. Maybe she should at least try this? She could always quit if it was too much.

“I’ll try it,” Amaya said.

“Hurry up then,” Wesley said.

Amaya swallowed hard and put down the phone. The tacks gleamed in the light. She debated how to do it, trying to figure out some way to make all the tacks pressed on her tits equally. The problem was, she was too well endowed. Her bust was large and the sag was unavoidable. She tried putting the bra on from the bottom and the tacks bit into her flesh. She whimpered as she lifted the bra onto her and when she tried to snap it behind her back, she cried out as the tacks fastened down on her poor flesh.

“It’s on,” she choked out. The phone was shaking in her hand.

“What does it feel like?” Wesley asked.

“It hurts,” Amaya said and she was surprised by the whine in her voice. “It’s like pinpricks all over my breasts. God, it hurts a lot.”

“Hmmmm,” Wesley said. “Why don’t you come to your window so I can see?”

Despite the pain, Amaya’s heart jumped. He was outside? Her excitement was chilled by the idea that any one would be able to see her at her window. The sun was bright today and any one could see her.

“Okay,” Amaya said. It was worth the risk. She walked over to her window and pulled the shade. Pain lanced through her tits as she bent over and tugged. Bright sunlight filled the room and she shielded her eyes. Amaya was about to take a step back when Wesley interrupted her.

“No, stand right there by the window. You are very lovely in your red thong.”

Amaya blushed and resisted the urge to cover her crotch. She stayed perfectly still as her eyes scanned the windows and grounds for Wesley. There were two guys standing in their dorm across from her and Amaya blushed harder as she saw them spot her. She averted her eyes from them and kept looking. She saw a few other people in their dorms but none of them were looking at her. A few people were outside but they were walking to their cars. She had no idea where Wesley could be, unless he was in one of those cars and she just couldn’t see him.

When she looked back at the first room, she saw that a larger crowd of guys had gathered.

“Damn,” Amaya whispered. “There are some boys staring at me.”

Wesley laughed. “Then it’s a good thing you have your bra on. Display yourself for me. Put your right hand behind your head.”

“Oh god,” Amaya moaned. She did as he commanded and it felt like every tack clamped down harder on her breast. The pain was intense but not unbearable. It was just so strange to be feeling pain on her tits. It made them feel swollen and twice as large.

“You may close your window now,” Wesley said. Amaya wasted no time. She yanked the shade down while avoiding any eye contact with the large group of guys across the way. Moving caused new areas of her breasts to be pricked and stabbed but she had to get that shade down. Those guys had enough of a peek show today.

“You’ll be wearing the bra for the next hour my brave girl,” Wesley said. “If you thought the cage was a test of your patience, this will be a test of your endurance.”

“I guess I’ll be skipping class then,” Amaya joked.

“Oh no,” Wesley said. “I will not have your classes suffer because of me. You will get dressed and attend your class like a good student. I will call you with a text message when your hour is up. If you skip class, you forfeit the game.”

Amaya bit her lip. This was it? Going to class while in pain? Once again it wasn’t what she expected. He just wanted her to suffer for an hour. Common sense would say this is a perfect time to stop before she got really hurt. However, Amaya couldn’t bring herself to disappoint Wesley. It was like he expected her to quit and Amaya would have expected him to try to sweet talk her into this. For some reason, she had a deep urge to prove herself to Wesley no matter how insane this was.

“All right,” Amaya said. “I’ll need to hang up now and get dressed if I’m going to make it to class on time.”

Was it her imagination or was there a sigh of relief from Wesley? Perhaps this time, Amaya surprised him. She glowed with momentary pride.

“Good luck today,” Wesley said and there was no mistaking the tone of excitement in his voice. “I’ll be watching.”

He hung up. Amaya was beaming with pride. He HAD expected her to quit! Amaya laughed and then winced as the tacks bit into her bouncing breasts. Fuck, they hurt!

Amaya still had to get dressed. For a top, she picked a very loose black t-shirt. It made her look shapeless but she was grateful that the shirt didn’t add any extra pressure to her tits. She picked a pair of jeans and found that putting them on was an exercise in pain. Bending over was terribly painful and even snapping them shut agitated her poor pricked breasts.

She skipped taking her backpack and instead just carried her book and a notebook. There was no way she was going to wear something with a strap today. Amaya locked up her room and headed for the stairs.

The stairs were an ordeal. Every step made her jiggle and every jiggle made the tacks bite down. Amaya walked slowly but there was no avoiding the jolt of each step. She gripped her books tightly as every step wracked her poor tits.

Outside was easier and harder at the same time. There were no longer the sudden movements of the steps but walking on solid ground presented its own problems. Amaya had never realized how much she jiggled when she walked. She also hadn’t realized how much her hips moved either. The pressure on her chest kept shifting, jabbing and poking her breasts from new angles.

She got to class and nearly collapsed into her chair. Her tits were on fire. Amaya set up her notebook and realized that writing was going to compress her breasts. She simply sat there, her notebook open but her pencil still on the desk. It was taking all her willpower not to jump up and run to the nearest bathroom to strip off this damn bra. The notes could fucking wait.

The professor gave his lecture and Amaya tried so hard to pay attention. It was impossible. Every breath she took seemed to agitate the tacks. When the professor instructed the class to turn to a certain page in their books, Amaya bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out as she complied. She couldn’t move without feeling pain and sitting perfectly still only made her more aware of the stinging pricks all over her tits.

The worse part was between her thighs. Amaya was wet and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why. There was no denying that her thong was soaked and she ached to reach between her legs and get some relief. It made so little sense. How could she possibly be turned on by this amount of pain?

She had her answer when her phone buzzed. Fresh pain lanced her tits as she fished her phone out of her pocket. Wesley had called and he left this message-

“Good work. I am so proud of you! Tomorrow I will give you a special treat for today’s work.”

Amaya was smiling. He was proud of her! It was a test after all. The bra stabbed her tits when she put her phone up but she took the new pain gladly. Wesley had doubted her and she had proved him wrong. Amaya couldn’t stop smiling though the new surge of moisture between her thighs did make her sigh with need. She was so fucking herself when she got back to her room!

The class ended and Amaya stood up too quickly. The tacks stabbed her chest but she didn’t care. She had to get back to her room. The class was too slow in leaving and Amaya winced every time someone pressed against her. She wanted to cover her chest and protect her poor sore tits. Instead, she had to act like everything was normal and cover her discomfort when people jostled her.

She got outside and heard her name called. Amaya looked around and saw Chris sitting near the door to the building. He had a soda and his backpack sitting on the ground. He waved her over.

“There you are,” Chris said. “I saw you go in an hour ago and thought I would wait for you.”

Amaya was flattered. Heck, she was tickled. She sat down with him, working extra hard not to let any emotion show as the tacks reasserted their grip on her tormented tits. Luckily, he seemed to be looking at her tits more than he was her face. Amaya wondered once again if he was Wesley and if he knew exactly what was going on under her t-shirt.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called but I’ve been catching up on homework,” Chris said.

“Same here,” Amaya said. Well, homework of a unique kind.

“I had a great time with you at the movies. Are you busy tomorrow night?”

Amaya almost answered no but then realized that she really didn’t know. Did she? Wesley promised a great reward but he didn’t specify when or where. Then again, there was always the possibility that Chris was Wesley and this was the reward. She groaned with annoyance. Just once she would love to know what was going on from day to day!

Chris laughed at her groan. “Got something planned?”

She seized that idea. “Yeah, I got a paper to write that night.” She can ask Wesley tomorrow if she could have a night off for Chris. “How about Wednesday night?”

He nodded and his blue eyes sparkled. “That would be cool. Let’s have dinner at six. I’ll come by and pick you up.”

Amaya had to fight from grinning like an idiot. “That’ll be great.”

Chris stood up so Amaya did too. Without any warning, he touched her face and bent down for a kiss. Amaya sighed and leaned into his kiss. His lips pressed hard against her and she was surprised by his passion. The sexual energy of the past hour was enflamed by his kiss and Amaya kissed him just as hard back.

So caught up was she in the kiss that she didn’t notice his hand until it was on her breast. She had a split second of terror before he squeezed her tit. The solid construction of the bra stopped him from squeezing too hard but what little force he did exert was unbearable. The tacks shrunk in around her breast, pinching, pricking and biting her already tender skin. Amaya moaned as the pain overwhelmed her but Chris kept kissing her. In fact, he moaned with her.

“Well,” he said when he finally broke the kiss. His hand was gone and Amaya was in a daze. Her breast throbbed with pain but she was also a little light headed from the kiss. It was simply amazing.

“Call me?” she said.

Chris nodded. “Have a good day.”

Amaya smiled. “I will.”

That was it. Chris walked away, taking his backpack and drink with him. Amaya stood for a moment in a daze. Her breast was throbbing with pain but it was clouded by the fury in Chris’s kiss. He was obviously aroused and she couldn’t help connect that to her bra. He had to know, right?

Amaya returned to her dorm. The stinging of the bra never ceased. After an hour, Amaya would have expected to be used to it by now but the opposite was true. Her breasts were sore, pricked and abused beyond her endurance. She walked without thinking. She climbed the stairs without any memory of doing so. Her entire being was centered on her chest and that cruel bra.

Another manilla envelope waited for her in her room. It was on the floor and Amaya could only hope that it had been slid under the door. Inside were nine hundred dollars in twenties. The money was secondary to the note however. Amaya read it quickly, eager to see what Wesley had to say.

“Amaya,

You have endured a terrible test today. Keep in mind that more fearsome tests are yet to come. I am delighted with you today and I don’t mind telling you that you made my cock very hard today. As a reward for your dedication, I will let you handle my cock tomorrow. Be at the Jackson building at seven P.M. tomorrow.

Wesley”

Holy shit. Wesley had promised her his cock! Amaya actually did a delighted jump for joy and paid for it seconds later as the bra clamped down on her bouncing breasts.

Wincing, Amaya slowly took off her shirt. Pain lanced through her breasts as she reached behind her back to unfasten the bra. A great relief washed over her as she removed the bra. The pricks were gone, that sense of being crushed in the sharp jaws of a beast faded away. Her breasts were still tender and sore but it was the soreness that came from the removal of pain.

Red marks covered every inch of her breasts. The majority of the marks were these curious indentions where the tacks had pushed into her soft flesh. Spotted here and there were small scratches were the tacks had been more severe with her skin. There was a miniscule amount of blood with some of the scratches but for the most part, her tits were unharmed.

Amaya looked at her chest in the mirror. She was a little taken back by how red she was. It looked as cruel as it had felt. Her left breast, where Chris had squeezed it, looked twice as swollen. The sight of her tortured breasts only reinforced how ruthlessly they had been used today.

She fell back on her bed and sighed. Her lips were still tender from that fierce kiss Chris had given her but Amaya was still thinking about Wesley’s letter. She thought about his promise and she wondered how he would let her ‘handle’ it. Did he want a handjob? Was he going to fuck her? What about a blowjob? Amaya squirmed as the erotic possibilities ran through her mind. Best of all, she was finally going to meet Wesley and find out if he was Chris!

Did she really excite Wesley that much just by wearing that bra? Amaya almost understood. The tacks were painful and only a nut would wear something like that. Amaya was proud of herself for surviving the bra and playing the game, and she could see how Wesley was proud of himself too. He had made her wear that nasty bra, and she had worn it just for him. It was proof that she was in his power, far more proof than just taking his money.

God, she was wet. Amaya wiggled out of her jeans and pulled the soaked thong off as well. She ran her fingers over her sex and moaned at the sensations. Wesley was going to fuck her tomorrow, but she also needed it now.

Amaya took out her vibrator and plunged the purple toy into her sex. Her toes instantly curled. She pumped the toy inside her self, relishing the idea that she was using Wesley’s gift to fuck. It was his chosen proxy; his choice to fuck her with. Soon, she would be able to compare this toy to the real thing.

The bliss of orgasm was fast approaching but there was something missing. Amaya was thrilled that she was meeting Wesley tomorrow and she was feeling very wanton. Just masturbating wasn’t enough. She wanted to seal this victory somehow. She wanted a victory lap. Amaya wanted to celebrate that she had finally won the elusive Wesley over.

She smiled and sat up. The vibrator still clenched in her sex, she stood up and got the tack bra from where she dropped it. In her aroused state of mind, it was the only solution that made sense. She picked up the bra and put it back on.

It hurt twice as much the second time around but to Amaya, it was just what she needed. The tacks pinched and bit her breasts as she returned to her bed. Lying down relieved some of the pressure but it still hurt like Hell. Amaya gripped her vibrator again and winced as her arms pushed against her bra. Perfect.

She masturbated with hard plunging strokes. Her breasts jiggled against the tacks but that was what Amaya was looking for. She wanted the bra to hurt her while she fucked herself. The bra had gotten her Wesley and she took the pain as one would accept a medal. It made her proud and being proud made her very wet.

In and out the vibrator plunged. Amaya’s hips rose to meet the vibrator, which of course only agitated the tacks even further. As proud as she was of the pain she could endure, even Amaya had to sometimes slow down and let her body process what was happening. Waiting for the pain to subside was another form of torture as her anxious pussy throbbed and demanded to be fucked. The vibrator buzzed in anticipation while Amaya rode the pain out.

Eventually Amaya’s sex could wait no longer. The pain in her tits escalated as she fucked her sex faster and harder. Amaya turned her head and bit down on her pillow to keep from screaming out. Her body screamed for her, clenching down hard before exploding into a sweet orgasm that rocked her all over. Amaya twitched and kicked as pleasure overtook her, transforming even the pain on her breasts into just another kinky detail.

Amaya gasped when the orgasm was over. Her tits hurt worse without the arousal to cloud it so she sat up and quickly popped the bra back off. She fell back onto her pillow and enjoyed the afterglow.

The best part was that she knew this would be nothing compared to what was promised for tomorrow.