Being Cuntface

Disclaimer -- this is a work of fiction, a mosaic of fantasies and multiple online sessions with multiple dom(mes). If you recognize your work, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

*

I sat down in front of the computer with a bit of trepidation. It was time for the weekly Saturday morning session with Ozzy. My mind was already drifting into subspace as I looked at the package that he sent me. It was still sealed, but something in it jingled. I had my laptop booted, the microphone hooked up, and camera was active. I sat and waited for him to log on. Sometimes I wondered if he purposely delayed logging in to drive home that I waited at his convenience. I smiled as I saw his name appear.

"Hello Cuntface," he whispered in my ear.

"Cuntface is glad to see you Sir. She has the box." Ozzy demanded that I always refer to myself in the third person as the last name that he assigned me. It was always something humiliating, and reminded me of my status. I hated the name "Cuntface," so he enjoyed making me use it. Banning me from using the words "me," "my," "I" and so forth drove me deeper under his control.

"Open the package. You'll find smaller boxes inside. Put box #1 in your bathroom medicine cabinet. Box #2 goes in the basement. Go."

I quickly opened the package. I saw two small boxes, about the size that would hold a ring. There were so many random items left in the large package. They may have been put in just to throw me off or get me wondering. However, he might have a plan for each and every one of them. I scampered to put the small boxes where directed, and I started to wonder. Were the remaining items in the package random? Were they there just to throw me off? Did he have a plan for each and every one of them? I felt my heart pounding as I returned. Was from the scurrying, or was it was nerves?

"Cuntface is back Sir."

He snickered. "Lube up the butt plug. Slide it in."

I looked through the package and found the large black phallus. Along its 5" of length, the rubber penis grew from its rounded tip to over 2" across at its widest, and then tapered down to a 1" neck before blooming into a wide flange. The flange thankfully stopped over-insertion, but the idea of that sheer mass inside my ass was daunting. I realized that decision was already made; it was my job just to do it. I squirted a bit of lube onto the fake penis. I forced a smile into the web cam as I finger painted to spread the clear goo, lubricating the surface to a shine.

I was on sub-space autopilot as I unfastened my jeans, dropping them with my panties to my knees. I bent over, making sure that Ozzy had a nice view of my ass. My mind was a swirling cauldron of emotions of submission, humiliation, excitement and fear. I lined up the plug like I had done for smaller plugs before. I started to push it in, and held it in place with my hand as I tried to push it out with my ass. This puckered my anal lips. When I stopped trying to force it out, my ass sucked the plug in a bit. I repeated holding it in place while trying to force it out. When I stopped, it sucked a bit more. Once it was teased halfway in I held it in place and stood up. I slowly and carefully squatted on my seat. With a lot of groans, I slowly lowered myself onto the massive invader, the plug filling my ass more and more as I descended. A gasp escaped my lips as my sphincter finally grasped the neck of the black beast.

I panted out, "It's in Sir."

He smirked an amused, "Show it off to me Cuntface."

I got up and bent over, giving the webcam a clear view of the base of the plug sticking out of my ass.

He asked "How does it feel?"

"Master, it feels like a telephone pole is up there! It's even bigger than the fearsome speculum at the ob/gyn office!"

"Does Cuntface want to fuck herself with the butt plug?"

My first thought was "God no!" Thankfully my mind realized that the unspoken alternative was doubtlessly worse before words left my lips. I faked a smile with a, "Yes Sir. Cuntface would love to fuck herself up the ass with the plug you graciously provided Sir. May Cuntface please fuck herself Sir?"

"Oh yeah. Make me proud."

I pulled the plug partway out, groaning as the widest part of the plug forced my sphincter wide apart again. Then I had to ram it home again and again. With every thrust I remembered that Master was watching, smiling at my distress, and getting hard. I was doing this all for him.

"Look at the cam, and tell me how much you're loving this Cuntface."

I started running commentary between the grunts of my thrusting. "Oh yes Sir! Thank you for allowing me to fuck myself with this massive cock Sir! Cuntface loves to take large rubber dicks up her ass Sir! The larger it is, the better it trains Cuntface's ass for your glory Sir!" I kept on with a monologue, my head deep into the one thought that matters -- pleasing him. The ache in my ass didn't matter; it was a means to the end.

After what felt like half an hour of anal torment but might have been only five minutes, Sir finally said, "That's enough Cuntface. Leave it in and add a support rope to make sure there's no escape attempt. By the way, that video capture was exquisite."

I blushed, and dutifully picked up the rope. I wrapped it around my waist, and tied it securely, leaving the loose end dangling down from my crotch like a wimpy imitation penis. This loose end was pulled through my crotch, and over the waist rope in back. As only half of the loose rope was used, I went to loop it over the front waist rope.

Master demanded, "Oh no Cuntface. Yank on it! Feel it burying that butt plug deep in your ass!"

I started tugging on the rope, with Sir goading me on. I yanked. I pulled, each time heaving a gasp or groan from the plug worming its way deep into my exhausted ass.

"That will do Cuntface. Now spiral the rope around the first two passes. Over the waist rope in back, and then spiral the other way to make a nice fat rope."

As I wrapped the rope per his directions, I dutifully thanked him for allowing me to please him this way. Of course, bending over with a butt-plug shoved up your ass is an experience -- when bending at the waist, the plug doesn't bend much. It forces my butt to conform to it, not vice versa. I felt thoroughly stuffed.

"Now go on your exercise bike. You can be off in fifteen minutes if you go fast enough to please me."

I stood up with another groan from the plug. I waddled over to the bike, setting up my laptop between the handlebars. I sat down, and realized that the bike seat and thick rope focused all my weight on the damned plug. I had to get off this soon! I started pedaling with gusto. With each half revolution of the pedal, I could feel my body trying to grind itself deeper onto the plug. My exertion had me sweating as I worked so hard to get my ass looking like some enormous crater. With Sir snickering, I pedalled on. I looked at the time -- I still had five minutes to go. My sphincter was signalling defeat, but I knew that asking to be relieved of this task would only have it replaced by something more strenuous.

"Faster Cuntface! Or I'll add more time!"

I redoubled my effort, picking up the pace to work this massive plug deeper into me. I worried about it going so deep it would poke into my heart or burst out of my chest.

"OK Cuntface! That's enough biking. I want you in Second Life."

I gasped, "Yes Sir. Thank you Sir." I got off the bike, and my sore ass cried as my weight shifted. I hobbled back to my desk, still bent over. My body didn't want to straighten up. I was exhausted and plopped into the computer chair. My weight hit, suddenly thrusting the plug deep into my ass. I howled, "Auugghh!! Oh fuck! My ass! Oh!"

Ozzy barked "CUNTFACE!"

I snapped back. "Yes Master?" I panted.

"I didn't tell you curses were acceptable behavior!"

"No Master. Sorry Master."

"And you used a banned word! Actions have consequences. Get the panties and tape out of the box."

I looked up at what I typed, and I had indeed said "my" - a first person pronoun to him. I earned whatever punishment amused him. Bending over to reach the box on the floor next to the chair elicited a deep groan from my lips. I leaned over, but the butt-plug stays where it is. The plug does not conform to me, but it forced me to conform to its size and shape. Massive butt plugs are not an "out of sight, out of mind" thing for the wearer. I nervously picked a zip lock bag with what must be pink panties and the roll of clear tape. I opened the bag and a stench started to fill the air. My god this woman stinks!

Master saw my facial expression and grinned. "Well, two weeks ago, I was playing with a slut online. I dumped her to be with you as soon as you came online. She wasn't happy, so I offered her revenge. She stunk up a pair of panties as much as she could just for you. Exercising, wiping off goo after she came, the whole bit. She was only too happy to help."

I looked askance and held them with but two fingers, holding them away from me. They were clearly stained from repeated use. They'd need multiple trips through a washer before I wanted to touch them.

Master continued. "They seemed truly foul. And since you have a foul mouth, you are going to stuff those panties right on into it. As you don't want to displease me further by spitting them out, I'll helpfully allow you to tape them in place."

I looked at these panties aghast. I have no idea who this stench of a woman even is! I need to put her dirty crotch into my mouth? Just as I was about to say no, Master's words resonated in my mind. "Actions have consequences." This is a punishment for not calling myself "Cuntface" and for cursing. Remembering this will make me a better servant to Master.

I brought the panties up to my face. Oh god! They smelled like a cross between a locker room and a bordello! As if on autopilot, my mouth opened, and I stuffed the wadded up panties in. My face contorted in horror. They tasted every bit as bad as they smelled!

The panties were large enough to keep my jaw held wide open as if I was continually surprised. I quickly put a strip of the clear tape from ear to ear crossing my mouth to hold it in. Another strip went over it, just under my nose. A third strip went under it, down to the tip of my chin. I panted through my nose and gave a doe-eyed look to Master, hoping that he would relent.

I could hear the smile in his voice. "I like that look on you Cuntface. You'll be panty-gagged more often." As usual, Ozzy could see and hear me through the webcam. I was only allowed to hear him, not watch him. I nodded in reluctant understanding as my hopes for a quick release were not only squashed. Even worse is Ozzy hinted that I would have to endure this again in the future.

Ozzy continued. "Now about those tits of yours. They droop when bare, or are held in too much and concealed with a bra. I have a solution for that. Grab the shelf brackets out of the box." As I leaned over to get the brackets, the beast stretching my ass forcefully reminded me that my body must comply with it, even when I try to bend over. It was clearly in charge.

I looked and found the clear plastic L-shaped brackets. Each leg of the L was about 5" long and an inch and a half wide. Master's instructions continued, and it was as if my brain was only the messenger. He spoke, and my body moved as he commanded.

"Bend over such that your boobs are hanging straight down. Now put a bracket right at the base of a tit. Snug it right in there Cuntface. That's good. Now wrap a loop of tape around the base of your tit to hold it in place. Nice and snug. Tighter Cuntface!"

. "Now start to spiral down that titty. Keep it just as tight!" His instructions kept on as I cinched my boob in, bonding it with the bracket. I felt the compression of the tape urging my boob to be narrower, and anything lost in girth was added to length. My boob started to throb and the end of it swelled swell as blood was trapped by the snug tape band that crept ever further toward my nipple.

Ozzy practically cooed as he watched. "Oh yes. All the way down. Everything but your nipple. That stays bare. Nice Cuntface. And now do the other tit, just as tight." mI started wrapping the other one, almost treasuring the peeling sound as the tape left the roll, and the feeling of unrelenting compression and throbbing in my boobs.

"OK. Now stand and show off your work."

When upright, I saw what Master had done. My breasts jutted out like a pair of obscene torpedoes that were bursting forth from my chest in a display of wanton lust, just desperately begging for any attention. What just a few minutes ago were mammary glands that nature intended to feed infants had been transformed into a fetishist's wet dream.

Master snickered. "Good! They look properly needy. Tell Master how your tits feel."

"They are throbbing a bit from the pressure Sir, and their weight is not supported the best Sir. Cuntface can handle it for a little while."

"OK. Take the tape, and run a strip from your right shoulder, between your boobs, under your left boob, and then up to your armpit. Repeat on the other side. I want your titties jutting straight out Cuntface."

I complied, peeling and sticking tape to wind up with a transparent W shape adorning my chest to support my enhanced cleavage. "Thank you Master. It is more comfortable Master."

"Good! That will be your bra for today."

My eyes shot wide open. "But Master! Cuntface needs to go to her nephew's high school graduation today Sir!"

Master burst out laughing. "Oh! I couldn't have planned it better! This is perfect! You'll be wondering if the teenagers are staring at you because of your impressive bustline or if they are staring at you because you are too self-conscious! Oh Cuntface! I am SO looking forward to your report!"

I looked down at my boobs straining to reach out to him, and realized the more that I tried to negotiate or try to get him to change his mind, the more he would enjoy my mental torment. Much as I thought my boobs were forced to look obscene, I also knew this just goaded him on.

"Now Cuntface, the chair you are in looks too comfortable. I know you have a metal folding chair. Go get it, and keep your jeans around your ankles."

I stood up gasped as the plug up my ass shifted. While dutifully trudged down the hall to the closet to get the chair, I felt like a chastised kid who couldn't even pull up her own jeans. I carried the chair back, set it up, and sat down oh so carefully. The plug still slid deeper in me as it settled onto the multi-layer cord holding it in place.

At Master's direction, I looped the middle of a long piece of rope around my ankles again and again. I laid out the six loops were made, all laid out neatly. I then looped one end between my ankles around the middle of the six strands to cinch all of the ropes to their proper snugness. Not too tight, but secure. I then knotted it a few times to ensure it didn't loosen. There was still a lot of rope left over.

"OK, now snake the ends of the rope up the legs of your jeans. Do a similar knot in the crotch of the jeans -- doesn't need to be snug, just to make sure the rope stays there."

I duly threaded the rope up, and made a show of knotting the rope together again and again, pulling it tight each time.

"OK, now pull up your jeans."

I smiled I heard this. I could get dressed and not be as exposed! I immediately stood up, pulled up my jeans and buckled my belt before he changed his mind. I realized that sitting down gets my jeans out of his sight, and hopefully out of mind! I sat down quickly, and the massive beast in my ass that called itself a butt plug thrust hard up my ass! I gasped and started panting,

Master chuckled. "Oh, Cuntface! I love what that does to your boobs! Quite nice to watch! Well done! Now grab the luggage lock, and lock it through one belt hole, and lock that belt hole to the buckle." I knew Ozzy was enjoying watching me do his will. At times I wondered if he was stroking himself as we played.

I duly complied, and as the lock clicked shut I realized the lock prevented me from untying my ankles. I would need to hop wherever I needed to go. The key to this lock was just across the hall on my dresser -- it shouldn't be bad to hop that far.

"You know Cuntface; I enjoyed seeing you plop on the chair. The gasping, panting, the way it made your boobs bobble, the whole package." I could picture him smiling at me as he paused, which made me nervous. "So let's go into Second Life. Whenever anyone else calls you by name, I want you to stand up and plop down on the chair again. Plop as hard as you want me to be. Make me proud."

Second Life is like an online chat room with videos of avatars. People come to socialize and improve how their avatar looks. Most people type to socialize, but some use voice. I usually spoke, but as my mouth was stuffed with an obscene panty rag, I would need to type.

We entered the game, appearing in some chairs surrounding a busy nightclub. Immediately someone greeted us. "Hi Ozzy! Hi Cuntface!"

I stood up, and plopped right back down. The feeling was so intense! The chair pounded the plug like a hammer hitting a nail. At the same time, my innards were still coming down, impaling themselves on the infernal ass stuffer. My ass rippled up, involuntarily squishing my ass around the plug. My boobs flopped onto their thin, rigid supports and jiggled in their tape cocoons.

I had my avatar lounge on Master's lap like a playboy bunny. People kept coming in. I started to dread their greetings.

Someone named NJ came in, cheerfully greeting us through text on our screens. "Hi Ozzy! Hi Cuntface!" This forced me to do another anal assault. I clenched down on the disgusting rag as my plopping down thrust the plug deeper into my own ass. NJ asked "Cuntface, are you OK?"

The first thought that went through my head was, "I would be so much better of you stopped calling me by name!" Instead I buried that thought with another plop onto my hard chair. I bit down hard on the disgusting panties as the plug was pounded into my ass. I tried to be pleasant with my response "Yes. Cuntface is doing fine."

"I'm hearing the hint of a grunt or shriek every time I say anything to you Cuntface."

Mentally I started cursing her out. Remembering that this is what got me into this mess, I dutifully stood, and plopped hard onto the chair, hoping that Master was enjoying the show in the webcam. I tried not to howl into the gag, but it was such a painfully sudden thrust each time. "Yes Miss. Cuntface has a task she must do when people call her by name."

"Oh? What does Cuntface have to do when people call you Cuntface?"

Damn it! Why won't this lady leave me alone? I stood, and plopped into my chair, blowing the air out of my lungs. I was panting through my nose, nostrils starting to flare. I started typing, and realized she said my name twice. I stood again, and plopped down on the hard chair helplessly obeying Master's orders. My ass hurt so much! I hoped that Master would distract her away and have mercy on my ass. I cringed as I resumed typing, blushing a bit as I explained my situation. "Cuntface has a large butt plug in her ass. She must stand and plop down on a chair whenever people say her name."

"Oh Cuntface? Does it hurt?"

Why does this woman keep after me? I plopped down again, feeling my sphincter crying out. I stifled a whimper, and typed my response. "Yes Miss. It feels larger and deeper when Cuntface plops down. It is very tough on her ass. Please have mercy on her."

"Well, Cuntface, this is how I see it. Some whore named Cuntface is tying to steal my man, and I have the power to have her fuck herself up her own ass whenever I say 'Cuntface'."

My eyes went wide. But Ozzy was my Master! I wasn't trying to steal him from anyone! I stood up and plopped down, wincing in pain as the plug went deeper. I forced myself to stand again and fell onto my ass, feeling it cry out and my boobs bobble on their prongs. I whimpered and sobbed into NJ's used panties. That bitch said my name again, so I plopped down a third time.