Excerpts from "Breaking In: G to L" 2024 Edition by Simon Grail

 

From: Breaking in Gillian

 

He pulled Gillian onto her feet and dragged her over to the rings screwed into the ceiling beams. Now they had a pair of rope nooses dangling from them above a small stool. Beside this stood a broom handle with its lower end screwed into a plank of wood. The head of the broom handle had several sponge dishwasher pads taped over it one over the other, making a fist-sized lozenge of rubber foam.

They stood Gillian on the stool and slid the nooses over her breasts and then pulled them tight; making her breasts bulge outwards. Then they positioned the broomstick on its plank mount behind the stool and pushed its tip up into her vagina. Meanwhile, Reynard was writing on the card with the marker pen. He held it up for her to see.

MARK! IF YOU LOVE ME PLEASE SAVE ME!

How dare they presume to beg on her behalf, Gillian thought angrily as Reynard hung it over her neck! It had a longer string than the last one so that it hung on her chest just beneath the under-curves of her breasts. Then he pulled the stool out from under her feet.

Gillian dropped several centimetres as the nooses tightened about her breasts, wrenching her mammaries upwards and turning them into pink mushroom heads. Her eyes bulged and she shrieked about her gag in fear as it felt as if her breasts were being torn from her chest. Her only other support was the sponge stuffed head of the broom handle, which was driven deep up into her by her drop, making her pussy lips stretch wide while her lower belly bulged. She hung in the air dangling from the breast noose ropes with her feet kicking wildly about the impaling broomstick and her clawing toes just clear of the floor. To ease the terrible strain on her breasts she had to clench her sheath tight about the broom handle to stop herself slipping down it any further. This only made its presence inside her even more terrifying.

While Pablo filmed her writhing in mid-air, Reynard, Basil and Marian took up the bamboo canes and spread themselves out about her.

'I'm not going to ask you to condemn foxhunting or beg to be freed this time,' Reynard said, 'the sign, and your tears, will say it all. You can cum if you want, it will still look like you're suffering...'

And they beat her with their canes, leaving scarlet stripes across her back, breasts, stomach and buttocks. From front and back they slashed them up between her flailing legs to smack into soft cleft of her pussy. She shrieked and kicked wildly, yanking on her impossibly bunched up breasts while screwing herself about the bulbous tip of the broom handle. She was plugged from below and torn from above while her body was thrashed from all sides. Tears and dribble from the corners of her mouth where she was biting on her gag ran down her cheeks and dripped onto her frighteningly distended breasts that were rapidly turning purple. Some of it splattered down the card hung beneath them with her supposedly desperate plea to Mark.

In the midst of this agony, Gillian realized that her only escape was through an orgasm. As soon as she came, they would stop, because that was the climax of her suffering, however they judged it. Outwardly, it would still look like a paroxysm of desperate frenzy. Perhaps they thought Mark would think the worst. But she knew he would understand. She just had to accept the pain and humiliation and feed on it and channel it into her poor stuffed pussy that right now felt ready to split.

No! Not simply accept it, she corrected herself. She must love it!

Gillian thought of it as a monstrous penis impaling her... its spongy head soaking up their juices... getting ever wet and slippery and churning inside her while she squirmed and twisted about in its tip. She welcomed it inside her... riding its impossible hardness... clenching her thighs about it... coming over it...

Ahhhh!

Gillian thrashed about as her loins burst and fireworks seemed to explode in her brain. Then she went limp, lost in her own private world of blissful reward.

 

From: Breaking in Holly

 

It was a large well-worn wooden rocking horse set on wooden base. He had a leather saddle, stirrups and a real hair mane and tail. It might have been a traditional old toy, except that there were pistons extending up through slots in the base of the device connected to the crossbars of its rockers, a thick electric cable running up from the base into a hole in its belly, and a suspicious slot in its saddle.

They lifted Holly onto the saddle of the horse and slipped her feet into the stirrups and buckled them in place. Once she was secured, her leash was removed again, leaving the stirrups to hold her upright. She was aware of the slot of the saddle aligned with the cleft of her buttocks and the pout of her vulva.

The club men positioned themselves with their cameras ready. Some switch must have been thrown, for motors in the base of the rocking horse and its barrel shaped body came to life. It began rocking backwards and forwards, so that she had to bend in time to stay upright. The motion set her heavy breasts bobbing and swaying.

Then the tips of dildos that had been recessed in the saddle slot began to pump up into her vagina and anus. Her anal ring was stretched open by a slimmer dildo, while a fatter one parted her labia and filled her vagina, churning and vibrating relentlessly. She was doubly impaled riding on wooden rocking horse! Holly sobbed and bit on her gag and felt her cheeks burning once again with shame: horribly aware of the camera lenses of the club men all about her recording every detail of her humiliation. And yet her nipples were standing up and her juices were flowing.

Back and forth she swayed, impaled, hot and dizzy, caught in a confusion of shame in delight.

Her clit was hard and there was a film of juices seeping between the leather of the saddle and the hot flesh of the insides of her thighs. Some of her juices were seeping into the rear dildo which was in turn driving them up into her bottom. She was lubricating herself!

Then one of the clubmen swiped his electric paddle across her bobbing breasts, making her yelp and jerk in the saddle. Another swished his paddle across the back of the wooden horse so that smacked into her rump.

Holly sobbed and whimpered, twisting about in the saddle but totally unable to pull herself off the dildos or dismount, or escape the slap of flash and crackle of the paddle is as they began to beat across her torso. The blows were not that hard, but they stung the added another layer of stimulation to her torment.

She was jerking and sweating and groaning and filling with helpless excitement. She was going to cum, which was so humiliating yet also meant the end of her torment. That was good or was it bad? She couldn't tell, she couldn't stop herself...

Uhhh! Her loins exploded and the juices poured out of her and then she slumped forward across the neck of the wooden horse. She had done it!

But it was not quite over.

Mr Smite clambered onto the horse behind her. He lifted her hips off the now motionless dildos and rammed his cock up into her freshly stretched anus and pumped away, setting the horse rocking once more until his hot sperm spurted up into her entrails.

 

From: Breaking in Ingrid

 

It was another day and another training room and Ingrid sobbed as she squatted down over another weight.

Of course, she could not use her hands to pick it up. That would not have served the room's purpose. Her hands were cuffed behind her back. Nor could she use her mouth which was gagged. That only left one means of manipulating them...

'This is an exercise to increase the muscular strength of your vaginal sheath,' GB had told her. 'Mr Balik likes his girls to have tight orifices...'

It was very simple. In one corner of the room were the weights; while in the other corner was a mat to put them on. Between them was a zigzag path she had to follow while carrying them. Strips of metal spikes marked the edges of the path, discouraging any attempts at taking shortcuts. She had to go the long way to get maximum effect from each weight.

The weights were in fact bowling pins with extended necks with dildo plugs mounted on them. Ingrid squatted down over them, sliding the plugs into her vagina and then squeezed tight, gripping their ribs so she could lift it off the ground.

They were of course the usual monitor screens watching her as she shuffled along with the weight swinging between her legs. She had soon discovered the right gait and speed to move. Go too slowly and it might slip out before the end of the path, but too quickly and she started cracking it against her ankles and knees and might pull it out that way.

'Hold it tight... hold it tight... don't let it go,' Balik berated her out of the watching screens as the weight swung like a pendulum between her legs, churning its head deep in her straining vagina.

But finally, after almost an hour, she had transported all the weights across the room.

She sank to her knees, aching inside and dripping but oddly elated. But her relief did not last long.

'Now take them back again,' Balik said.

With a sob, she complied.

As time passed, she became her own worst enemy, of course. The more weights she transported the wetter she became inside, while their dildo heads were covered with her juices. Her pussy was aching with the strain as well and it became harder to keep hold of them and she began dropping them. That only got her punished.

There was an articulated, sprung and powered metal arm with a cane on its end that extended out over the winding pathway across the room. If she dropped a weight she had to stand straight while it swiped the cane across her bare breasts, leaving them crisscrossed with scarlet stripes while she sobbed in pain. And then she had to pick up the fallen weight and continue.

She was allowed a drink of water every hour to make up for the sweat pouring out of her. It came from a feeding tube in the wall shaped like Balik's penis, of course. As she put her lips to it, his face leered down at her. He was the source of all her despair and the font of her relief.

'You may drink, Ingrid,' he said graciously.

And she had to reply. 'Thank you, Mr Balik.'

How she hated him!

The stimulation in her pussy gradually had its inevitable effect.

A weight became a cock thrusting up inside her and she squatted down over it, working her hips frantically until, with a sob, she came and lost herself for a few blissful moments in its delight. And then the robot cane swished across her breasts, jerking her back to the present once more.

She lost track of the number of times she moved the set of weights for one corner of the room to the other. But eventually it was over and the screens went dead she sank to her knees. GB entered the room and freed her arms and almost gratefully, she crawled after him to wash and eat and sleep.

 

From: Breaking In Justine

 

Colin pulled the desk away, so they could look up into Justine's spread legs.

'You've wet yourself like a naughty girl. You've got to be punished for that...'

Neil went to the rack of punishment devices and came back with a set of handcuffs and a broad thick leather collar with rings on its sides. He began to buckle it about her neck. She tried to push him away in horror, but he slapped her cheek hard.

'Behave!' he said sharply.

She felt shocked not only by the blow, but the confidence with which he delivered it. The collar snapped shut about her neck. It felt very heavy. Her tie was now dangling out from underneath it.

Colin took the handcuffs from him, pulled her arms around behind the back of the chair and cuffed her wrists together.

Meanwhile, Raj went to the teacher's desk, as she realized it was, and operated some device on it. The inflated head of the anal plug shrank inside her. The men pulled her off the chair, laughing as the dildo sucked and popped out of her sodden vagina, while she whimpered as the head of the anal plug made her sphincter stretch before it came free.

'Looks like she's still juicy,' Colin observed crudely.

'We always knew she was a bit of a tart.' Neil said. 'Now it looks as though it was also covered in cream...'

She dripped on the floor as between them they hustled her over to the big desk.

Up close she saw there was some sort of instrument panel set to one side of the desk and another pair of metal contact plates side by side nailed flat in its middle. Beyond them on the far edge of the desk and spaced a little apart, a pair of heavy rings were screwed into the desktop, with snap hooks fitted to them.

They bent her face forward over the front of the desk so that her breasts flattened against the metal plates. They pulled the snap hooks up and locked them about the side rings in her collar, holding her head and shoulders down. She felt her feet being pulled wide apart and ropes being bound about her ankles connecting them to the front legs of the desk. Filled with sudden panic, Justine struggled, trying to pull herself loose, but she was completely helpless.

Colin flipped the end of her skirt up over her back so that it concealed nothing. The three men stepped back and admired the view of her pale, outthrust buttocks, clenching and squirming in fear, still glistening from the overflow of her recently spent water. The split cleft of her pubic mound played peekaboo beneath them.

'Now that is a view we've all been dreaming of for a long time,' Colin said.

'It was worth waiting for,' Raj added.

Neil moved round the desk to the operating panel and rested his hands upon it. 'Shall we begin?'

From that angle, Justine could look up at his face, which was filled with cruel anticipation. She realized there were wires connecting the panel to the plates on which her breasts rested. 'No... please don't!' she shouted.

'We can't have her making that much noise all the time,' Neil said.

Colin fetched something else from the rack. It was rubber ball fitted on a loop of elastic cord. He pulled it over Justine's head and pushed the ball between her teeth, stifling any further protests.

Neil pressed a switch. Justine yelped as the metal plates came alive under her breasts, stabbing her with a fresh pattern of electric needles every few seconds. The involuntary jerks she gave made her back arch, trying to pull itself upright, only to be pulled back down again by the hooks connected to her collar.

Then three men selected bamboo sticks with rubber paddle blades on their ends and took up positions behind her.

Swish, crack! They began to beat her buttocks and thighs. Her soft flesh rippled and stung and began to turn from pink to crimson. Those swipes angled up between her thighs kissed the wet sticky lips of her sex mouth and the blades came away stained with her juices. This excited the men and they beat her even harder, their stiff cocks straining and wagging frantically about.

Justine screamed and wailed and dribbled about her gag ball as this fresh wave of pain burned through her. Pin hammers seem to be beating up into her breasts, while her bobbing, writhing buttocks burned from spanking. Tears dripped from her stinging eyes down her cheeks and onto the desktop. The old desk was creaking from her frantic struggles.

And then Raj was saying something. 'We'll stop this if you beg us to screw you.'

Lost in the depths of her misery, Justine was ready to agree to anything and did not have to think twice. She nodded frantically.

Colin pulled her gag out. 'Say it aloud!'

'Please... please... I beg you... all of you... to screw me!'

'Are we losers anymore?'

'No... no!'

'Who's the loser here?'

'I... I am,' she said in despair.

 

From: Breaking in Karen and Lucy

 

Karen yelped about her rubber bit as the whip cracked across her bare buttocks.

'Pick up your knees. You can do better than that, Missy!' McAndrew called out to her.

Sobbing, with her breasts bouncing and heaving and glossy with sweat, Karen strained to run faster.

One of the previously unidentifiable devices in his barn under a dust cover, had been revealed as a kind of pony trap made for a woman to pull. It mostly comprised of a super lightweight aluminium tube and plastic webbing chair slung between two large wheels held together with what seemed to be spidery thin spokes. A single tubular shaft extended forward from under the chair and curved up and forward again like a swan's neck. It had a pair of rubber plugs mounted on the upper curve of its head end. They were plugged into her vagina and rectum. A little way back from their mounts, a chain ran up from the neck of the shaft to the back of a broad belt buckled about her waist, which took most of the strain as she hauled the cart along. The whole thing was incredibly light, and no doubt was a tribute to McAndrew's engineering skill, but she still sweated and strained to pull him along in it about the field.

Her arms were strapped together behind her back and she had a rubber bit in her mouth.

McAndrew held a long-handled whip that he flicked across her exposed rolling buttocks.

'Don't let shame hold you back,' he called out. 'We're perfectly secluded. Nobody else can see what a fine ponygirl you are. More's the pity... '

Fortunately, the field was not wholly rough grass. It had a web of hard rolled pathways crossing it and running around its perimeter. It was along these that McAndrew drove Karen, with the shaft plugs churning in her passageways, making her pussy stream with juices as by helpless reflex she squeezed tight about the rubber shaft within it. She could feel the vibrations from the wheel transmitted up through it deep inside her body.

She discovered that it was impossible to ignore the relentless intimate stimulation of her intimate harnessing, and so her nipples stood up hard and throbbed with life. Her inner thighs were flecked with foam from the churning juices seeping out of her plugged pussy. Her shiny buttocks, crisscrossed with scarlet whip stripes, stung from sweat. She was dizzy and panting from exhaustion. She was near to collapse. But she could feel the pressure building inside her loins.

Her cheeks burned with humiliation even as the sweat lathered her body. She was being stimulated as only a woman could be! What did she look like? McAndrew was a twisted bastard to use her like this!

The whip kissed her bottom once more...

She whimpered and stumbled and went down on her knees and hunched over and jerked her hips and came over her rubber shaft plugs.

'And that's what I call a proper endorsement of my little toy,' McAndrew said with satisfaction. 'It gives pleasure both to pony and rider...'

Karen needed another shower to wash sweat of her pony ride off her. Then McAndrew led her back to the barn again.

But instead of putting her back into her Deluxe cage, he sat her on its top on the folded cage cover. He pulled and twisted at the side posts of the front of the cage and they extended telescopic core rods to double their height. They had rings and buckled straps on their ends. Before she quite took in what he was planning, McAndrew tilted Karen onto her back and pulled her legs up and wide strapped her ankles to the tops of the posts. She made a feeble attempt to resist as he uncuffed her wrists and pulled her arms out wide and strapped her wrists to the heads of the rear set of posts.

'Do you want to eat?' he reminded her.

Biting her lip, her resistance ceased.

'I'm going to give your pretty bottom a paddling and then I'm going to screw you. That will buy you supper. What you say?'

'Thank you... Sir,' she mumbled miserably.

Now her red-striped bottom overhung the top of the cage and her groin gaped wide and shamelessly inviting. He rubbed his fingers through her slot, testing her wetness and making her squirm. Then he wandered off to a shelf and came back with a rubber paddle. Taking up position he smacked it into her bottom. Her tender flesh rippled, and she yelped and whimpered.

He gave her half a dozen brisk smacks, making her sore flesh burn. Then he tore open his flies freeing his stiff cock, took hold of her raised thighs and rammed deep into her. As he pumped away, making the cage rock slightly, her breasts standing up on her chest bobbed and rolled back and forth, tipped by her hard nipples jutting up like tiny lighthouses.

McAndrew grunted and squirted his seed up into her hot depths, and then he slumped across her hot helpless body. A convulsion of perverse pleasure rippled through her and she squeezed shamelessly on his spouting shaft. For a few seconds she did not care about how this pleasure had come about and felt only blissful release and delight.

McAndrew lifted his head and almost playfully nipped her throbbing nipples with his teeth. 'Now you're ready to entertain Hadleigh,' he told her.

And then all the shame and humiliation returned to swamp her pleasure and Karen choked back a sob. What was the matter with her?