Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 He circled the young girl slowly, taking in the sight of her naked form. 
She was barely eighteen, she'd told him so, and she looked it too.  She was
quite slender, but her body was definitely that of a woman's.  Her breasts
sat high on her chest, full and ripe...  melons really.  They were quite
large, very firm...he would change that.  He stroked her slender waist
slowly, dropped his hand to her hip and caressing it where it flared out.
She shivered a little but didn't move.

   "Do you know what I do to girls like you?" he asked conversationally,
cupping her breasts from behind and massaging the nipples gently.  The girl
shuddered with excitement, her breath coming in excited pants.  "Yes," she
whispered, "you...you...you hang us...by our breasts." "Very good," he told
her, "and do you know what that does?" She shook her head slowly and he
dropped her breasts, came back around to face her.  "Let me show you..."
And he led her into the room, the one where they all suffered, where his
beautiful ladies with their firm breasts became freaks of nature, their
tits stretched out down to their waists, sagging, stringy little bags of
flesh.  Catalogued in poster-sized photos on the wall was their progress,
the initial photo, happy, young women with proud firm tits, their perky
nipples pointing up and then the end result.  Still young but faces no
longer smiling, sad, tear-filled eyes as they showed their ruined tits,
stretched beyond repair.  Some of them had injections, implants, anything
to make them firm again so he could stretch them more, hang them longer. 
This room was a shrine to his work, full of photos of those beautiful women
with their firm proud breasts, photos of them hanging, fucking him as they
swung in the air and finally, the after shots, the still firm bodies with
the ruined tits.  They knew he would dispose of them when they got like
that but they didn't care, they just had to hang...  even those that went
away and got their tits fixed kept coming back for more afterwards...they
wanted him to destroy their bodies.  They liked being used.

   The girl gasped, eyes wide as she circled the room, looking at the ones
before her.  At last she turned to him.  "What...what do you do with them
when they get like that?  Do you still hang them?" she asked.  "No I don't.
I don't do anything," he replied, "I'm not interested in a saggy-titted
bitch.  Just sweet young things like you with firm perky little tits." She
shuddered, "So what do they do afterwards?" "I don't care." "Is that what
will happen to me?" she asked.  He watched her carefully.  She was
definitely turned on.  She liked the idea of being used, abused and left.
"Eventually.  You're young and you have great tits.  It'll take a year or
two to ruin them.  And they will be ruined...  eventually.  And when that
happens, you'll leave.  I don't care where you go or what you do, but I
won't want anything more to do with you." She shuddered a little and closed
her eyes.  He knew she was considering it, thinking about what would
happen. Her life would be over before she was even twenty.  But she'd do it
anyway, they always did.  At last she opened her eyes and mounted the
little podium in the centre of the room.  "Do me," she said.  He nodded and
reached for the ropes, nooses really, soft bungy ones to start her off.  He
slipped them over her flesh, pulled the tit through and placed the ropes
hard against her rib cage, pulled the slipknot down and then went for the
cuffs.  He cuffed her hands behind her and then stepped back, throwing the
switch on the motor near the ceiling.  At once the ropes went taut and the
little slut gasped.  A little more and she was pulled from the podium, her
toes left the ground and she hung.  Instantly those lovely melons began to
turn purple and she started to whimper.  He didn't care, she wanted the
pain...  he knew she did.  After a while she began to beg, beg to be let
down again.  Her breasts were a dark colour now, the flesh forced out by
the rope.  Her tits were bulging little balls of flesh, the rope almost
invisible as it dug into her.  Her weight was tightening the knots, cutting
off the blood flow.  There was no danger, he knew how long it would be
before her flesh began to die and he wasn't about to let that happen.

   At last he came for her and she spread her legs willingly, gratefully.
Yes, she was turned on, even now, despite the pain.  BECAUSE of the pain.
He entered her easily, his thick cock parting her little cunt.  She started
to bounce on the ropes, using the give in the bungy cord to fuck him.  He
massaged her swollen tits as they fucked, admiring their perfection.  He
felt her gripping him, felt the throes of her orgasm and at that moment he
shot into her.  As she went slack, he stepped back and hit the switch,
letting her down.  Once he'd removed the ropes, her tits were just a little
bit softer, more female.  The adolescent perkiness was already changing and
becoming a more womanly sag.  She noticed and stroked them gently. 
"They're starting to sag already aren't they?" she asked him and he nodded.
"Do you want to stop?  Would you like to leave?" he asked her.  Her eyes
roamed the room as she thought about it and massaged the blood back into
her aching mounds.  "No," she whispered, "not yet." And he knew then that
she was his because despite the pain and the reality of having tits no man
would touch, there was a need inside her that had to be filled.  These
things were no match for the aching in her tits and pussy; the need to be
hung was too great.  They always came back for more, always until their
bodies were ruined and God knew what they did after that.  He didn't care.

   She changed over the coming months, became hotter, hornier, begging him
to hurt her all the time...to hang her more often.  Her tits were changing
shape, slowly but surely they were becoming grotesque.  He pointed it out
to her once, showed her the photo of her the day she first came to see him,
with her fat little melons poking out.  There was fear in her face when she
saw that photo and she looked down to where her breasts rested, not firm at
all, but still in the right place.  She spread her legs and bent over the
table, letting him rub her hairless slit.  She was moist there, damp at
what was happening.  "Will it be long?" she asked.  "No," he said softly,
sliding deep into her cunt, "not long now at all.  You're well on your way
to being a cow now.  Look at these fucking udders," he said reaching under
her and massaging the soft flesh, "look at how they hang.  Six more months
and no one will ever want you again." Her cunt shuddered around his cock.
"You really should leave," he taunted her, "now before we fuck you up
completely.  Who knows, a boob job might fix this." He continued massaging
her tits.  "But you want them fucked up don't you?" She groaned, screwing
her ass back at him.  "You wanted me to turn your perky little tits into
udders and I have.  And now that they're udders, you want filthy little
shit bags, and I'll do that too.  And when I'm done I won't want you..."
She cried out, her cunt spasming all around him, milking his cock and he
grunted as he too came, pouring his cream up into her teenaged little twat.
"No one will want you," he whispered as she slumped down onto the table.

   He watched her face as he got out the camera...  saw how her eyes
dropped to her ruined breasts.  He smiled at her.  "So it's really time
then?" she whispered.  "You knew this would happen.  I told you right at
the start that when your tits no longer held appeal for me, I would have
nothing more to do with you.  Look at these little shit bags," he mocked,
picking up one of her drooping tits, "there's nothing left in there. 
They're hideous.  I like my tits like this," and he showed her the photo of
her when she first came, posing for the camera, eighteen-year-old tits,
perky and firm, nipples pointing to the ceiling.  She started to cry.  Now
her tits hung nearly to her navel, little empty sacks of filth.  He made no
move to comfort her.  After a little while he spoke.  "Let's get your
photos done and then you can decide what you want to do.  Right slut, look
into the camera." And she did, raising her tear-filled eyes into the lens,
unable to keep herself from shaking as he clicked away, capturing her on
the film.  It hadn't even been two years yet.  She had just celebrated her
twentieth birthday and she was ruined, her prize tits gone.  It had only
taken nineteen months of being fucked while she hung from her tits at least
once a day.  Oh, she had had no illusions.  His whole dungeon was papered
with poster size portraits of the ones before her, happy, smiling girls in
the before photos, proud perky tits thrusting up and out, photos of the day
they came here and then the after shot...  the one where their tits hung
down, flat against their stomachs, their faces a picture of misery, the
photo taken the day they left.  Each poster had a little note at the
bottom, their names, ages, how long it had taken to ruin them, their fate
when they left his dungeon...  "Slide your hands under them, hold them up,"
he told her and she did, the soft tissue hanging limply in her hands.  She
didn't blame him.  She had the tits of an old woman...they disgusted her
too.  At last he put the camera down.  "So let's talk options," he said. 
"What choice do I have?" she whispered.  "Well, you can leave." "But I have
no money." "Not my problem.  Other than that all I can offer you is the
services of Mike." "The butcher?" she gasped and he shrugged.  "Today is
your last day in service to me.  You knew what would happen when you signed
on.  You knew I would abandon you, throw you out when your tits were
finished and you agreed to that.  In fact, it made you horny.  So, we will
have one last session and then I can sell you to Mike and he will snuff you
or I can throw you out.  You choose." She thought long and hard, stroking
her tits gently, her hand dropping to her sex, where she found that she was
indeed becoming wet at the prospect of being thrown away like so much
garbage.  "You're right.  When I came here you told me they would be
ruined," she said softly, "and I gave them to you anyway.  I realise now
that I didn't just give you my tits.  I gave you all of myself.  My life
isn't worth anything once I leave here.  No-one will want me, will they?"
"I doubt it," he replied.  "So let's have our last session.  Mike can have
me when you're done.  All I ask is that you take what I gave you...my tits.
They are yours, you can do whatever you want with them." "Good girl," he
said softly, stroking her head, "On your hands and knees." She did as she
was told and her nipples scraped the floor.  He bound her breasts slowly,
from the base out, wrapping them tightly in rope until they were fat little
balls on a stalk of coiled rope, firm and hard again.  "Stand up," he
commanded, and she did as quickly as she could.  He stroked the spheres
gently, brushing the nipples with his fingers.  She moaned and closed her
eyes.  "Does that feel good little slut?" "Oh yes, yes master it does."
"Arms up." She raised her arms to the waiting manacles and he snapped her
in.  He stroked her breasts some more and then produced two alligator
clips. She recognised them from her first day here, when he had snapped
them on, telling her how they were so strong that after about five minutes
on a slave's nipples, the flesh would die and she would loose them.  They
bit deep, severing skin and she had only ever worn them for a maximum of
two minutes.  He snapped them on and she cried out, arching her back and
pushing her pussy forward.  He massaged the breast globes, stroking the
alligator clips occasionally as her nipples turned a dark colour.  She
watched the clock behind him, one minute, then two clicked past.  At three
minutes he took them off and she gasped in relief and pain as the blood
flooded back into her aching nipples.  "They're going back on in a minute
and when they do, they won't be coming off..." he whispered gently after a
minute of rubbing life back into her flesh, "Tomorrow you will be
slaughtered like the little sow you are...  what use will these nipples be
to you?" "None," she gasped.  "And what about this?" he asked, dropping a
hand to stroke her clit, "will you need this too do you think?" She
shuddered in fear.  He had only ever hurt her by hanging her from her
tits...  surely he wouldn't castrate her?  "No," he continued, "I don't
think you need that either." She closed her eyes and sobbed.  "So tell me
slut, would you like me to fuck you while your nipples and clit die?"
"Yes," she whispered.  He smiled at her, pulling on her aching engorged
nipples.  He slid the clips around her nipples slowly, letting them go. 
She jerked as they closed completely and he knelt down quickly, peeling
back her pussy lips and licking her quickly to make her clit stand out. 
She thrust her hips forward for him and felt the cold metal against the hot
flesh and then the world went red as he let go and the clip cut into her
clit.  She arched her back, grunting in pain, her hips moving violently,
trying to shake the clip off.  She felt him behind her, lifting her hips,
impaling her on his cock and she squirmed even more.  Once she slid all the
way down onto him, his hands came up to her breasts and he began pulling on
the clips, squeezing them tighter.  The burning was so bad now she thought
she would faint and she eyed the clock...  four minutes.  She cried, tears
running down her face as she realised that the pain was subsiding...her
clit and nipples were dying...but she could still feel an orgasm building
and she humped back at him, feeding on the pain, revelling in the thought
that she would never be able to come again.  "Master," she panted, "Oh
master, please, I need you to fuck me up so badly...  please, please ruin
me some more..." She heard him grunt from behind and then there was a metal
skewer below each breast at the base, he was holding skewers for her.  She
felt her hands released from the manacles and she grabbed the skewers,
never missing a beat as she drove them slowly up through the base of her
breasts, fucking him all the time.  The burning inside her cunt was
becoming unbearable, but she didn't seem to be able to come.  The skewer
ends popped out of the top of her breasts but she still wasn't coming... 
But then, just as she thought she would miss out on her last orgasm, she
felt her master's fingers between her lips, searching, finding and then
tugging rhythmically at her clit clip.  She gasped in pleasure, fucking him
with renewed strength.  She felt the flesh down there tearing and she
grabbed her nipple clips, pulling hard on them and feeling them give way
too.  At last, she felt her master start to come, just as her clit and
nipples tore free and she screamed as an orgasm blasted through her...her
very last ever.