Message-ID: <19469eli$9901290449@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year99/19469.txt>
From: rb@redrose.net (Timothy Reisling Betticut)
Subject: TG story: Bridaled For Bullion
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Reply-To: rb@redrose.net
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
X-Authentication-Warning: philabs-gw.philabs.research.philips.com: smap set sender to <news@news2.giganews.com> using -f
X-Abuse-Info: Otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <36b63c03.6790524@news.giganews.com>

*** ***


WARNING/DISCLAIMER: If you are too young to buy liquor, you 

are too young to read this. If you have a life view that 

wrestles with sexual ideas, you will be very uncomfortable 

here. While the First Amendment protects ideas, it does not 

adequately protect children. That is a parent's job. Please 

review this sort of literature before allowing your child to 

read it. In fact, don't allow your child to read it. This is 

adult stuff.  


*** ***


Hey.. If you like this story and want to see more or Timothy 

Reisling Betticut's work, surf on over to his collaboration 

with Elayne Beneford at www.geocities.com/~elayneb/.


*** ***




Bridaled For Bullion

By

Timothy Reisling Betticut



 "And his blood workup?" 


The elegant woman in the long medical coat tapped some keys 

and the large screen reassembled into a half dozen graphs, 

each with at least three different functions  squibbling 

their colored paths between the axis.  "Well, it's clear 

that Mr. Kerl is heterosexual," polite laughter followed the 

remark from one of the technicians toward the front of the 

table. "And it's also clear that he likes breasts. Wow, I 

don't think I've ever seen such a pronounced attraction to 

secondary sexual characteristics," a remark that brought 

nods from all six of the specialists in the darkened room.


 

"And here," the first woman drew up another screen, "is 

precisely the right place!"


*** ***


"Slide down on it honey... Come on, it's all slick and 

you're lubed up good, just sit down and keep smiling for the 

video Dear." Self-impalement. Timmy was slowly squatting 

down onto the high stool, one hand on the four inch dong 

pointing upward from the seat, the other holding his bridal 

skirts bunched up high in back, every millimeter he dropped 

tightened another tendon in his neck and chin. His legs 

shook as he stood atop the second rung from the floor, the 

only way he could get high enough to bring his bottom atop 

the impaler. Ooooo, it was at his opening, now... now slowly 

into... "Drop down Babe. Speed it up. Kay?"


*** ***


The Capucin Institute of America is funded for one purpose. 

To develop techniques to control people. And they quickly 

discovered that people are best controlled though their most 

primal hard wiring - sex. Women know that without studies. 

But even the most sophisticated female knows she has a 

problem. See, we are a species that lacks an estrus. Our 

females do not go into occasional heat. So when they are 

hormonally driven, they need to be able to demonstrate the 

fact. We are also a species where the male is drawn to the 

female by every sense. And one where the female needs to 

decorate herself to maximize that sensual attraction. 

Problem is, those decorations are difficult to focus. A girl 

might be attracted to an earthy brute. But if her gritty 

savage has a set of fantasies different from the ones she 

adopts, she'll get a wrong number. So women discovered that 

they need the largest range of lures, especially when they 

have no one particular man in mind. Those temptations tend 

to work on the largest number of men, and can often result 

in both unintended and messy consequences. In a word, rape.


So The CIA has at first concentrated on manipulating men in 

their search for perfect control. Millions of tests by the 

most sophisticated computers have resulted in the CIA-

Battery. Derk Kerl maintains security for the Federal 

Reserve Bank of New York. In that bank's basement is much of 

the world's gold supply. Question, how to get Derk Kerl to 

allow an intruder access to the loot?  Heather Kittaen 

picked Kerl up. Seduced him. Slipped him "mm of Minoxidoxin. 

She slid him into The Sarcophagus and then they gave her 

subject the CIA-Battery. 


*** ***


Had to relax, let the greased head in. He could feel the 

boning of his savagely laced corset forcing his back 

straight, feel his calves bulge from the strain of  four 

inch spikes, feel his golden curls tossing over his bare 

shoulders while the chandelier earrings jounced at his neck. 

Careful, don't fall. Can't let himself lose his balance. 

"That's it, I'm in close to your face now, lick your lips 

and keep them parted. Smile Teather and look startled as it 

crams up into you. Great, that's it. Come on, work with me 

Sweets." Down and down he came. Up and up it went. The gown 

was off-the-shoulder with a fat flounce of lace all around. 

Hair and lace and clouds of crinolined skirts, couldn't see 

back there. How far to the seat? Oooooo, so full. Four 

inches seemed so far. Ahhhh...  So... Ow! Soooooo.... 

oooo....


"Great. Now wriggle and giggle. Come on a little happy 

squeal now that you're completely onto it and fluff your 

skirts out all around, make a ring. GREAT! Stool's the 

perfect height, they just touch the floor. It looks like 

you're standing there. Keep your fat red lips wet Babe, and 

now flounce your curls. Fluff them out and let your boobies 

jiggle against the satin. Wonderful, it just sparkles in the 

lens under those lights. Your nipples look so big and hard. 

Stamp your feet a little and bounce just a bit so everyone 

can see how good it feels. Come on, DO IT, and smile, smile, 

smile!"


*** ***


You've got an aura. Oh not the weird thing that ESP geeks 

sing about. Nope. But it's a fact that your brain waves can 

be read outside of your head. You know that. Put a naked 

body inside 'The Sarcophagus', turn on the stimuli, and the 

measurements are more revealing than anything - anything - 

you can determine in any other way. As you know, Minoxidoxin 

will sedate you while giving your brain a hormonal washing 

that mimics the return of puberty. Inside 'The Sarcophagus' 

the naked Derk Kerl was bathed in visuals and sounds, scents 

and touches - literally billions of them. And his aura told 

it all. After just fifteen minutes the great Cray Computers 

had a hypothesis.


And now with the blood workup in, the team in that dim room 

had a conclusion. There was no doubt about Kerl's 

fundamental fantasies, even his kinks and fetishes. The 

right slightly boyish blond, prepared with this material 

could make Derk Kerl beg, or rape. Regardless, his 

reactions, caught on tape would be enough to coerce him to 

anything. Because now they knew what would most shame Derk 

Kerl.  "One thing's certain, the bait in this case has to be 

very careful. Or at least we should be sensitive to the fact 

that he could be..." "Hurt? Raped? Killed?" The elegant 

woman asked the man at the table's head. "So what? It's 

clear that our agent shouldn't be the prey, but the hunter."



*** *** ***


Too many feelings jouncing around inside of Tim  Mitty as he 

wriggled and whorled atop the tall stool flouncing his 

virginal white skirtings, peering through his thick bangs, 

arranging the yards of sparkling material that fell down the 

back. But if he was going to get this awful mess over with, 

he had to keep some of his sanity. He leaned backward now 

and poked his gloved hands under his hems feeling about at 

the base of his terrible stool for the silken ribbons tied 

to the stool's rungs.  "Well, you're going a little fast, 

but 'kay, pull out the ties and yea, wrap them about your 

waist. Great. Now how about a big bow in the back. I know 

you can't see it, not to worry, we'll get it fixed real 

sweetly afterward and cut it in. What's important is that 

you're tying yourself down. Uh - huh. Now the ankles?"


Tim bunched Teather's skirts up into his lap exposing his 

white nyloned legs perched on their ankle strapped pumps. 

Again, he couldn't see what the camera caught, but his 

gloved hands soon found the shackles dangling from their 

chain where it was wrapped around the stool's cross-bar. 

"Don't look down Honey, look here at me. At the camera and 

keep smiling. Better. Look like you're doing something 

naughty. Give me a little moue'. Yea. Nice and snap the 

right ankle. Super. And the left. And now stamp your little 

feet again to make sure you're caught tight.  Hey, they're 

pulled back so you're sort of on your toes. I like that. Tug 

at the cuffs a little and look at me... Look at me. Look 

happy with your work." Tim, packaged inside the mounds of 

bridal skirting and the strict snug bodice beamed at the 

camera being careful to slick down his glowing red lips 

again and felt the humiliating blush redden his rouged 

cheeks farther. Each bend and twist seemed to poke the 

intruder deeper inside of him but he was determined to get 

this awful thing done as he dropped and smoothed his skirts 

down over the shiny metal shackles joining his ankles to the 

stool. Now, even if the waist bow was removed, he'd never 

stand without the key that unlocked him. 


"Now, take the first package from beside you and open it in 

your lap. Uh-huh. I know, look surprised and curious about 

this. Hold it up. Great, for the first time, you can look a 

little worried. Yea, now run your fingers over the thing and 

shake the strap. Better hold it up. The strap's white and 

getting lost against your bust... God you've got big tits." 

Teather didn't have to fake surprise, Tim wasn't sure at 

first what the thing was. There was the top of  penis, 

molded in semi soft latex  ending in a red ball at the other 

end. A white strap was strung at the base of the cock 

through the ball. It was a gag. He was going to have to push 

that apparatus into his mouth, the ball was the same color 

as  Teather's  nail polish and lipstick, 'Trailer Park 

Slut'.


"But slowly now. Turn your head a little so we can see you 

open your lips... Wider. Good, now eat it Babe. Right in... 

Farther. Good. Sit up straight. Poke out your titties. Now 

reach it under your hair in the back and buckle it really 

tight. NO! I SAID TIGHT! I don't want to come over there 

Bitch!"


Tim was almost gagging. He knew if he tried to talk at all, 

he would gag around the thing. It was so big, jacking his 

teeth open as far as they'd go. Already a tiny drop of drool 

was seeping around his lower lip. And he knew that with both 

gloved hands behind his neck like that he was jutting his 

boobs up and out. He could feel them shimmy beneath the thin 

fabric that covered his rock hard nipples like paint.


"Look in the box Teather. Isn't there something more in 

there dear? Right, grab that tiny lock and hold it up in 

front of you to examine it carefully. Good, I'll zoom in - 

hold it still, so you're concerned face is just slightly out 

of focus behind it. Okay, as I pull back, open it and feel 

around for the loop in the gag strap behind you. It's right 

between the twin 'O' rings. Got it? Is ...is it on. You can 

nod. Fine, that'll keep you nice and mum for the ceremony 

huh?"


Ceremony? The hell was she planning now? But no time to 

wonder, Tim grabbed on the floor for the last elaborately 

wrapped wedding gift and slowly opened it atop his fluffy 

lap. Shit!


"Aren't they pretty? I spray painted them white myself. Now,  

just take one of the thumb cuffs and put it on your right 

hand. Good, not too fast. Shake it a little and now before 

you tighten it too much make sure the open cuff comes out 

toward the left as you look down at your hands. Snick it 

tighter. Almost done Sweetie. First, drop the veil now and 

arrange it around your face. Fine, fluff up your hair and 

stretch the veil in back over your shoulders. Right, 

demure... Do it demurely over your boobs. Kay. Pick up the 

corsage and , right pin it to the front of your waist 

ribbon. Arrange it sweetly on your lap. NOW! Put your hands 

behind your neck and slide the empty cuff through the twin 

'O' rings right over the lock. Got it?"


Teather was going to be helpless. If  Tim snapped that other 

cuff around his left thumb he would be hopelessly trapped 

atop this stool. He knew that his corseted, hosed, heeled, 

blonded, gloved and gowned body would be shackled and bowed 

onto that intruder poking horribly up his ass. He knew that 

his hands way up there would put even more pressure on his 

engorged back end. He understood that the boned corset would 

make him sit up straight ramming all of this weight down 

upon the finger that he wobbled upon. And he also knew if he 

didn't do it, this woman would ruin him. She'd share these 

new pictures with the others. He'd never teach again. Tim 

Mitty did not want any of this. One night of weakness. One 

night when he'd let his beautiful student seduce him. His 

horrible sin was that he was too attracted to sexy 

intelligent women. And this one was not just sexy. Kim 

Bassinger was just sexy. Heather Locklear was just sexy.  

Pamela Lee and Jenny McCarthy were JUST sexy. 


But there was a hidden video camera! All of the wonderfully 

terrible things that she did to him showed. And it showed 

just how much he wanted them done. And that would never do. 

Not for a teacher with a student, even an older student.  

She'd offered to let him have the tape back if he'd just do 

one thing. Then another. "What was her motivation?" Tim 

wondered as he teetered atop his stool. Did she hate men so 

much or just him? Professor Tim Mitty was never a ladies' 

man. Probably why he'd become a teacher at a women's 

college. He was attracted to girls of course. He wasn't some 

sort of fag. Or at least he didn't think he was. But now, 

after the feminizations. NO! He wasn't He could escape this. 

And.... 'CLICK!'


"Ohhhh, it's even cooler than I dreamt. You're so beautiful 

and you can't resist anything can you Teather? With your 

hands cuffed up like that you're presenting your tits. 

Actually offering them! Neat. And the veiling softens your 

features even more. Good thing we used dark makeup. You 

can't even take off your gloves now. You can't kick off your 

shoes. You can't wipe off that inviting lipstick or 

eyeshadow. And the girls did a fabulous job on that hair. 

Even if you flail, it'll still look so sexy with all of 

those curls. You're the 'Fuck-Me' bride and.... Ahhh... 

that's the doorbell. Time to get your groom. Don't go away 

honey." Go away? Teather was in no position to do anything 

but proposition. It was impossible to tell that she wasn't 

simply standing there, hands behind her neck in a seductive 

pose for her husband-lover. But Tim Mitty was frantic. She 

didn't say anything about anyone else. That's where he would 

have drawn the line. Heather Kittaen was going to display 

him as Teather. Or at least that's all he hoped she was 

going to do. Except, she had a video of  Tim turning himself 

into Teather. Of Tim donning corset, lingerie', stockings 

and makeup. Of Tim combing out and attaching his wig, 

smiling all the while. Then she'd filmed him pulling on his 

gown, veils and gloves and swishing out to this stool. All 

the while alone. Finally, she had the pictures of the virgin 

in white binding herself... Making herself into bridal bait 

for ... for.... .


"Tah-Dah! Teather, meet Derk Kerl. He's going to watch your 

video. Then he'll..." the elegant blond grinned, but the 

room grew cool as a grave,  "marry you."


 *** ***


Hey.. If you liked this story and want to see more or 

Timothy Reisling Betticut's work, surf on over to his free 

collaboration with Elayne Beneford at 

www.geocities.com/~elayneb/ there are some very new things 

there right now.


-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>