Ste Letto
09-04-2004, 12:37 PM
On the discussion page 1007 asked for any stories or pictures incorporating kneeling. Here is a small offering that came out when I started thinking about that idea.
The Church Of Compression
Stephanie spun round excitedly, holding the hem of her dress out wide. The pretty brunette smiled at her reflection in the mirror. The girl in the mirror smiled back. She was tall and slim, nicely curved with perky breasts, a slim waist, toned thighs and small feet. She looked innocent and sweet in a white lace dress with short sleeves, lacy gloves and a skirt that would hang below the knee if allowed to fall. She wore white, opaque, nylon stockings and white stilleto heeled shoes. At first sight she looked like a bride or bridesmaid.
Today was a very special day. Today was her 18th birthday. Like all female members of The Church of Compression, her 18th birthday was a day of special importance. She looked around her. Three other girls all stood, swaying nervously, their faces a mixture of excitement and fear. There was Becky Calendar, Ralph Calendar’s daughter, a plump girl with freckles and bright red hair who was shorter than Stephanie and wore flat white shoes instead of stilletos. Rebecca could see that Becky was sweating slightly. Next to Becky stood Laura Fortnam, Jack Fortnam’s girl. Laura was small and slim with a plain face and short blonde hair. She was almost boyish with her slim build and angular features. The last girl was Tara Glan. She was Harold Glan’s daughter. Tara looked and acted like a queen. She had long black hair, green eyes and a wide, kissable mouth. Her body was swimsuit model perfect. Her dress fit her closely. She wore white ankle boots with high heels. She also wore a sash.
The girls could hear the minister droning on next door in the church. They knew the time was approaching when they would ascend to the level of elevated ones. They heard the organist begin to play, and moments later they saw the double doors swing wide. There was a red carpet around the perimeter of the church, and it was covered by men lying on their backs to form a raised floor.
Tara went first. She stepped from the carpetted waiting room onto the stomach of her cousin Billy Waite. Billy lay stock still, his body covered by a plain white cotton smock. Tara didn’t even look down as she stepped upon Billy. Her foot wobbled a tiny bit, as she had never trampled a man before, but she soon got the knack. As the music played, Tara stepped from man to man. Becky followed Tara, and her foot sank deep into Billy’s flesh. The stoical boy did not cry out, but his face went red and his eyes watered. His body trembled with the effort of supporting the heavier girl. Laura went next, and the contrast between her and Becky was incredible. Billy couldn’t feel Laura at all. Stephanie went last, at the rear of the procession. Billy caught her eye as she looked down nervously, smiled and winked. Stephanie smiled back and stepped from Billy to the next man in line.
The girls processed slowly around the room, until their path brought them to the centre aisle. Their, at the altar waited their future partners, their humbles at the members of The Church Of Compression called them. The girls made their way to the altar for the marriage ceremony. The men, the humbles, would become the property of the girls, slaves for life. Each girl arrived at the side of her chosen humble.
Stephanie looked down at Robert John, her humble in waiting. He lay naked on a raised platform, on his back, eyes tightly closed. He, like all the waiting humbles, was in a sort of crab position over his platform. His arms reached down toward the floor, and his wrists were shackled. His knees were bent, and his ankles were shackled also. He had his eyes closed as he had been instructed.
Each man was in the same state. The minister, Veronica Chalmers, handed each girl a castration tool. The girls moved to stand between their humble’s legs. At the correct moment in the ceremony each girl stretched a hand forward and caressed her humble’s balls. Each found himself becoming aroused, having been given a stimulant before the event. Robert couldn’t resist the sensation of Stephanie’s gloved hand caressing his wrinkled ballsack. Her soft strokes and light touches made the blood surge into his knob. His cock rose, as did that of every man on every platform. The four girls smiled to see their obedient humble’s rampant cocks raised. Each girl pumped the erect flesh before them five times. Then they took the castration tools and positioned them at the base of each man’s sinful root. The men felt the devices, but their cocks remained firm. The girls closed their grips and the devices simultaneously severed the aroused members. As the blades crossed, they became superheated, instantly cauterising the wounds.
The girls all trapped the fallen genitals and pinned the still warm flesh beneath their sexily clad feet. At a signal from Veronica they each crushed the left ball, then the right, and then they stamped the still erect cocks flat. Now Veronica invited the girls to ascend to their true position. Each girl stepped up onto her humble’s platform, then knelt upon her humble’s chest. Robert, still with his eyes closed, felt the rounded, bony knees of his beloved pressing against his chest. He felt strangely warm and safe under her nylon clad shins and knees. It felt right to bear her weight. It felt erotic, despite the fact of his now lost and destroyed genitals, to feel the rough scratch of the nylon, the warmth of her flesh, and the crushing pressure of her weight. He felt her shift to keep balanced. He felt the toes of her shoes in his thighs and smiled.
Tara’s humble was also smiling. Aaron knew he was the luckiest man alive. He was glad and proud to have given his manhood to her. He loved the idea of this young girl kneeling upon him, using him like a piece of furniture. He loved to imagine her serene face and perfect features. Tara was indeed serene and beautiful. She was also aroused by the events so far. She was enjoying dominating her humble. She focussed her attention on the chest beneath her, on its rise and fall as her humble breathed.
Becky was similarly aroused. Her humble seemed pained and his breathing laboured. Beneath her, the poor man felt as if someone had wrapped steel bands about his chest and were slowly tightening them. He had to fight Becky’s crushing weight for every lungful. He felt the heat coming from Becky’s shins and this sapped his energy further.
Laura’s humble was having the easiest time of it. He could feel her bony knees and her shins but they barely compressed him. He liked the feel of her kneeling upon him and looked forward to her kneeling on him every Wednesday at church. He, like all the humbles, would serve his wife in this way for the rest of his life.
The girls remained kneeling upon their humbles for half an hour until Veronica signalled them to move. Stephanie along with every other girl on the altar stood, moved forward and placed her right knee on her humble’s exposed throat. Robert bent his head back a little further as she worked her knee in, threatening to crush his windpipe. Each man felt awed respect and fear at the pressure there, at that most vulnerable spot, and knew that his life or death depended on the kindness or cruelty of his new wife. In their community it was not unknown for girls to press the throat a little too firmly to rid themselves of an unwanted humble. Tara put more pressure on her humble’s throat until he started to cough and choke. She smiled and let up the pressure a little. Becky and Laura just applied light pressure. On a signal from Veronica, each girl moved and sat upon her humble’s face. Stephanie, Tara, Becky and Laura all raised their skirts, hovered their white cotton clad bottoms and sat. Each humble felt the soft warm surging flesh of his new owner engulfing his face. Each girl maneuvred until she was covering her man’s nose and mouth, then they remained still. The four girls took their oaths, and made solemn vows to control, punish and dominate their humbles. They lifted fractionally, as they had been taught, to allow their human seats/kneelers to breathe. Each girl received Veronica’s blessing before being encouraged to stay seated on their humble’s face until he passed out. All the girls did so, ignoring the faint pleas and vain struggles of their men until they fell still, silent and limp.
Thus did their married lives start as members of The Church Of Compression.
The Church Of Compression
Stephanie spun round excitedly, holding the hem of her dress out wide. The pretty brunette smiled at her reflection in the mirror. The girl in the mirror smiled back. She was tall and slim, nicely curved with perky breasts, a slim waist, toned thighs and small feet. She looked innocent and sweet in a white lace dress with short sleeves, lacy gloves and a skirt that would hang below the knee if allowed to fall. She wore white, opaque, nylon stockings and white stilleto heeled shoes. At first sight she looked like a bride or bridesmaid.
Today was a very special day. Today was her 18th birthday. Like all female members of The Church of Compression, her 18th birthday was a day of special importance. She looked around her. Three other girls all stood, swaying nervously, their faces a mixture of excitement and fear. There was Becky Calendar, Ralph Calendar’s daughter, a plump girl with freckles and bright red hair who was shorter than Stephanie and wore flat white shoes instead of stilletos. Rebecca could see that Becky was sweating slightly. Next to Becky stood Laura Fortnam, Jack Fortnam’s girl. Laura was small and slim with a plain face and short blonde hair. She was almost boyish with her slim build and angular features. The last girl was Tara Glan. She was Harold Glan’s daughter. Tara looked and acted like a queen. She had long black hair, green eyes and a wide, kissable mouth. Her body was swimsuit model perfect. Her dress fit her closely. She wore white ankle boots with high heels. She also wore a sash.
The girls could hear the minister droning on next door in the church. They knew the time was approaching when they would ascend to the level of elevated ones. They heard the organist begin to play, and moments later they saw the double doors swing wide. There was a red carpet around the perimeter of the church, and it was covered by men lying on their backs to form a raised floor.
Tara went first. She stepped from the carpetted waiting room onto the stomach of her cousin Billy Waite. Billy lay stock still, his body covered by a plain white cotton smock. Tara didn’t even look down as she stepped upon Billy. Her foot wobbled a tiny bit, as she had never trampled a man before, but she soon got the knack. As the music played, Tara stepped from man to man. Becky followed Tara, and her foot sank deep into Billy’s flesh. The stoical boy did not cry out, but his face went red and his eyes watered. His body trembled with the effort of supporting the heavier girl. Laura went next, and the contrast between her and Becky was incredible. Billy couldn’t feel Laura at all. Stephanie went last, at the rear of the procession. Billy caught her eye as she looked down nervously, smiled and winked. Stephanie smiled back and stepped from Billy to the next man in line.
The girls processed slowly around the room, until their path brought them to the centre aisle. Their, at the altar waited their future partners, their humbles at the members of The Church Of Compression called them. The girls made their way to the altar for the marriage ceremony. The men, the humbles, would become the property of the girls, slaves for life. Each girl arrived at the side of her chosen humble.
Stephanie looked down at Robert John, her humble in waiting. He lay naked on a raised platform, on his back, eyes tightly closed. He, like all the waiting humbles, was in a sort of crab position over his platform. His arms reached down toward the floor, and his wrists were shackled. His knees were bent, and his ankles were shackled also. He had his eyes closed as he had been instructed.
Each man was in the same state. The minister, Veronica Chalmers, handed each girl a castration tool. The girls moved to stand between their humble’s legs. At the correct moment in the ceremony each girl stretched a hand forward and caressed her humble’s balls. Each found himself becoming aroused, having been given a stimulant before the event. Robert couldn’t resist the sensation of Stephanie’s gloved hand caressing his wrinkled ballsack. Her soft strokes and light touches made the blood surge into his knob. His cock rose, as did that of every man on every platform. The four girls smiled to see their obedient humble’s rampant cocks raised. Each girl pumped the erect flesh before them five times. Then they took the castration tools and positioned them at the base of each man’s sinful root. The men felt the devices, but their cocks remained firm. The girls closed their grips and the devices simultaneously severed the aroused members. As the blades crossed, they became superheated, instantly cauterising the wounds.
The girls all trapped the fallen genitals and pinned the still warm flesh beneath their sexily clad feet. At a signal from Veronica they each crushed the left ball, then the right, and then they stamped the still erect cocks flat. Now Veronica invited the girls to ascend to their true position. Each girl stepped up onto her humble’s platform, then knelt upon her humble’s chest. Robert, still with his eyes closed, felt the rounded, bony knees of his beloved pressing against his chest. He felt strangely warm and safe under her nylon clad shins and knees. It felt right to bear her weight. It felt erotic, despite the fact of his now lost and destroyed genitals, to feel the rough scratch of the nylon, the warmth of her flesh, and the crushing pressure of her weight. He felt her shift to keep balanced. He felt the toes of her shoes in his thighs and smiled.
Tara’s humble was also smiling. Aaron knew he was the luckiest man alive. He was glad and proud to have given his manhood to her. He loved the idea of this young girl kneeling upon him, using him like a piece of furniture. He loved to imagine her serene face and perfect features. Tara was indeed serene and beautiful. She was also aroused by the events so far. She was enjoying dominating her humble. She focussed her attention on the chest beneath her, on its rise and fall as her humble breathed.
Becky was similarly aroused. Her humble seemed pained and his breathing laboured. Beneath her, the poor man felt as if someone had wrapped steel bands about his chest and were slowly tightening them. He had to fight Becky’s crushing weight for every lungful. He felt the heat coming from Becky’s shins and this sapped his energy further.
Laura’s humble was having the easiest time of it. He could feel her bony knees and her shins but they barely compressed him. He liked the feel of her kneeling upon him and looked forward to her kneeling on him every Wednesday at church. He, like all the humbles, would serve his wife in this way for the rest of his life.
The girls remained kneeling upon their humbles for half an hour until Veronica signalled them to move. Stephanie along with every other girl on the altar stood, moved forward and placed her right knee on her humble’s exposed throat. Robert bent his head back a little further as she worked her knee in, threatening to crush his windpipe. Each man felt awed respect and fear at the pressure there, at that most vulnerable spot, and knew that his life or death depended on the kindness or cruelty of his new wife. In their community it was not unknown for girls to press the throat a little too firmly to rid themselves of an unwanted humble. Tara put more pressure on her humble’s throat until he started to cough and choke. She smiled and let up the pressure a little. Becky and Laura just applied light pressure. On a signal from Veronica, each girl moved and sat upon her humble’s face. Stephanie, Tara, Becky and Laura all raised their skirts, hovered their white cotton clad bottoms and sat. Each humble felt the soft warm surging flesh of his new owner engulfing his face. Each girl maneuvred until she was covering her man’s nose and mouth, then they remained still. The four girls took their oaths, and made solemn vows to control, punish and dominate their humbles. They lifted fractionally, as they had been taught, to allow their human seats/kneelers to breathe. Each girl received Veronica’s blessing before being encouraged to stay seated on their humble’s face until he passed out. All the girls did so, ignoring the faint pleas and vain struggles of their men until they fell still, silent and limp.
Thus did their married lives start as members of The Church Of Compression.