The trainee agent walked into the supervisor's office at 8 am. After their usual friendly greetings, she disrobed and stood naked in front of him. She had a shapely body, with pendulous breasts the bottoms of which, due to their quite astonishing diameter, hung amazingly close to her navel.
"It is good to be here, Sir", she said. "I always enjoy my lessons with you, and I look forward thoroughly to beginning my torture-resistance classes. I understand that some of the other agents in training who are more advanced than I consider these to be some of the most interesting classes that they have undergone."
"Yes," he said, "As you understand, some of the missions that our agents go on are quite dangerous, and in the unfortunate event that you become captured, there is a high probability that you will have to call upon all your ability to resist pain lest you compromise any crucial information."
"Sir?" she asked, looking at him bluntly. "Is it normal that when I consider this possibility, I feel a certain excitement?"
"It is not what I would call normal in the broader world", the supervisor said. "But it happens to be over-represented in our little sphere of activity. You see, to volunteer to work for our organization in such dangerous endeavours requires a certain breed of human beings. They are typically highly intelligent, bold, and adventurous. And these traits, among human beings, are often correlated with a high degree of interest in either the infliction or the reception of pain. Occasionally even both."
"However", he continued, "You must of course keep in mind that your... excitement... cannot be allowed to compromise your mission."
"Naturally, Sir", she said. "I would do my best to do nothing to endanger the mission no matter how mercilessly I was treated."
"I will be as frank as I usually am with you," the supervisor said. "And that is because I respect you as I respect all my agents and trainees. We would never have allowed you to join if we thought any less than the very best of you."
"In the course of your lessons," he continued, "You have already many times consented to receiving discipline upon your body on occasions when you had slipped in learning some subtle point of one of the many areas of knowledge that you must be a master of to be effective for this organization. And as your chief supervisor, I am well aware that for you this discipline was often accompanied by pleasure. Indeed, I encouraged it."
"Because it make the lessons more impactful," she said, "For the discipline that I craved to have been mixed with the pleasure that I also craved."
"Yes, he said, "But that is not the entire story. Our rather direct and kinetic approach to punishment has also all along been enhancing your ability to resist physical coercion, although of course please understand that I very much hope that you never have to test such skills anywhere outside of this training center. For you to understand what I have said so far makes up the first lessons of this particular class."
"Yes Sir," she said. "I understand perfectly and I welcome further lessons. All of our lessons have been extremely illuminating and exciting."
"I understand, dear," he said. "Now, if you happened to be captured by an opposing force, I am sure that you could guess what elements of your body would immediately attract them."
"Of course, Sir", she said. "There is nothing it would be likely to be, other than my breasts."
"Precisely," he said. "And why is that?"
"Because," she said, "They quite literally... stick out. To be honest, if I were to torture myself I do think that I would also begin with my breasts."
She was still standing in front of him. But now, as she spoke, she almost unconsciously began to sway slightly closer to his desk. There was something in her that made her want to bring her fat drooping breasts closer to his firm hands. She would have thought this urge unprofessional if it were not for some of their previous experiences - although, to be fair, even if it had been not for those previous experiences, the current conversation had excited her to the point that she may not have stopped herself in any case. Her nipples were stiffening to near to maximum capacity. The very air in the room, coming through the open window, seemed to be exciting her breasts just by moving past her skin, and she felt the urge to claw at the thick breast tissue, to squeeze it raw under her fingernails.
"If", the supervisor said, "If our organization allowed itself to engage in barbaric interrogations, then I also would likely begin with your breasts. But we do not allow it and we never will, for we are not the sort of scum that we fight against. And as we have consistently emphasized to you since you came on board, you are always free to leave our ranks at any time and for any reason. The only thing we insist is that you continue to hold secret whatever information we have already shared with you as a trainee."
"I understand, Sir," she said. "But if you wished to indulge yourself in barbaric methods in order to train me, even if it meant the most horrific pain, I would... I would only encourage you to be even more brutal than you could think possible."
"Good girl," he said. "But you do not really wish that."
She lurched closer to the desk with a sudden motion, surrounding the sharp angle of it with her crotch.
"This is unprofessional of me, Sir," she said, "But I must admit that I do wish it. 'Breasts' does not describe what these big things really are."
She held up her gigantic breasts with her hands, pointing them towards him.
"Do you know what they really are, Sir?" she continued. "Torture meat, pain-bags, udders meant to be beaten mercilessly, soft female flesh that must be tenderized brutally until the nerves at the very center of them send the pain-pleasure signals directly into... my mind, Sir!"
She buckled against the angle of the desk while still holding her breasts in her hands. Her mouth was distended and her cheeks extremely flushed.
"Ooooo God, Sir," she said... "Oh, oh... oh, God, ah... aaaahhh... aaah... aah... I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
A wave of pleasure washed over her and she had to breathe heavily for a minute to recover herself.
He beheld her slightly amusedly, but with respect.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said. "You are not the first and I doubt that you will be the last. It would not be the first time that you in particular have induldged yourself some pleasure from our interactions, either."
"Yes Sir," she said.
"I well remember it was just a few months ago that you yourself decided to thank me wildly in between the strokes, when I was belting your arse raw for having failed your own standards at the Level 3 written test of protocol."
"I remember that well, Sir."
"Memory is a great asset to any agent, young lady. Now relax, you are doing just fine. But keep in mind that we have only begun."
"I am overjoyed, Sir," she said, and sat down on the edge of the desk. "Now that I have worked that... energy... out of my system, I suppose it will only make things more painful for me when we get down to the real nature of this class."
"It could well be," he said. "That is precisely one of the things I have been attempting to teach you. The erotic energy works as a shield against pain, transmuting it. But it is good that you have expended some of it, for it is also important for you to keep a clear head."
"I want to keep the clearest possible head for what is to come, Sir," she said. "I want to not only understand the torture-pleasure, but I want to also have some understanding of the nature of unfiltered torture."
"Excellent, my dear. But do not insist on keeping it unmixed with pleasure for long. In the field, your pleasure is your ally."
He paused before going on.
"Now, what areas of those gigantic breasts do you think invite torture the most, young lady?"
"I am grateful to be asked that, Sir," she said. She leaned forward, squeezing the tops of her breasts, near where they met her chest, between the thumb and other fingers of each hand, distending the flesh and squeezing it forward toward him.
"I would begin at the top, Sir," she continued, "And proceed downward, ensuring as I go that each area of the breasts underwent the same level of mind-rending torture as the others and then continuing. And after that I would continue deeper into the breast tissue, hurting the insides more and more, and slowly moving towards the core, bruising each area viciously."
"Quite well conceived," the supervisor said. "You are indeed a sharp young lady. I am pleased with you as usual."
As he said that, he reached down into a drawer on one side of his desk. From it he pulled what looked like a gleaming, metallic set of tongs of a larger-than usual side, the sort that are shaped like and operate like a pair of scissors. These were large enough that it seemed it would require not just one hand, but two entire hands, to operate them. The tips of the tongs, instead of extending parallel to each other, bent inwards, tipped with blunt chrome cylinders rounded at their ends.
He stood up and extended the tongs toward her, holding the instrument with both hands, and moved it so that the chrome tips were on each side of the top of her left breast.
As he did this, almost instinctively she leaned forward over the desk so that both of her gigantic breasts hung as pendulously as possible underneath her torso, swaying from the movement.
"Please have no mercy, Sir," she said. "I am ready for the true heart of my lesson."
He moved his hands together, driving the tips of the tongs into the tissue of the upper part of her breast, then twisted them at an angle.
"Aaaaa..." A sharp gust of air escaped her mouth.
Crushing her breast tissue between the tongs, he began to rhythmically slightly open and then again close them, but each time he closed them it was a bit more tightly than the previous time.
She began to buckle back and forth on the top of the desk. Through all of this her eyes had never left his face. He made eye contact with her and at just that moment, closed the tongs even more than he had closed them before. Somehow their mouths found each other. They could feel the excitement of each others' tongues. She pulled away for just a second. Her voice was high and wild and her eyes shone with excitement.
"Be vicious, Sir. Please. Have no concern for my pain. Be vicious to my wobbling, fat, tit-meat."
Instinctively, he moved the tongs sligthly down to grasp a wider and fatter area of tit tissue, then closed them with a muscular snap of his arms, grinding the chrome tips closer and closer towards each other deep in the meat of her suffering breast, seeking the nerve endings deep inside.
"Aaaaaaaa," she screamed. And right after she screamed, their mouths found each other again. She pressed her body as close to his as possible while still allowing the tongs to do their unrelenting work, and the deeper he drove the pain implement into her breast, the more closely and wildly she kissed him with her fever-hot lips and her darting tongue.
It was the beginning of an excellent class for one of the most promising trainee agents that the organization had ever encountered and one of the most experienced supervisors that it could boast of on its roster.
"It is good to be here, Sir", she said. "I always enjoy my lessons with you, and I look forward thoroughly to beginning my torture-resistance classes. I understand that some of the other agents in training who are more advanced than I consider these to be some of the most interesting classes that they have undergone."
"Yes," he said, "As you understand, some of the missions that our agents go on are quite dangerous, and in the unfortunate event that you become captured, there is a high probability that you will have to call upon all your ability to resist pain lest you compromise any crucial information."
"Sir?" she asked, looking at him bluntly. "Is it normal that when I consider this possibility, I feel a certain excitement?"
"It is not what I would call normal in the broader world", the supervisor said. "But it happens to be over-represented in our little sphere of activity. You see, to volunteer to work for our organization in such dangerous endeavours requires a certain breed of human beings. They are typically highly intelligent, bold, and adventurous. And these traits, among human beings, are often correlated with a high degree of interest in either the infliction or the reception of pain. Occasionally even both."
"However", he continued, "You must of course keep in mind that your... excitement... cannot be allowed to compromise your mission."
"Naturally, Sir", she said. "I would do my best to do nothing to endanger the mission no matter how mercilessly I was treated."
"I will be as frank as I usually am with you," the supervisor said. "And that is because I respect you as I respect all my agents and trainees. We would never have allowed you to join if we thought any less than the very best of you."
"In the course of your lessons," he continued, "You have already many times consented to receiving discipline upon your body on occasions when you had slipped in learning some subtle point of one of the many areas of knowledge that you must be a master of to be effective for this organization. And as your chief supervisor, I am well aware that for you this discipline was often accompanied by pleasure. Indeed, I encouraged it."
"Because it make the lessons more impactful," she said, "For the discipline that I craved to have been mixed with the pleasure that I also craved."
"Yes, he said, "But that is not the entire story. Our rather direct and kinetic approach to punishment has also all along been enhancing your ability to resist physical coercion, although of course please understand that I very much hope that you never have to test such skills anywhere outside of this training center. For you to understand what I have said so far makes up the first lessons of this particular class."
"Yes Sir," she said. "I understand perfectly and I welcome further lessons. All of our lessons have been extremely illuminating and exciting."
"I understand, dear," he said. "Now, if you happened to be captured by an opposing force, I am sure that you could guess what elements of your body would immediately attract them."
"Of course, Sir", she said. "There is nothing it would be likely to be, other than my breasts."
"Precisely," he said. "And why is that?"
"Because," she said, "They quite literally... stick out. To be honest, if I were to torture myself I do think that I would also begin with my breasts."
She was still standing in front of him. But now, as she spoke, she almost unconsciously began to sway slightly closer to his desk. There was something in her that made her want to bring her fat drooping breasts closer to his firm hands. She would have thought this urge unprofessional if it were not for some of their previous experiences - although, to be fair, even if it had been not for those previous experiences, the current conversation had excited her to the point that she may not have stopped herself in any case. Her nipples were stiffening to near to maximum capacity. The very air in the room, coming through the open window, seemed to be exciting her breasts just by moving past her skin, and she felt the urge to claw at the thick breast tissue, to squeeze it raw under her fingernails.
"If", the supervisor said, "If our organization allowed itself to engage in barbaric interrogations, then I also would likely begin with your breasts. But we do not allow it and we never will, for we are not the sort of scum that we fight against. And as we have consistently emphasized to you since you came on board, you are always free to leave our ranks at any time and for any reason. The only thing we insist is that you continue to hold secret whatever information we have already shared with you as a trainee."
"I understand, Sir," she said. "But if you wished to indulge yourself in barbaric methods in order to train me, even if it meant the most horrific pain, I would... I would only encourage you to be even more brutal than you could think possible."
"Good girl," he said. "But you do not really wish that."
She lurched closer to the desk with a sudden motion, surrounding the sharp angle of it with her crotch.
"This is unprofessional of me, Sir," she said, "But I must admit that I do wish it. 'Breasts' does not describe what these big things really are."
She held up her gigantic breasts with her hands, pointing them towards him.
"Do you know what they really are, Sir?" she continued. "Torture meat, pain-bags, udders meant to be beaten mercilessly, soft female flesh that must be tenderized brutally until the nerves at the very center of them send the pain-pleasure signals directly into... my mind, Sir!"
She buckled against the angle of the desk while still holding her breasts in her hands. Her mouth was distended and her cheeks extremely flushed.
"Ooooo God, Sir," she said... "Oh, oh... oh, God, ah... aaaahhh... aaah... aah... I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
A wave of pleasure washed over her and she had to breathe heavily for a minute to recover herself.
He beheld her slightly amusedly, but with respect.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said. "You are not the first and I doubt that you will be the last. It would not be the first time that you in particular have induldged yourself some pleasure from our interactions, either."
"Yes Sir," she said.
"I well remember it was just a few months ago that you yourself decided to thank me wildly in between the strokes, when I was belting your arse raw for having failed your own standards at the Level 3 written test of protocol."
"I remember that well, Sir."
"Memory is a great asset to any agent, young lady. Now relax, you are doing just fine. But keep in mind that we have only begun."
"I am overjoyed, Sir," she said, and sat down on the edge of the desk. "Now that I have worked that... energy... out of my system, I suppose it will only make things more painful for me when we get down to the real nature of this class."
"It could well be," he said. "That is precisely one of the things I have been attempting to teach you. The erotic energy works as a shield against pain, transmuting it. But it is good that you have expended some of it, for it is also important for you to keep a clear head."
"I want to keep the clearest possible head for what is to come, Sir," she said. "I want to not only understand the torture-pleasure, but I want to also have some understanding of the nature of unfiltered torture."
"Excellent, my dear. But do not insist on keeping it unmixed with pleasure for long. In the field, your pleasure is your ally."
He paused before going on.
"Now, what areas of those gigantic breasts do you think invite torture the most, young lady?"
"I am grateful to be asked that, Sir," she said. She leaned forward, squeezing the tops of her breasts, near where they met her chest, between the thumb and other fingers of each hand, distending the flesh and squeezing it forward toward him.
"I would begin at the top, Sir," she continued, "And proceed downward, ensuring as I go that each area of the breasts underwent the same level of mind-rending torture as the others and then continuing. And after that I would continue deeper into the breast tissue, hurting the insides more and more, and slowly moving towards the core, bruising each area viciously."
"Quite well conceived," the supervisor said. "You are indeed a sharp young lady. I am pleased with you as usual."
As he said that, he reached down into a drawer on one side of his desk. From it he pulled what looked like a gleaming, metallic set of tongs of a larger-than usual side, the sort that are shaped like and operate like a pair of scissors. These were large enough that it seemed it would require not just one hand, but two entire hands, to operate them. The tips of the tongs, instead of extending parallel to each other, bent inwards, tipped with blunt chrome cylinders rounded at their ends.
He stood up and extended the tongs toward her, holding the instrument with both hands, and moved it so that the chrome tips were on each side of the top of her left breast.
As he did this, almost instinctively she leaned forward over the desk so that both of her gigantic breasts hung as pendulously as possible underneath her torso, swaying from the movement.
"Please have no mercy, Sir," she said. "I am ready for the true heart of my lesson."
He moved his hands together, driving the tips of the tongs into the tissue of the upper part of her breast, then twisted them at an angle.
"Aaaaa..." A sharp gust of air escaped her mouth.
Crushing her breast tissue between the tongs, he began to rhythmically slightly open and then again close them, but each time he closed them it was a bit more tightly than the previous time.
She began to buckle back and forth on the top of the desk. Through all of this her eyes had never left his face. He made eye contact with her and at just that moment, closed the tongs even more than he had closed them before. Somehow their mouths found each other. They could feel the excitement of each others' tongues. She pulled away for just a second. Her voice was high and wild and her eyes shone with excitement.
"Be vicious, Sir. Please. Have no concern for my pain. Be vicious to my wobbling, fat, tit-meat."
Instinctively, he moved the tongs sligthly down to grasp a wider and fatter area of tit tissue, then closed them with a muscular snap of his arms, grinding the chrome tips closer and closer towards each other deep in the meat of her suffering breast, seeking the nerve endings deep inside.
"Aaaaaaaa," she screamed. And right after she screamed, their mouths found each other again. She pressed her body as close to his as possible while still allowing the tongs to do their unrelenting work, and the deeper he drove the pain implement into her breast, the more closely and wildly she kissed him with her fever-hot lips and her darting tongue.
It was the beginning of an excellent class for one of the most promising trainee agents that the organization had ever encountered and one of the most experienced supervisors that it could boast of on its roster.
