The Little Olympics

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This is a Little Shop story about their BDSM Olympics.
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CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE, JANUARY 5, 2006

"Tuff-Cuff Disposable Satin Nickel Handcuffs"

"Check"

"Humane Restraint Nickel Finish Leg Irons"

"Check"

"Custodial Cuffing Lightweight Aluminum Handcuffs"

"Check"

"Tactical Hinged Handcuffs with Colored Coating"

"Check"

Soapy looked up from his pad wearily at his very pregnant daughter Selma, now The Widow Vesuvio-Soaperstein, who was busily checking off inventory.

"God I am so sick of this...let's give up on inventory and do something else, honey..."

Selma looked adoringly at her father, who she loved and worshipped, despite his having been 21 years of disappointment.

Being left to grow up in orphanages and foster homes while Daddy and Mommy shot dope and went to prison was bad, but he NEEDS me so much now!

And he feels so bad that my husband O.D'd....but now he's taking care of me...we're working together...whee!

Selma smiled adoringly at Soapy "Well we do have to send out the newsletters for the Little Olympics!"

Soapy shuddered

BRISTOL, RHODE ISLAND, JANUARY 11

It was a snowy day at Landon University. "Come on, lets go out and have a snowball fight...just for fun" Thomasine, a bottle blond in a snug black turtleneck said to Claire, Beth and Zoe.

Zoe, who was cleaning the ashtrays for the Kappa Gamma Sade smoking lounge, looked up hopefully.

Suddenly Zoe ducked, as a visiting male sophomore threw a half-full beer can at her. She was getting good, she didn't fall over this time.

Hopefully Zoe could get all this cleaned up before noon, as she had an organic chemistry final to study for.

"Do you want to come to the snowball fight, Zoe?" Thomasine asked, with a smile.

Zoe smiled. Maybe they want me...as a real friend this time! Not like that horrible Frisbee game last fall...

Frisbee,when they made me take off a piece of clothing every time I missed a catch, or when they played "Zoe Ping-Pong" in the arcade room. Things might be different now.

Zoe remembered her father's horror when she transferred to Landon, which he considered quite a mediocre school "You were brilliant, even in third grade," Daddy said "

You could diagram complex sentences, explain the muscular system by which a snake moves, differentiate the Hollenzollern versus the Romanov dynasties...

And now you leave a four year academic scholarship at Bennington to go to this terrible school just because you like the description of their sorority house?"

But it was true...Zoe had transferred to Landon just because of this house and these girls...even though they were so cruel...

No one was ever cruel to Zoe at Bennington, where her naturally curly blonde hair tossed in the wind as she walked...everyone worshipped Zoe there.

This wouldn't happen with Zoe's hair here, because Claire had decided that Zoe was too vain about her hair, and she'd shaved Zoe's head...and did it every week now, and Zoe had learned to keep from sobbing when she did...

Why were they so cruel?

Remember that horrible camping trip where Thomasine and Claire had whipped Zoe's breasts with those thorny branches and offered her beautiful mouth up to homeless tramps who had been wandering by!

Dressed as she was in miniscule panties and high heels, it had been quite exhausting scrubbing the bathrooms, cleaning the other girls rooms and going down on that bitch Heather McPherson and her boyfriend, the engineering major...all this before breakfast!

It was especially galling since Zoe was as well off, actually financially better off than many of the women at Kappa Gamma Sade; but she had to clean, as she was the sorority drudge...

And though her buttocks ached from the hairbrush spanking Beth had given her last night in the Student Union in front of the clapping, drunken Men's Rugby team, Zoe wouldn't have it any other way.

After all, when it had been time to fill out what you wanted for a dorm, there had been so many alternatives—

There was a Sober Dorm, Christian Fellowship Dorm, a Study Dorm, a Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender Drop-in Support Group, an African-American Center...

And Zoe had been so excited when she'd read about the Kappa Gamma Sade house!

She'd actually transferred from Bennington, where she'd been a Campus Cutie, Homecoming Queen, Rose Bowl Princess and pampered girlfriend of a top accounting major—

No one could understand leaving a great school like Bennington...

Leaving all that to transfer to Landon,a mediocre safety school which had a shittier Environmental Economics program (Zoe's major) but DID have Kappa Gamma Sade..."The Sadomasochistic Sorority"...and Zoe had hesitantly put in "submissive" under "orientation".

And now...she was one of 14 sub girls serving 128 dominant women students...and their drunken, leering boyfriends. And Zoe was quite happy...except that sometimes she wanted a regular friendship...was that going to happen today?

After all, Thomasine was being so nice, though when Zoe had brought her breakfast in bed that morning, Tommie had thrown hot coffee on Zoe's bare breasts because Zoe had forgotten to put in the Spenda.

"Okay, I'd love to, let me just get my clothes on." Zoe was so excited, she ran to put something on to cover up her meager bra and panties. "No no!"

Claire and Thomasine said, jumping up, and grabbing Zoe by the shoulders. "We're going to need a target...bind her wrists just as she is, Beth."

Beth screamed for the other girls and suddenly Zoe's bra and panties were being ripped off, and she was being bound and cuffed, and she was hauled out of the House and into the snow.

"P-please no...this is too much." Zoe was struggling, but with her hands cuffed behind her, she fell to her knees in the slush.

Tommie, Beth and the other girls, bound up in their comfortable parkas, were throwing cold snowballs at the shivering, naked girl, who was bursting into tears.

Claire, as she packed a small rock in her snowball to zero in on Zoe's 36DD breasts (Claire hated it that she herself was so flat) whispered in Thomasine's ear. "Did you get my e-mail? About the Little Olympics? We are going to take Zoe there, right?"

Tommie grinned, as she hit Claire in the right eye with a particularly painful snowball. "You bet your ass, girl..we are entering her in EVERYTHING!"

Zoe, suffering as she was, heard the phrase "Little Shop Olympics" and shuddered more...

She'd attended the Little Olympics the year before as a spectator, and knew how much WORSE it would be as a participant...

Oooh, an ice-ball hit her bald head, and it just HURT.

As Zoe dodged cold snowballs, she realized what she was going through right now was NOTHING compared to the Olympics.

SPOKANE, WASHINGTON, JANUARY 20

Austine smiled at Aristotle Hacker Binks, as he stood, naked except for his chastity device, in the ornate parlor. "I guess it's time, sweet...you look so anguished."

The peitite redhead (this week; last week she was a platinum blonde) smiled at her loving husband...

Aris ground his teeth. "It's been 95 days, Austine, and I've attempted to do your bidding." All the housework, the constant licking between her legs, the many presents...

Aris had never known what a startling difference there was between fantasy and reality when he'd answered the Perv.com ad that had read

"Pouting domme looking for wealthy, submissive husband willing to give up 80% of sexual pleasure."

"Imagine that..." Austine meditated, running her tongue across her lips.

"Ninety-five days...twelve weeks of licking my little body nightly, sucking me to screaming orgasms...cleaning all the spooge out that your gardener shot in me...Jorge does spurt, eh, Aris?" Austine sniggered.

She loved the desperate look, and of course the condition of poor Aris's balls, purplish-blue...and when she did remove the chastity device, seeing his poor, thickened, chaste penis drip in desperation...

and she loved teasing him about sucking off the gardener!

Aris refused to take the bait, looking depressedly at his locked penis.

"And the sad little looks you give me when I sent you off to bed, night after night, in your little maid's room, to try to sleep with your huge, locked hard-on...

Sometimes you'd cry, Aris, and it just broke my heart." But Austine giggled merrily.

Aris had to control himself. If he lost his temper, Austine might make things difficult for him.

He'd been a little sharp with her yesterday, and she'd made poor Aris hang by his nipples in the basement for nearly three hours!

And she had to let him cum...he'd been such a good boy. But she was so hard to pin down...but it had been three MISERABLE MONTHS.

With his skills at bargaining and debating, Aris should be able to convince darling Austine to keep her part of the bargain..couldn't he?

"Darling please...you always have me keep my commitments...you promised, darling...,

Can I get unlocked now...you promised, if I did the nice-nice with my mouth for the men at the homeless shelter last night?" Aris asked with pleading eyes. These were terrible arguments, but what else did he have?

"I did say yes..." Austine smiled "And you do deserve it..."

Aris's heart leaped in his mouth...Oh boy...

"But then I got this in the mail!" Austine flashed a paper at him, and then handed it to Aris to read.

Aris bit his lip. "You-you're entering me in the Little Olympics again this year?"

Austine smiled. "Yes, same category...and so we have to practice denial!"

Aris shook his head. "P-please, Austine...can't I cum and start over...it's more of a, um challenge that way!" He'd become a millionaire with his argumentative skills...

Austine shook her head. "No, I think not." Austine smiled sunnily. "I think we're going to keep you chaste til after the Chastity Meet in June. Sorry, hon." She turned to her knitting.

"B-but it's not fair!" Aris lost his temper. "I-it's been since November, and I came by accident that time, when you were teasing me, I got punished...It's not fair!"

Aris kicked the coffee table, and Austine's eyebrows shot up. Reaching for a little bell, Austine's pink nails rattled it.

The curtain to the parlor opened an a muscular young man walked in."Yes, Mrs.Binks?"

Austine gracefully rose. "Liggins, I am going upstairs to meet my Pilates instructor. Mr. Binks has just begun a tantrum. Could you take him downstairs and work him over with the Spencer paddle and the tawse?"

Liggins smiled as Aristotle backed off. "Yes, of course. Come with me, Mr. Binks."

As Aris was dragged away, protesting, Austine walked to the door, mentally remembering that she had to call and confirm to the Little Shop...

LAREDO, TEXAS, FEBRUARY 3

"Yahh!" Jillian's South African police baton whacked Jody on the back as the older woman tried to pull her husband's girlfriend in the chariot.

Walking by Jody, her husband, Garland-Fitzhugh Simms lifted his rattan cane and brought it down on her shoulders. "Git a move on, honey...we ain't goin' to win that gift certificate with you ploddin' like that."

Using all her strength, Jody dragged the sticks at the end of the cart and it began to move.

Garland Fitzhugh took a different tack and used his cane to ring a cowbell...Jody gasped, and Jillian, in the chariot seat, laughed maniacally.

Jody also felt a bit weighted down because Jillian insisted on interlocking cow bells onto the rings in Jody's nipples.

Jody had never realized that her fifties would be like this. She was terribly excited when her husband dominated her, but this little bitch was driving her insane.

SLASH! Jody felt a cruel cut against her earlobe. The girl must have picked up the horsewhip.

"That's right, Jillian!" Garland-Fitzhugh screamed back at the chariot "Give it to her! She ain't goin' to move unless she's encouraged!"

Garland-Fitzhugh slapped the cane across Jody's buttocks, opening up another sore that Jody had gotten after Jillian and her friends had sucked sugar cubes injected with STP or elephant tranquilizer and gone too far with a scourge.

LASH! LASH! Jillian cracked the whip enthusiastically, and long red welts appeared across Jody's back.

SMACK! CRACK! Garland-Fitzhugh's cane caught Jody right under her chin. "Move, you stupid, menopausal old drudge!" her loving husband hollered.

Her weariness suddenly gone, Jody began running with the cart, and the follow up lash that opened an old blister on her back helped her along.

All last night Jillian and Garland-Fitzhugh had put out Marlboro Lights on Jody's ass (as she was acting as human hassock) and talked about how this year, Jody would win the Human Pony Chariot Races, or they'd know the reason why!

"Yee-haah!" screamed Jillian. "You're fast for an old pig! We're going to take the gold cup home this year from the Little Olympics, you best believe that"

"You better, Jody" Garland-Fitzhugh warned, as his cane swung dangerously close to her tender shoulder. "I don't want a repetition of last year, when that woman Mistress Nightshade's husband beat you...that was REAL humiliating for Garland-Fitzhugh, hon."

Last year had been a horrible mess. The Olympics were such a bad memory!

Jody had done well enough in the Qualifications, beating out Master Thumbscrew's champion runner, Shirley, and a mess of newbie runners. Garland-Fitzhugh had been so pleased with Jody's placing that he'd allowed her to masturbate herself on her knees with a cucumber in the stalls!

But then in the race, Jody had fallen back, though through no lack of enthusiasm from her jockey. Garland-Fitzhugh's previous girlfriend, a Miss Shauna Blum, who he'd met at a dental hygienist's conference in Houston, ahd been in the driver's seat of the chariot.

Shauna had not had much practice with a whip, but she was an expert fly-fisher, and thus had a good throwing arm—Jody'd been all over welts during practice sessions!

"Jump it Hogina" Shauna would say, as she cracked the whip..."Hogina" was Shauna's pet name for Jody, and she really got work out of the older woman, pulling that damn cart.

So Jody had been getting ahead, and soon it was she and Mistress Nightshades' boy, Slave Orvard, a statistician for the Navy, who was a fairly good runner.

But Jody had lost quite a bit of weight on the strict diet that Garland-Fitzhugh had put her on—four celery stalks and a bowl of weak carrot soup a day, eaten on her knees in the kitchen while the rest of the family enjoyed the sumptuous meals that Jody had cooked previously.

So Jody, trimmed down to 134 pounds, had really been pulling the cart, and Garland-Fitzhugh had been cheering wildly from the Little Olympics sidelines, blowing his whistle.

Garland-Fitzhugh had had heavy bets on Jody's winning with various lesbian dommes in the seats, and others were also placing bets on Jody in the $2 Trifecta, though they were playing three runners, hoping they'd come in first, second and third in exact order.

The Trifecta had been Jody, then Orvard, and then last Master Pagan's wife, Antoinette-Marie, but known to one and all as Ectoplasm...she was fast, but not as fast as Jody!

It had been going great in the final round, everybody excited watching the naked "ponies" pulling the chariots...and Jody had been in the lead, but then she'd stumbled, and Orvard had zoomed by with Nightshade, breasts bouncing in her leather tank top, hurrying him on with a cat o 9 tails!

As Soapy had handed Nightshade the trophy and the gift certificate, Nightshade had snapped her fingers, allowing Orvard to drop to his knees and jerk off before the cheering crowd...his first orgasm in seven months!

And Jody...oh, it had been bad! Enraged, Garland-Fitzhugh had jumped over the fence, and run at her with his gold knobbed walking stick, and begun thrashing her before she even got the bit out of her mouth!

He'd whacked and slashed the poor woman until he'd had to be dragged off by other Masters...and she'd spent six weeks at the Little Shop Kennel under a Purple designation—not too good!

So Jody knew she had to get with it this time!

Now, she looked earnestly at her husband who was waving the cane. "I won't disappoint you, Garland-Fitzhugh. We'll get the cup and the gift certificate this year, dearest."

As Jillian landed another lick on Jody's rotund, cellulite covered bottom, she began singing "The Yellow Rose of Texas " at the top of her lungs.

PERTH, AUSTRALIA, FEBRUARY 11

Ronald Demphill smiled uncertainly at Dr. Artemis Iglehart as she spoke animatedly to his wife. "The Little Shop, I know you've heard of it..."

Payton smiled. "Of course! Ronald and I order most of our equipment from the store in Wilmington, Delaware in the States!" She smiled at her husband, who was looking a bit nervous.

"Ronald really had a reaction to the cattle prod I got there...he's quite anal retentive."

Dr. Iglehart smiled, unconsciously shaking her auburn hair down on her right shoulder.

Payton and Ronald were her favorite couple. Payton with her short blonde hair and large firm breasts, and her sweet but somewhat backward husband, Ronald.

Of all the couples that came for sex therapy Dinsmore-Iglehart Matriarchial Clinic, the Demphills seemed as if they'd come the farthest.

"I just was so entertained, Payton, by your description of Ronald and the cinderblock ball weights, that I thought you might be interested in becoming eligible to compete in the United States hosted Little Olympics.

This is a series of contests which are sponsored by the Little Shop's head store, in Concord, New Hampshire."

"Olympics, you mean to perform? I don't think.." Ronald's interruption was stopped as Payton smiled at him.

"Ronnie, darling, you know what Mummie said about speaking out of turn? We agreed I would do the talking here, didn't we?"

Payton bent her blonde bob over her purse, shuffling until she pulled out a thick wooden hairbrush, which she tapped impressively against her pale blue halter top. "Do you feel the need, darling for..."

Ronald shook his head, blushing, and Dr. Iglehart smiled.

"As I was saying, Payton, you could just take a two week trip to the U.S., and enter Ronald, and if he won you'd get quite a generous gift certificate...and there are other contests, such as the Long-term Masturbation-thon, where the man who holds out the longest wins...quite exciting, and of course the dart tossing and the chariot races."

"D-dart tossing?" Ronald asked, aghast.

"Yes, it's a form of nipple torture." Dr. Iglehart said, sweetly.

"Did you speak again, Ronald?" Payton asked severely. "I think you'd better drop your breeches, darling." As Ronald shook his head, Payton stood up, exercising her long legs, and dragged Ronald up off his chair by his ear.

As Dr. Iglehart smiled, Payton unzipped and pulled down Ronald's Armani pants and pulled him over her knee, ripping down his silk boxers.

As the hairbrush fell heavily against his white bottom cheeks, Dr. Iglehart put the Demphill's name down as a possible contestant couple for the Little Olympics.

The girls giggled as they approached the Breast Hanging event, housed in a huge barn. Stopping just inside the dor, they conferred.

"Oh my God--did you see that weird guy in the leather thing" Thomasine giggled to Beth, who made a puking motion.

Claire tossed her strawberry curls. "I like, can't believe there are so many FAT people involved with S&M. I know lots of OLD people are in it, you know, in their thirties and forties, but why do they have to be so goddam FAT? At least our Zoe here isn't like, a chub."

Claire accidentally-on-purpose nudged Zoe right in her tube topped breasts, so that they hurt. But Zoe didn't say anything. as always. The girls had kindly allowed Zoe to grow her hair so that it now fell over her shoulders a bit in curls...they wanted their "heifer to look hot".