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Priestesses & farmers join sexual ceremony.

Now he just wants to humiliate me in front of his friends.

"Cindy, short for Cynthia Maria de la Rosa de Martinez," I begin, as I walk backward, my face still red. I look upward as the bright lights are so blinding. It's not I see a shadow coming closer. OH NO! He's coming at me! My body stiffens as I fear the worse. But he doesn't come at me. The shadow stops several feet in front of me. The shadow kneels and looks to be doing something on the ground. I can't tell what the shadow is, boy, girl, or even how big or small due to the lights.

Fire. A fire starts. It burns in front of me looking pitiful next to the blinding lights. My mouth drops open as it occurs to me...those are my clothes. They lit my clothes on fire.

"Keep going," the voice warns. "I...I...hate my breasts the most," I confess, the same as I told the non-existent John. "Ya tits? Why they huge!" Some redneck shouts. "I dislike them because they are rather large and get in the way. And to purchase a good fitting bra is very hard to find," I say the same as I told John.

"And I am very stupid to have come here," I admit truthfully. "It was a stupid choice to make, and I'm a stupid little girl for not seeing this was a trap. God I'm so stupid," I say and truly mean it. Then something horrible occurs to me. It's almost as horrible of a thought as when I knew this was a trap. I'm...aroused. I can feel it, burning between my legs. A warm salty sort of feeling that purrs within me, loving and hating all of this.

"Good girl...how about you tell us ya tit size, and that you are stupid...only with you making those fat things bounce?" The thick accented voice says and again laughter burns into me. As it burns the burning between my legs grows.

"My..." I start, lowering my upper body some while keeping my hands in the air, "tit size is..." I go on, straightening my back and making my breasts go up, and then down to bounce around. "My tit size is 44FF," I say, repeating the movement, making my overly large chest bounce all around comically. My face is red as I keep doing this, feeling the pain of them bounce and hitting myself.

"And I'm a stupid, silly, little, girl," I say, accenting each word with a slight hop to make my tits bounce as much as possible. As predicted, the laughter grows and grows and grows. I think I even hear someone fall over from laughing so hard. It's now I see the fire go out and I know my clothes are completely gone.

"Good, now, tell everyone the name those girls called you in gym class back when you were in the 6th grade," the voice commands. Him using my own knowledge against me feels like both a punch in the gut and like a lover telling me we are about to make the most passionate love ever.

"Jug McTitsBoobies," I say out loud, my tits still jiggling. Nothing but laughter for a moment, then I hear people yelling the name back at me. It's now I know that's going to be my name for the rest of the night.

"Alright Jugs McTitsBoobies, walk just like you are to your right," he commands, and feeling like I have no choice, and knowing that I disgustingly secretly enjoy this, I do as he says at once. I sidestep to my right, stopping my bouncing. I walk for 6 steps until I see why he's making me do this. Rope. ROPE. Rope hanging over me. It occurs to me, this is one of the fantasies I told John about. To be tied up like I was an old slave by a rich man who 'owns' me.

"You know what to do Jug McTitties," the accented voice declares and like I was a slave, I lift my hands into the loop of rope that's at the end of the rope. Then I hold onto the rope as it is lifted, so the knot stays still as the remaining excess of rope is pulled. It takes only 2 seconds before my hands are bound tightly and my body is strung up and helpless. I'm on my tiptoes to take some of the pressure, my body stiff and stretched.

I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I fell into this trap. And most of all, I can't believe I'm enjoying it.

"Now.

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