Adults only, no prudes.  If you don't like sex stories containing people
engaging in weird perversions, or you can't separate truth from fiction,
get lost.  The author does not advocate or condone anything that goes on
in this story.

This story is mine.  You can repost it or archive it only if 1) you
don't change it, 2) my name and this disclaimer remain attached, and 3)
you aren't making money off it.  That includes posting it on some
slimeball banner farm web site.  Yes, that means you!

You know the drill: If you like it, let me know.  You can find my other
stories in the following archives:

www.asstr.org/~Richard_Bissell
www.asstr.org/~MichaelD/
www.storiesonline.net (under authors, MichaelD38)

Overall Story Codes: Mf, MFf, Mm+/f, teen, bdsm, humil, mast, piercing,
oral, anal, gangbang

AMBER: THE MAKING OF A FUCK TOY

(C)opyright 2000 by Richard Bissell

---

Chapter 5.

Per instructions, Amber arrived at ten a.m. Sunday morning in another
one of her new outfits, this one an orange lycra minidress.

"My folks are kind of pissed at me," she said when she showed up.

"Why?"

"They wanted me to go to church this morning.  We had a fight about it,
then they left."

I smiled.

"You're a bad girl now, or at least on your way there.  Bad girls don't
go to church."

She nodded, not looking up at me.  I took her arm.

"Let's go."

---

We drove to Lincoln, about an hour away, because what I wanted do was
not possible in this little town we lived in.  I had made a few calls
last night after Amber left, and Lincoln was the closest place to do it,
at least the second half of what I had in mind.

The first place we went was downtown.  I parked outside the salon and
turned to Amber.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"Do you remember what I said yesterday about your pubic hair?"

She thought for a moment, then gulped.  She nodded.

"I want you to go in there and get a bikini wax.  Only tell the woman
that you want it all taken off."

Her face paled.

"All of it?"

"I know it will hurt.  But shaving leaves stubble and Nair is
disgusting.  You don't have that much hair.  It's not going to kill
you."

"But I would have to . . . "

"Get naked.  I know."

I watched her wavering in the seat beside me.

"Amber, modesty is for the good girls.  It's not a concept that's in a
slut's vocabulary.  Besides which, you had a strange woman's face in
your crotch last night.  I don't think this could be any worse than
that."

She took a deep breath, then nodded.  She got out of the car and went
into the salon.  I watched her going up to the counter, talking to one
of the women inside.  They talked for about thirty seconds, and Amber
seemed to be getting increasingly agitated.  Another woman came over.
Amber squirmed some more, glancing out the front window toward me.  I
saw the second woman shaking her head.  Then Amber came rapidly out to
the car, fighting tears.  She jumped into the car, swallowing gulps of
air as she tried not to cry.

"What happened?"

"They won't do it.  They said I need my parent's permission."

"Oh, shit."  I hadn't even thought of that.  Amber was, of course, only
seventeen.

I sat for a few moments trying to decide what to do.  Then I had an
idea.  I started the car and pulled away from the curb.

"What are we doing?"

"We're going to get married."

Amber gasped in utter shock, and I laughed.

"Not for real.  But I'm going to get us a couple of cheap rings.  Then
you'll be my wife and we won't need anyone's permission."

Understanding dawned in her face.

"Will that work?"

"I don't see why not."

I found a jewelry store nearby and had Amber stay in the car.  I bought
a couple of cheap, gold-plated rings, one with a little CZ in it, for
about forty bucks, and brought them out to Amber.  I gave her the one
with the stone.  She slipped it on slowly, and I had to fight the urge
to grin at the emotions filling her eyes.

"Does it fit?"

She wiggled it a little and nodded.

"Pretty much."

I put on mine and went looking for another salon. Amber kept looking
down at her ring as I drove around, extending her fingers and moving it
back and forth.

I found a different salon about ten minutes later.  This time I went
inside with her, and Amber nervously explained that she wanted a bikini
wax.  The girl behind the counter looked at me, then at the ring on
Amber's finger.

"Okay," she said.  "It'll be just a few minutes."

We sat down in the waiting area, and a stylist appeared a couple of
minutes later.  Amber went with her and disappeared into the back.

---

She was gone about half an hour, and when she returned, I could tell she
had been crying.  Her eyes were red and she walked gingerly toward me.

"You okay?"

She nodded, head down.  I paid the stylist and led her out to the car.
She sat forward on the seat, spreading her thighs.  I pulled up the hem
of her dress to inspect the results.

Her pubic area was angry red and swollen, but completely denuded.  I
stroked her gently, feeling the silky smoothness.  She flinched as I
touched her but didn't stop me.

"How was it?"

She took a ragged breath.

"It hurt _so_ bad.  _So_ goddamned bad."

"But it's over.  You did good."

I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.  She remained still, eyes
closed.

---

I took her to lunch and let her recover for about an hour.  She was
still sore, but her mood began to improve after we ate.

"It feels weird now, especially without any panties on."

"Drafty?"

She smiled.

"Yeah."

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand gently.

"Do you like it?" she asked.  "Does it look good?"

"It looks great."

"I'm trying.  I really am."

"I know you are.  If you weren't into this, I would have called it off a
long time ago."

She nodded, looking down at the table.

"Are we going to do anything else?"

"Yes.  Two things.  The first is fairly mundane."

"What?"

"Birth control.  There's a Planned Parenthood near the University.  I
want you to get a shot of Depo-Provera.  It will keep you from getting
pregnant for a few months."

She nodded.

"The second thing is not so mundane.  That part is going to be harder
than this morning."

Her eyes shot up, the fear rapidly returning.

"What is it?"

"This is less a slut issue than a fetish of mine.  I have thing for
girls with body piercings."  I watched her eyes swelling and went on.
"I know this is a lot to take at once, so I'll let you decide what you
want to have done.  Belly, nipples or clit.  It's your choice."

The blood had drained completely out of her face.  Her eyes closed, and
she began fighting the tears yet again.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"It's your decision.  I think you can guess my preference, but it's up
to you."

Her breath came in ragged draughts for a few seconds, and when she spoke
I almost couldn't hear her.

"My . . . "  Her voice trailed off as she fought to push out the next
word.  "Clit?"

"If that's what you want to do."

Her eyes opened, staring at me, moist and pale blue.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

I leaned back, reaching out to take her hand.

"Amber . . . ultimately, I think I'm going to want you to do it all.  So
it's not so important to me which is first.  But maybe you want to get
the hardest part out of the way."

Her eyes closed again.  Then she nodded slowly.

"So it's the clit?"

Another nod.

I leaned forward, taking her head in my hands and kissing the tears from
her cheeks.

"You're beautiful.  Just beautiful."

---

The Depo-Provera took us all of half an hour.  We walked in, Amber
explained what she wanted, and they fixed her up.  Then we set out for
the last event.

As near as I had been able to find out, there was exactly one place in
the entire state where you could get your clitoris pierced.  It was a
tattoo parlor not far from the University of Nebraska, so that was where
we headed.

It was the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday, so there was very little
traffic when we arrived.  Two bearded guys in their thirties, both of
whom looked like bikers, sat behind the counter watching television.
One got up as we came in, and I briefly explained what we wanted to do.

The guy looked Amber up and down.

"How old is she?"

"She's underage, but we're married.  I'll sign for her."

He grunted and dug around under the counter until he found a waiver for
me to sign.  I filled it out with various bogus information and then
scrawled a signature across the bottom.

Amber had been very quiet and pale, keeping her eyes down toward the
floor.  I held her hand to reassure her as we followed the guy into the
back.  He explained what was going to happen and had Amber lie back on a
massage table.  She screwed her eyes shut and held my hand tightly.  I
sat behind her, at her head, and stroked her face with my free hand.

The guy brought out a little box of rings, and I picked one I liked,
gold and about half an inch across.  Amber refused to look or even open
her eyes.  He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and began by disinfecting
her pubic area thoroughly.  Then he tore the needle and a few other
items out of their sterile wrappings and set everything up beside her.

"Where do you want it exactly?"

"Right through the middle."

He found a pen and marked a spot on Amber's labia, right next to her
clitoris.  She cringed, squeezing my hand even harder.

"How's that?"

"Perfect."

"You ready, hon?"

Amber nodded rapidly.  I bent down and held her face between my arms.
She took my other hand in hers.  I looked up as the guy brought the
needle into place.  As he pushed it through, Amber let out an agonized
squeal and every muscle in her body went rigid.  She squeezed my hands
so hard I felt my knuckles cracking.  I looked back down, seeing a long
silver needle stuck right through her clitoris, and I felt momentarily
faint.  But he deftly slipped the ring into the needle and slid the ring
into place.  A few seconds later it was over.  Amber was bleeding a
little now, and he cleaned her up for a moment or two.

"That's it.  You can rest as long as you need to.  It's a slow day."

"Thanks."

He left us alone, and I tried to comfort her.  She was still rigid under
me, sobbing now from the pain.  I stroked her face and kissed her gently
for a few minutes until the endorphins finally settled her down.

"You going to be okay?" I asked.

She nodded weakly.

"Does it . . . does it look good?"

"Just great.  Once it heals up, I think you're really going to like it."

"I really did it," she sobbed.

"You did."

"I did it for you."

"I know.  It means a lot."

"I'm yours," she whimpered.  "All yours."

---

Eventually Amber was able to stand up, and we went back out front.  I
paid for the piercing and the guy explained about keeping the area clean
and maintaining it until it was healed.  Then I helped Amber into my
car, and we headed home.

She held my hand most of the way, leaning against my shoulder.

"You want to know something funny?" she asked about halfway back.

"What?"

"It almost makes me horny.  It doesn't hurt so much as it makes me hot
now.  Everything is all swollen and throbbing down there."

"Just wait until it heals.  You'll be coming just from walking around."

She laughed softly.

"School is going be interesting now."

---

For the next week, I tried to keep things cool.  Amber did not come to
school on Monday, calling in "sick," although I had a good idea what the
problem was.  But she was back on Tuesday and did her best to behave
normally, even in P.E. class.  She was a little less active than
usual--no surprise there--but did her best.

That afternoon, I asked her stay after class for a minute.  When the
other students had cleared out, I handed her a brown paper bag.  She
tried to open the bag, but I stopped her.

"Wait until after school, when you're alone."

"What is it?"

"Two things you're going to need.  The instructions are inside.  How are
you feeling?"

"A little sore.  But okay."

"Good.  See you tomorrow."

She nodded and left.

---

In the bag were a butt plug and a pink jelly dildo, which I had
purchased in a nearby town after an extended search on Monday.  One
could find such things in Nebraska, but it still took a certain amount
of work.

I had instructed her to begin wearing the butt plug at all times, in
order to relax her sphincter muscles.  I intended to eventually use her
ass thoroughly, but she had to prepare first--I didn't want to tear her
apart.  The dildo was for her to practice oral sex and to learn how to
take a cock down her throat.  In the instructions, I had told her to
practice with it as much as possible so she could learn to suppress her
gag reflex.

The instructions also had another element.  I had asked her to plan
something for Friday night, to come up with something that would show me
she understood what it meant to be a slut.  I gave her no hints; it was
a test.  I merely told her I wanted to be impressed.

I watched her carefully in class on Wednesday.  The uncomfortable
squirming in her seat throughout the hour told me she was doing what I
had asked.

I had to fight the urge to grin.  I was really looking forward to seeing
her on Friday.

---

-To be continued.-

---

Amber: The Making of a Fuck Toy
Copyright 2000 by Richard Bissell
Free redistribution permitted; no commercial use without authorization

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.