This story was written with AI, and then revised by me (a lowly human).
The abandoned mirror leaned against the alley wall, its silver backing peeling away like dead skin. It reflected nothing but the dripping gutter above.
Kali materialized within the oval frame, her blue skin shimmering sapphire. Four arms pressed flat against the glass surface, panic twisting her haughty features. "Release me, mortal worm!" Her voice echoed against the bricks.
The man traced a finger slowly along the mirror’s edge. He inhaled sharply when Kali shifted, her large blue breasts straining against the trapped space. He rolled her over. The purple nipples hardened beneath his gaze.
He clenched a fistful of thick rope and grinned. Kali gasped as he looped it brutally around her exposed chest, cinching it tight until soft flesh bulged obscenely around the bindings. She cried out when he pinched a stiff nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting hard. The sharp scent of ozone mixed with the damp alley air.
Her skin felt like cool velvet beneath his hands. He lingered there, massaging roughly while Kali squirmed, her trapped arms trembling against the glass. Each tug on her purple nipples drew ragged breaths from her lips, her eyes flashing defiance despite the whimpers escaping her throat. He grabbed her breast firmly, squeezing until a bruise began blooming across the blue swell.
He stood the goddess up. Focusing entirely on her chest, he slid a palm under her breast, lifting its heaviness before letting it drop. The impact jolted her body. "Still proud?" he murmured, scraping a nail over her nipple. Kali arched violently, her clit visibly throbbing beneath her loincloth as she fought the ropes—not to escape, but to press harder against his torment.
Droplets of sweat traced paths down her abdomen. He watched fascinated as her breasts swayed with each strained movement, the purple peaks tight and aching. Kneading them relentlessly, he admired how the bindings carved deep ridges into soft flesh, each groan from Kali feeding his vicious satisfaction. Her breaths came faster now, shallow and urgent.
He leaned close, his voice a low growl. "Beg." Kali’s jaw clenched, but her nipple stiffened further beneath his thumb’s cruel circle. He pinched it hard, twisting slowly until a choked sob tore free. "Beg for my touch, whore goddess." Her hips jerked involuntarily, a wetness spreading visibly across her loincloth.
Releasing the nipple abruptly, he traced the swollen blue curve where rope met skin, pressing until she gasped. "Such pretty bruises," he murmured, dragging his knuckles over the tender flesh. Her breath hitched when he squeezed beneath her breast, lifting it to expose the vulnerable underside, purple veins stark against the darkening blue.
With deliberate slowness, he flicked her nipple with his fingernail—once, twice. Kali’s head snapped back, a ragged cry escaping as her body shuddered against the mirror. Her eyes glazed, pupils wide and dark, while her trapped fists balled helplessly against the invisible restraints. The scent of musk thickened the damp alley air.
He slid his palm flat beneath her breast again, lifting its weight until the rope dug deeper into blue flesh. Kali hissed, a tremor running through her as he rubbed rough circles into the sensitive underside, tracing swollen veins with his thumb. Her hips jerked forward, grinding against the cool surface, hips seeking friction he denied her.
Without warning, he pinched her neglected nipple. Kali screamed, arching violently, her breasts thrust toward him. "Please!" The word tore from her throat, raw and breathless. "It hurts— ahhhhh," she groaned whorishly. A bead of sweat trickled between her heaving breasts.
He obeyed her body’s signals, crushing both mounds in his hands, kneading the bruised flesh until she whimpered. Her nipples stood rigid, purple and wet with saliva he hadn’t realized he’d left. She moaned, low and continuous, as his thumbs circled them relentlessly—each rotation slower, heavier, drawing whorish gasps.
He laid her back on mirror and silently began to undo the bindings on her blue tits. “Don’t worry, we’re not done,” he assured her. “It’s just that this next part won’t work with traditional boob-tying techniques.”
Kali watched, eyes wide and dark, as he unfurled two lengths of coarse rope. Looping one around the base of each breast, he cinched it brutally tight, pulling until blue flesh bulged obscenely from the bindings. Her breath hitched with every tug, her nipples darkened further, her flesh straining against the hemp. Tears welled but didn’t fall—her pride still clinging even as her hips rocked against the mirror.
He threaded the rope ends through a rusted pulley bolted to the alley wall above her, yanking downward until her bound breasts lifted her entire torso off the mirror’s surface. Her arms scrabbled uselessly against the glass, suspended solely by the brutal pressure on her chest. The ropes creaked, biting deeper as her weight stretched them taut. She cried out—a ragged, desperate sound—as her breasts throbbed visibly, veins pulsing beneath the bruised skin.
He didn’t stop pulling. Her toes brushed the mirror’s edge while her bound breasts took her full weight, purple nipples pointing stiffly upward. Sweat slicked her skin as she dangled, breath hitching at each agonized sway. The pulley groaned as he anchored the ropes, leaning close enough to see her pulse flutter wildly beneath the swollen blue curve of her left breast. His fingertip traced it—a frantic drumbeat against his touch.
"Fuck," he breathed, palming one knotted breast. The ropes had squeezed her flesh so tight it formed dense, trembling spheres bulging from the coils. Like blue-skinned apples, hard and unyielding. He slapped one sideways, sharp and sudden. It snapped back violently, swinging with a wet smack against its twin. Her choked gasp echoed off damp bricks as they bounced side-to-side—rigid pendulums dripping sweat onto the gutter below.
Her skin gleamed now, slick as oil under the flickering alley light. He dug his thumbs into the bruised underside where rope met flesh, kneading the congested mounds. Each squeeze drew ragged whimpers as she swung helplessly. Her nipples throbbed purple-black, engorged and slick. He flicked one hard—a sharp sting that made her cry out—before catching the swaying breast again. Heavy. Electric. Alive with pain.
"You feel that?" He slapped her nipple rhythmically—tap-tap-tap—like testing ripe fruit. Her hips jerked against nothing, seeking friction as her breasts swung wildly. The scent of crushed arousal and salt filled the air. He grinned as sweat trickled from her collarbone onto his wrist. Cool. Metallic. Perfect.
Her breasts remained hard globes strained against hemp—unyielding blue spheres. He squeezed one, fingers sinking into swollen flesh. "Taut as drumheads," he murmured, dragging a nail across her purple areola. Kali hissed, the sound fraying into a moan as he slapped the other nipple sharply. The impact jolted her suspended body. Her eyes rolled back—pure sensation.
He slapped her left breast sideways. It snapped back instantly, colliding with its twin. Wet smacks echoed off bricks as her rigid mounds swung violently—pendulums of bruised flesh. Sweat gleamed on her blue skin like oil on water, dripping steadily onto grimy cobblestones. Each rebound tightened the ropes deeper. Bruises bloomed darker.
Fingers dug into a bouncing breast, stopping its motion. Kali whimpered—high and broken—as he massaged the congested flesh beneath the rope. His thumb found her nipple. Twisted. Hard. Her back arched impossibly. "Again," she gasped, voice shredded. Below, her loincloth darkened further. Wetness pooled at her thighs.
He released her breast abruptly, letting her sway again. Fingers slick with sweat trailed down her abdomen, beneath the soaked fabric. Kali froze. Fingertips slid through slick heat. He curled them into her wet cunt without preamble—a brutal thrust that punched a choked scream from her throat. Rough. Deep. Her hips bucked against his hand, seeking friction against agony. The scent of musk and wet stone flooded the alley.
Hooking a finger, he pulled down sharply. Kali’s pussy lips stretched taut beneath his grip—puffy blue folds parting obscenely wide. He stared into her exposed vagina, glistening purple-pink and swollen. Air hissed through her teeth. He pinched her clitoris—purple and distended—between thumb and forefinger. Squeezed. Hard. Kali shrieked, entire body spasming. Her suspended breasts swung violently. Tears streaked her cheeks.
Releasing her clit, he plunged two fingers back inside her gripping wetness. Scissoring them wide, he stretched her open wider. Kali gasped, hips jerking uncontrollably. He scraped a nail against her inner walls. She cried out—a raw, ragged sound. Drool slicked her chin. Her nipples throbbed purple-black against the bruised sky of her skin. Below, her hips ground against the empty air. Seeking. Needing. Denied.
He hooked his fingers deeper, curling upward. His knuckles pressed against the firm, dimpled barrier of her cervix. Kali froze. Eyes wide. Breath choked. He pressed harder—a slow, grinding pressure—until she whimpered. "Feel that?" he rasped. Her hips bucked wildly. Trapped muscles clenched around his fingers. He twisted his wrist. Her gasp dissolved into a low, shuddering moan. Sweat dripped onto his forearm. Salty. Hot.
Wrenching his hand free, he slapped her dangling breast—hard. The wet smack echoed. Flesh jounced violently. The ropes creaked. Kali screamed, arching against her suspended bonds. Her nipple bounced—dark, stiff, hypersensitive. He slapped the other breast. Again. Harder. The impact shook her entire body. Her cries fragmented. Eyes rolled back. Below, her cunt pulsed visibly, clenching around nothing. Wetness slicked her inner thighs. The scent of musk and salt thickened.
He gripped her puffy blue labia, cold fingers pinching the swollen folds. Pulling them taut—painfully stretched outwards. Skin like thin blue velvet. Kali hissed. Tears tracked through sweat. He tugged harder, exposing her gaping, glistening opening. "Look," he commanded, forcing her chin down. Her choked sob echoed as she stared at her own vulnerability. Bruised breasts swung heavily above. He released her folds abruptly. They snapped back. A shudder wracked her suspended body. Her breath hitched. Waiting. Trembling. Wetness sopped from her core. She bucked her hips against the air, desperately seeking release.
Her breath hitched, a jagged gasp tearing from her throat. "Please," she rasped, hips straining toward him, suspended breasts swaying obscenely. "Fuck me. Please." Her voice cracked on desperation, slick cunt pulsing visibly below the loincloth. Instead, he laughed—cold, sharp. With deliberate slowness, he scooped a handful of damp alley grime—crushed gravel, rotting leaves, gritty silt. Held it before Kali’s dilated eyes. Then he smiled coldly and shoved the filthy handful deep between her blue labia. Her scream shattered the alley’s silence as grit scraped tender inner walls. She convulsed wildly, ropes biting deeper into bruised flesh.
He didn’t stop. Fingers plunged after the dirt, knuckles stretching her impossibly wide. Kali’s back arched violently, muscles corded as she fought the invasion. Gritty sludge oozed from her stretched opening as he packed more filth inside—rotting leaf fragments, pebbles, the earthy tang of mud thick in the air. Her choked sobs turned guttural, spit flying as she thrashed against her bonds. Below, her clit throbbed purple-black against the debris-filled mess. He grinned, grinding his palm hard against her mound. “Still begging for cock?”
Her hips jerked uncontrollably, a wet trail of grime-streaked arousal slicking her inner thighs. He hooked two fingers deep inside her gritty passage, scraping silt-laden walls. Kali’s scream dissolved into ragged panting, tears streaming through sweat-slicked cheeks. Her suspended breasts swung heavily, nipples rigid bruises against bruised flesh. "Taste it," he commanded, shoving filth-coated fingers past her lips. She gagged, arousal and mud thick on her tongue, but sucked instinctively—starved for sensation. Her cunt clenched around the packed dirt, involuntary spasms milking the grit deeper.
He withdrew his hand abruptly, leaving her gaping and filthy. Kali’s head dropped, breaths shallow and rapid. The ropes groaned under her weight as she swung, each movement shifting the packed dirt inside her. A dark sludge trickled from her stretched labia, dripping onto the cobblestones below. Her eyes rolled back—half agony, half ecstasy—muscles fluttering around the gritty fullness. He watched, mesmerized, as a fresh gush of fluid mixed with the debris. The scent of crushed earth and sex hung heavy.
He stepped back, admiring his work. Her breasts swung heavily—pendulums of bruised flesh. He slapped one sharply. Smack. The impact jolted her entire body, ropes biting deeper into swollen blue skin. It bounced sideways, colliding with its twin. Thud. They recoiled violently, nipples taut and purple against the bruised sky of her azure chest. He slapped the other breast. Smack. It rebounded faster, slamming into the first again. Kali gasped, back arching. Drool slicked her chin. Her cunt spasmed rhythmically around the dirt, grinding particles against raw nerves. Each collision tightened the ropes. Bruises darkened like storm clouds beneath her skin.
He repeated it—once, twice—watching her breasts bounce in tight, agonized arcs. Sweat flew from her skin with each impact. Her hips jerked fruitlessly. Below, silt-laden slickness pooled beneath her swaying body. He grinned. This was perfect. She was suspended anguish—bound, violated, filthy. Her eyes met his, wide and glazed. Defiance flickered, then faded into submission. The pulley creaked as she dangled. He didn’t touch her again. Just watched. Her nipples throbbed visibly. Her breath hitched. Silence thickened, broken only by her ragged gasps and the drip of her shame onto stone.
Turning, he vanished into the alley’s gloom. Kali hung suspended—breasts swollen beneath cruel ropes, cunt packed with alley filth. Rain began to fall, cold droplets tracing paths down her blue skin. She shuddered. Hours bled into days. Years. Centuries. Rats scurried past her dangling toes. Ivy crept over the mirror frame. Passersby helped themselves to a rough grab of her bulging breasts, some even gave the mounds a hearty slap. Diligent bystanders made sure to refill her cunt with dirt. But her eyes—still haughty, still defiant—remained fixed on the spot where he’d stood. Her nipples hardened anew each dawn. Below, her pussy clenched instinctively around the grit—a phantom ache. Waiting. Always waiting. Waiting for freedom.