Once Upon A Time in Latin America: Part 2

Part 1

Hacienda Coelho, Bom Jesus da Lapa, Brazil, Sunday 1st December 2019

“Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with you…”

Adriana shifted on her knees as she recited the prayer. Which number was this one now? She didn’t have a clue, but she reckoned it to be around two hundred and something. Half an hour or so to go.

Today was the first day of Advent and, even though she had already attended Mass in the hacienda’s tiny chapel, she was still expected to recite five hundred Hail Marys on her knees as part of an ‘intensified spiritual programme designed to fully honour the glories of the holy season.’

Designed by Sister Carina. As so much of her life was these days. If she could get rid of one thing it would be that accursed woman who was sitting opposite her, her hands in prayer, making sure that she didn’t stumble or miss out her prayers. If she did, that would mean more punishment and Adriana’s bottom was still smarting from the smacks that she’d received on Friday.

Fridays were now her ‘Day of Divine Judgement’ when all her sins for the week were totted up (by Sister Carina) and then the required number of smacks was then administered (by Sister Carina). Adriana thought it strange that the nun did not use a paddle or a cane, but instead did it all with her bare hands. Indeed, she seemed to enjoy it, the skin-to-skin contact as well as causing the jolts of pain. And, after every smack, Adriana had to repeat the words, “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.” It was most humiliating, particularly since the words came out, as her prayers did now, in that squeaky, silly little girl voice that she now possessed.

Indeed, when she thought about it, she wasn’t even sure if Sister Carina was a proper nun. She dressed like one and was introduced as one, but she had none of the holiness that personified the nuns who had taught her in the school as a child. Carina seemed to revel in her power and her religion seemed to be but a mask. She wondered where Don Roberto had found her. Did he genuinely think she was a pious sister or was he in on the act too? No, if she could rid herself of one thing, it would be Sister Carina!

She stopped her thoughts even as she thought them, though the words carried on. “Holy Mary Mother of God, pray for us sinners…” Would Carina be the one thing that she would change? Carina made her life hell, but then so did a lot else beside. Indeed, ever since she had entered this living nightmare in the hacienda then…

She recalled that awful day when she’d woken up in her room and been shown her new body. Everything about it disgusted her. Those enormous, obviously fake breasts, like two beach balls affixed to her chest, a statement to the world that she now existed only to titillate men. Roberto had hinted at a tit job when they were dating, and the thought had appalled her. Women shouldn’t have to alter their bodies to please their menfolk.

Yet her body had been altered beyond all recognition! Not just those debasing boobs, but her blowjob lips, cartoon waist and… whatever it was they had done with her pussy.

The fact is that, in recent years, ever since losing her virginity, Adriana had developed something of a sexual appetite. When not in a relationship, she had enjoyed nothing more than working herself to a leisurely climax with her fingers. These days though, that was doubly impossible. Firstly because her pussy, when Sister Carina or her maid touched it – another reason to suspect the nun’s backstory, what sort of nun strokes the pussy of another girl? – the area was numb, the stitching and metal cross meaning that no feeling could get to her precious nubbin. The first time she learned that she had wept.

But the second reason was even worse. Indeed, now she thought of it, it would not be Sister Carina that she would change, but her arms.

A life without arms. Essentially, that is what she now led. Except that they were there, folded uselessly, elegantly, piously, behind her back, the rosary dangling from her redundant fingers, swaying and rattling whenever she moved. She never realised just how important arms are to the most basic things in life until they weren’t there. Opening a door, now impossible, so if a maid just pulled a door shut, let alone locked it, she was essentially a prisoner. Balancing as you walk and move. It took her over a month before she could walk without her maid’s support. Ok, so that wasn’t helped by her awful yet elegant boots that forced her to stand on tiptoes at all times, but even so, arms are essential and, even now she feels vulnerable whenever she moves since who will catch her when she falls? Feeding oneself, drinking a coffee, wiping your bottom, all of those most simple of tasks, now totally impossible. In a moment she had become as helpless as a babe.

Whilst she thought of this, she was reminded of the huge nappy around her bottom. Unable to go to the toilet unaided and unable to signal for help when she was gagged – which is most of the time – then the nappies were there as a safeguard. As much as anything though, they symbolised her regression from an independent, confident young woman into a dependent child. Thankfully, none of the visitors to the hacienda, or servants aside from Sister Carina and her maid, knew about it. That was the one saving grace of the ridiculous costumes that her “husband” decreed she wore daily from now on.

Every morning, after her waking and bathing, she was dressed in an outfit that could only be described as “outlandish”. Inspired by traditional Catholic dress, it incorporated wide skirts and a tightly-laced waist, but with a large décolletage surrounded by exquisite white lace. Around her neck was hung copious quantities of jewellery as proof of her new status as Dona of the hacienda. By exposing her mammoth breasts, it made Adriana feel even more conscious of her new look, particularly when female visitors arrived who were clad in more usual attire. It seemed designed only to mark her out as special when what she most wanted to do was hide.

“Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with you…” What number was this now? Had she reached three hundred yet? She could count but her tallies never matched Sister Carina’s and even if she knew she was right and the nun wrong, what restitution could she appeal to? Her mind drifted to the only other person in her life these days: Don Roberto Coelho.

Her husband.

Except he wasn’t. she’d accepted his proposal once – what had she been thinking? – but they’d not wed. She knew that, he knew that and both her maid and Sister Carina knew that. But to the rest of the world, she was Dona Adriana, the mistress of the hacienda, a lady of great piety and wealth who had chosen to live in this extreme fashion to demonstrate her dedication to both her husband and her faith.

A faith that, until a couple of months ago, she’d only ever paid lip service to.

Don Roberto. Don Roberto. Don Roberto and Dona Adriana.

The man was an enigma to her.

She hated him of course. She hated him virulently and with a passion. For kidnapping her and turning her into… this. This thing, this object, this perverted fantasy of piety and sexual appeal, sort of uber-Catholic Barbie doll.

Yet at the same time, hate wasn’t all that she felt. When they were together – which was frequently, he would hold her close. He was gentlemanly and considerate and, although it was clear that she excited him sexually, he was always proper. If his hand brushed ever brushed one of her obscenely gargantuan tits, he would apologise profusely and blush. He was gentle and considerate and spoke happily of the days when they dated and his hopes for a married future and the children they would have.

“So why don’t you just rape me here and now since you’ve made it impossible for me to resist you!” she screamed at him one day. He had looked back at her sadly, wiped her tears and hugged her warmly. “That would be wrong, my dearest. To do that to a woman who is not my wife and a religious woman at that!” And with those words, she felt almost guilty for her outburst.

“Why have you turned me into this freak you evil piece of shit!” she had yelled at him one day. His response had been equally caring and his words merely, “I did it because I thought it best for you. To bring you closer to Christ.”

And at the time she almost believed him.

Countless times he had said that, if she ever did decide to reaffirm her assent to their nuptials (in his mind, her leaving him was due to some temporary loss of sanity), then he would get Father Rodriguez to marry them in the hacienda chapel and she could enjoy the full rights of a married woman. And many’s the time, she had to admit that it tempted her. After all, she was living as his wife as it was, without any of the benefits. He controlled every aspect of her existence and yet she had no sexual release, no chance of begetting children and no authority within the hacienda. Surely, if she relented, life would be considerably better. She’d even asked him about what she could expect if she did relent and he’d hinted that her spiritual regime under Sister Carina could be eased and children could be thought of, let alone the prospect of some sexual release and some unspecified changes to her pussy which he described as “currently suitable for a chaste maiden but not appropriate for a married woman”. What on earth was that meant to mean?

And surely whatever it meant would constitute an improvement?

But no! No, she could not! Saying she would marry him would mean defeat. It would mean no going back! It would mean submitting to his evil designs.

Even so, the ache for release was there, constantly, more and more and, since he was the only man she ever saw, her sexual fantasies increasingly focussed on Don Roberto Coelho. She needed some distraction from them, to turn her mind to something else. She concentrated on her prayers trying to force his face from her mind. “Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus…”

Yet still his face remained.

 

Hacienda Coelho, Bom Jesus da Lapa, Brazil, Friday 6th December 2019

Don Roberto Coelho sat in his smoking room with his guest for the weekend. Eduardo Silva had just arrived in his chopper from Rio and was relaxing after the long journey. Both men were watching a large screen which was showing a live feed of Adriana’s bedroom whilst two prostitutes from the local town were sucking away on their cocks.

“Amazing what you have done to her. Can hardly believe it’s the same girl,” said Silva. Adriana had once been the au pair to his children. Indeed, it was he who had first spotted her and suggested to Coelho that he might have found a suitable fiancée for him. He’d long known how his friend had a penchant for bubble butts and this girl had one to die for. Even so, what had happened to her since at the clinic had taken her to another level.

“I know. That place is good. Expensive but good. Doctor Carlos is a genius.”

“I know. What he did to that mistress I have installed in my Sao Paulo apartment is something incredible. Even so, I think that this vision of yours for Adriana is beyond anything I have ordered. It is so perverted, a parody of both piety and her grown-up sensuality. How did you think of it?”

“I didn’t. I got the idea from some stories I read on the internet. Guy called Cafterhomme and another called Dave Potter wrote them. Two sick puppies but very imaginative.”

“Didn’t the latter one write some corset-related stuff a while back? Tiny waists, armbinders, that kind of thing.”

“That’s him. Read his latest stuff. He gets sicker with age whilst the Cafter guy just started off deranged.”

“Nice. I’ll look them up. So, what’s happening now?”

As they watched a figure in a grey habit was positioning Adriana on the bed, her enormous butt sticking into the air whilst her tits were squashed beneath her. Her two booted feet were chained to the bottom bedposts, so her legs were spread.

“She’s preparing her for her weekly punishment. She’s racked up six sins this week, which is less than usual, but there’ll be six wonderful wallops on that beautiful big butt of hers.”

“And who is the nun?”

“Oh, she’s not a real nun. Carlos recommended her. She used to be a nurse in the clinic. Real sick puppy; gets off on it all. Bi-sexual. She keeps a bitch in her room for her to play with but that doesn’t stop her getting horny on my wife. Plays the nun role well. She’s Adriana’s spiritual companion. Has instituted a strict piety regime which my darling wife-to-be is struggling with.”

“Any movement on that front? The marriage I mean?”

“Any day now. She’s already made several enquiries about what concessions I’ll give if she agrees. She wants Carina gone and she’s desperate to be fucked.”

“I don’t doubt it. When I saw the cocktail of aphrodisiacs, you’re keeping her on, I’m surprised that she’s lasted this long. Will you get rid of Carina?”

“Yeah. She’s expensive and it’s getting a bit boring now. The clinic already have another assignment for her. A teenage daughter of a Colombian drugs baron. She likes young flesh and has hinted she wants to leave. I reminded her of her task and that’s why she’s ratcheted up the regime. Adriana is about to crack. Yesterday I let it slip that, when she relents, her new pussy arrangement will allow her to feel clitoral pleasure again.”

“You’ve got her on some strict chastity thing now, right?”

“No feeling whatsoever. She’ll find it a contrast after our wedding.”

“Details?”

“I’ll show you the diagrams later. I’ve already commissioned the pieces. You’ll love it!”

“Question is, will she?”

The two men laughed and took a sip from their brandies. Sister Carina was now reciting Adriana’s sins and the first blow came down on her left cheek, causing that irresistible mass of tanned flesh to quiver and wobble seductively.

Slap!

“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,” they heard the restrained girl intone like a mantra.

“Tell me about the head, angled up like that. What’s the thinking? I mean, it looks great, but she’d struggle to do what these two little beauties are doing at the moment.” He motioned down at the girl working silently on his cock and stroked her hair which caused her to quicken slightly.

Slap!

“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.”

“True, although she can still service me lying down, either on her front or back, if I stand at the foot of the bed. And she will. Frequently. However, it can be altered. There’s a button beneath her collar bone which allows me to adjust the angle. She knows this and it frustrates her that I never do it. She’s pleaded for it numerous times – after all, it must be awfully dull staring at the ceiling continually – but I’ve told her that I will not distract her from her heavenly goal. That’s the rationale you see: she is gazing towards her natural home, heaven.”

Slap!

“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.”

“Nice. So, you press this button and you can adjust her to look straight ahead?”

“Yup, or even down at those two babies on her chest. I’m thinking about developing some sort of spiritual exercise where she contemplates her tits for hours to heighten her… oh, I don’t know what, I have to think of it. Maybe when she’s trying for a baby or something. She hates them you see, is really conscious of them, so being forced to look at them all day might be good for her.”

“And you. I can’t keep my eyes of them!”

Slap!

“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.”

“Delightful puppies, aren’t they? No, the neck angling is a carrot I’m dangling in front of her. She fulfils favours for me, sexual most likely, and I let her have her neck positioned normal for an hour or two. It’ll keep her eager.”

“I bet it will.”

Slap!

“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.”

“My God, Roberto, this is a great show.”

“Last one coming up now.”

“I know and I’m about to cum!”

Slap!

“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.”

He grabbed the hair of the girl at his feet, wrenched her away from his cock, and exploded all over her face. She sat there looking up at him, milky white crème dripping from her cheeks.

“My God, that was good! That was bloody good!”

“Welcome to Hacienda Coelho!” laughed his host as he erupted within the other girl’s throat.

Hacienda Coelho, Bom Jesus da Lapa, Brazil, Sunday 8th December 2019

Sunday dinner at the hacienda. Adriana sits across from her “husband” at the large table in the dining room. To her left sits her former employer, Eduardo Silva, friend of Don Roberto and the man who introduced them to one another. He has come to stay for the weekend and believes them to be happily married. He expressed some concern when he saw what had been done to her, but believed what he had been told, that after resigning from her position looking after his children, she has “found God” in a big way and decided to dedicate herself to Christ in this very physical fashion. Silva is shocked, but not as shocked as she thought he would be. “You are not the first whom I have met who has chosen such a course in life. Indeed, a friend of mine in Bogota has a wife who has committed herself to the same path. I suppose it must be hard at times, but you have the double assurance of knowing that you have a husband who loves you dearly and you are pleasing your creator.”

Indeed, it was hard. At that particular moment, perhaps the hardest thing of all was the fact that she could neither see nor speak to her former employer. Instead she was staring at the ceiling in the centre of which two ceiling fans whirred lazily whilst a gag embroidered with ‘Seek thee first the kingdom of God’ was filling her mouth.

As always, she is a passive participant. She is not even eating the meal since her maid fed her earlier, spooning the few mouthfuls that her compressed stomach can cope with into her prior to her coming down for the communal meal. Consigned to be an observer only (well, an observer who is not even allowed to observe…) she lets her mind wander. Hearing Silva’s voice reminds her of when she was a member of his household. Most of the children that she looked after were rather spoilt, little rich brats who treated her disrespectfully and would grow up to be obnoxious adults. But his two daughters were different. They were deferential and polite, kind and intelligent. The eldest, Maria, had been sixteen and was slowly blossoming into a beautiful woman whilst Catalina, twelve, was a bright-eyed, cute kid. They were happy times and Adriana wishes she was still there. The warm tones of Silva’s voice cause the memories to flow through her veins and a warm feeling wells up in her heart. Oh, that she were to have children of her own! To feel a new life growing inside her belly, to gaze upon her offspring, hold them and sing lullabies to them. Yes, with children even this, all of this that had been done to her body, would become bearable.

But there is only one way for her to become a mother now. The alternative is to stay childless and dominated by Sister Carina for the rest of her life.

But to achieve her goal, she must first swallow her pride.

Without even realising what she is doing, she finds her foot tapping on the floor.

“What is it, dear?” asks Don Roberto, looking up from his meal. “Do you wish to ask me something?”

She taps her foot once on the floor, their prearranged code for ‘yes’.

“Here in public?”

Two taps.

“Private?”

One tap.

Eduardo Silva looks up at his friend and smiles. He dabs his mouth with his napkin and then announces, “If you’ll excuse me Roberto and Adriana, but I must use the facilities.”

He gets up and leaves, the servant following him out and closing the door behind them. Then Don Roberto gets up, walks over to Adriana and removes the gag from her mouth. He stands over her upturned face so that she can see him. She flexes her jaw and then says squeakily, “I am willing to marry you, Roberto.”

His face dissolves into tears of joy and he hugs her tightly.

Part 3

6 thoughts on “Once Upon A Time in Latin America: Part 2

  1. Absolutely awesome. Finally again a great story that focuses on the modifications but also continues. Cannot wait for the 3rd part (wonder if she “grows” into her role & accepts it finally) 😉

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  2. Had hope to see the eye mod in action .

    Some ideas that came to my mind in addition: some “upgrades” would be perfect (teeth/mouth, blurred vision, hearing), some permanent decorations for the collar and fingers, maybe a rail system on the ceiling as in some “lady of leisure stories” (to prevent any accidential pushes of the collar bone button). Regarding the behavioral modification, some increased motivation by regular spankings, more timed tasks, probably a dark storage cabin, so that she will be glad to be let out when needed.

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    • Whilst I appreciate the comments (and the sentiments), I must stress here that this story is an “early” Alternative Britain, i.e. it is set decades before Cafter’s work with the eye mods, etc. Therefore, that tech was no available at the time. One of the main purposes of the story was to “fill in the gaps” and explain how his world came into being. This is the start of the process; Audrey in his tale is the end.

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  3. Not sure if I read the same story 😉 But seriously, I meant “presses the switch and Adriana’s eyes look up to her eyebrows” and was just asking myself why this mod was done if it was later on not used. I was just curious what this could be used for.

    Other mods I mentioned didn’t seem too unrealisitc to me for 2019/20, although I’m not a medical expert.

    Anyhow, awesome story (same as “La Maison des Poupees”, but I knew this one from staylace already).

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    • My mistake, for some strange reason I was talking about the story before this one. Forget what I said.

      The eye mod in this is that she can focus properly but the eyeballs can only move vertically. Yeah, perhaps I should have used it a bit more.

      La Maison is an old, old tale but people seem to like it.

      Thanks for all the feedback.

      DP

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