Your erotic stories

It was dark. It was also very stuffy. I’ve been through so much in who knows how much time and have changed in many ways. I hardly have any meaningful memories of my life before everything began.

I last remember my age as 19. I’ve not been outside too often, or even seen a watch, or anything else to give me some sense of time. I was swept up, bundled up, dragged off into the abyss… – Or so it felt! I had no family and no friends when I moved to a new town in the hopes of starting a new life.

My thoughts begin to trail off when I think of the past as though it’s just of zero importance. I used to get sad when I thought of the past, before what’s happening now. Before what has happened in what has seemed like oceans of time that I’ve blindly crossed as a captive.

That’s what I know I am – A captive.

I was a slender young man, with long dirty blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and stood only 5’7″ in height and weighing just shy of 115 lbs. I can remember being called all kinds of names by other kids as I grew up. I have been told I have very feminine mannerisms. The way I move, gesture with my hands, even standing still. Most people, especially throughout my school years, assumed I was gay. I didn’t think so. I always fostered attraction for the opposite sex.

Eventually I met and began to see a woman about 5 years older than me who one day got me to ‘dress up’ for her in her clothes and makeup. As it turns out, I was really good at being a girl and I began to take a sense of pride in that. When her and I parted ways, I dressed up for myself when I had absolute privacy. I loved the feel of a girls clothes. The soft, stretchy, and almost silky feel of a long maxi-dress covering my smooth slender features was a feeling I craved every day. The feel of lacy underwear, satin thong panties, silky bra’s and slips, and sheer stockings bring incredible euphoric sensations that I cannot equate to anything else I’ve ever experienced.

There I go! My thoughts elude me and I’m suddenly reminded of where I am presently and the situation I’m in.

I am dressed in a black, tight, and stretchy PVC mini-dress. It’s backless and the straps come from the chest and meet around the very base and back of my neck. My hair has been dyed black, cut short around the sides a little and then much shorter in the back. My hair is long around front and hangs around my face. At it’s longest it hangs around 3 inches from the sides of my chin and jaw-line and gets shorter going back, as previously described.

My ears are now pierced numerous times from the lobes and along the edges to the near top. Nothing fancy. I at least get some choice in the style of earrings I must wear and lastly, my tongue is pierced with your basic metal ball-stud. This is somewhat new and only fully healed recently, I think.

My makeup a dark smokey style with shades of dark blue to black. My liner is black as is my mascara and the way it’s done is to make my eyes seem bigger and more round. More.. Innocent in a way. I have dark red lipstick that’s almost black. My nails naturally long, and manicured to have a slight point to each nail. The black glossy nail polish clashes strongly with my naturally white, porcelain skin tone.

I am completely hairless save for what I have on my head. I always shaved and was saving up for the laser hair removal treatment before things went crazy. Eventually, after my capture, I was ‘refined’. Part of that ‘refinement’ revolved around removal of any hair through the very treat I wanted to get. Eventually, well quite recently, I was put on hormones and already can see a difference in the way my body distributes fat, making me appear even more femme.

Under the dress I wear a black stretch-lace bralette. The straps follow the dress and go around the back of my neck and not over my shoulders. My… breasts are, for now, a set of some very life-like gel-filled synthetic skin breasts that have been adhered to the contours of my body as to not look entirely disproportionate. They used a chemical that has the bonding power of cement but you can’t even tell as they, move, sit, and even bounce like the real deal. The gel and even the ‘skin’ take on my body heat and now feel what I imagine real ones would feel like. My boobs are somewhere around a 34 b – cute, perky, and perfect for my frame. My nipples a soft pink in color but are visible through the stretchy lace of my bra.

Around my waist, under the somewhat clingy dress, I have on a very smooth, black, seamless satin thong and a garter belt of black stretchy satin and lace. The garters attach to thigh-high, sheer black , PVC-topped stockings. With those come the shoes. Black, glossy, 8-inch stiletto heels.

During my refinement and training I was forced to wear this lovely little chastity device that kept my ‘sissy clitty’ locked away. Eventually I was put on the honor system and the device was removed.. for now.

If I get off without permission or am caught trying to, I get 10 strokes on the soles of my feet with a wicked little cane. My ‘sissy clitty’ or clit, as I must now refer that part of my body to, is for this occasion, tucked and pushed in with the rest of my anatomy down there. I was never really considered ‘well endowed’ so it’s pretty easy to ‘tuck’ and is completely unnoticeable even when wearing stretchy skin-tight panties. I was told that it will get smaller as the hormones run their course. Oh, well…

I wear on my wrists, at ALL times, thick black leather bondage bracelets. They are a couple layers of strong, reinforced leather, with nothing soft underneath where they are pressed against my skin. They were specially tailored to my size as my wrists are very dainty. They are fastened by two sturdy stainless steel buckles and have matching stainless steel loops on top, bottom, and sides of each bracelet. My wrists are bound securely behind my back by a padlock thats threaded through a steel loop on each bracelet. Secured around my neck very SNUG is a thick and VERY strong leather collar. It has loops in the same fashion as the bracelets, only mere buckles do not lock and secure it around my neck. Its straps were replaced with a steel locking mechanism that’s compact, yet sturdy, and requires a key to unlock.

‘The collar ALWAYS stays on…’ echoes through my mind instinctively when I think about the collar. It’s on so tight! It took TIME to learn how to adjust to it.

I sit on my knees, which are SPREAD far apart and planted firmly in the thick and oddly SOFT carpeting that covers the walls and ceiling as well. It’s extremely dark in here. Not just because of the windowless interior but also due to the black leather strap with black-velvet insides, wrapped and secured around my head covering my eyes. To make my situation more uncomfortable, a thick red rubber ball is firmly situated in my mouth and secured firmly by leather straps attached to the sides of the ball and meeting at the back of my head. The ball feels like it’s going into my throat, and the straps dig uncomfortably into my skin. It strains my jaw painfully and the burning from the strain never eases.

To keep me still, and my posture optimal in the eyes of my captors, a length of black nylon rope is secured to a steel anchor in the floor behind me. The rope is pulled taught goes up to a steel loop in the wall behind me but high up, at just before where wall becomes ceiling. The rope is threaded through that loop high up behind me, and back down to and threaded through a steel loop on each of my bracelets. This lifts my arms upward as they are bound together at the wrists behind my back, forcing me to bend my upper body forward and causing terrible strain. A strain I can NEVER get used to.

Thick tendrils of clear saliva stretch and hang gracefully from the edges of the red rubber ball-gag and around my bottom lip and sides of my mouth. They extend and break at different lengths. My saliva has been oozing slowly from my mouth and to the floor like this for some time.

I am sitting like this, not in some hole in ground somewhere, but rather inside the back of a van. I was told nothing other than being instructed to sit, bend, and ‘shut the fuck up’. I’ve never been here before. Panic races through my mind, and a cold icy black pit rests within my stomach. It’s hot where I sit… But it feels like my blood has turned into icy rivers inside my body. I could MAYBE try to move or shift my knees.. -but I was told…

“… stay put! Don’t you fucking move a muscle.” the somewhat deep, angry and authoritative voice barked at me. ” I don’t need to remind you what will happen if you disobey.” each word traveled fast into my mind, instinctively making my back arch more firmly, as if trying to stay even more still.

Even after those last words I can feel the breath of the man bellowing against the soft skin of my cheeks. It reeked of alcohol and disgusted me as much as it terrified me. The man barking at me, from what I’ve heard him called, is ‘Brennerdt’ or simply, ‘Bren’. A thick man of average height with brown, unkempt , and messy hair. He had thick jowls almost like pig, and his eyes sat deep in his face giving him little dark circles around them. His eyes are a faded brown like his hair. The man is just.. Thick! His pot-belly and the hair on his arms and body make him look almost like a gorilla. A stinking, drinking, alcoholic, short-fused gorilla. He is VERY mean, short, and impatient with me. When he gets really hammered… He’s sadistic.

I feel the vehicle turn and go from a smooth to gravel road that’s uneven and bumpy even worse. A loud thump on the other side of the wall next to me, coming from the direction of the driver snaps me out of my thoughts. A rectangular view-port covered by a metal slat, slides open and a more calm, yet equally authoritative voice sounds from within “Wake up, bitch. We’re almost there…” The view port swiftly slams shut. The other man is a colorful character named Hockstetter, ‘the guys’ call him ‘Hock’ for short.

Hock is more collected and calculative than his colleague. He is also sober most of the time which makes him more predictable. This doesn’t mean he’s more lenient. He’s just as impatient, cruel, and mean as Brennerdt. He is just more stable. Hock is a tall man who is built more muscular than Bren but with a little fat thrown in. His features a little more sculpted, his head is shaved, presumably because he’s losing his hair, and his knuckles on his powerful hands, are dinged and worn with scars. The man used his fists to settle many disputes no doubt. The thing that really scared me most was his eyes. Hock’s eyes were like dark, angry slits that sat above pronounced cheekbones. Whenever he looks at me, it’s as if his are drilling holes through my head. He terrifies me!

The vehicle comes to a stop and my ‘minders’ exit the cab together. They come around both sides of the van, and I can mildly make out the sound of crickets, lots of crickets, and the soft shallow crunch of gravel beneath the feet of the two men. I take a deep breath, hoping the bumpy road or all the turns made during the journey didn’t inadvertently shift me a little. These two are surprisingly observant… Especially with me. If I had to guess, they aren’t happy with who and what I am and that they have been tasked by The Master to cart me around and babysit me.

Even though I think they hate me… They are very grabby with me, especially when I was given boobs. They love to make up reasons to punish me so they can justify their excessive use of force with me. Man-handling, groping, sometimes smacking, and other times just tying me up in a stressful position and leaving me in the dark for however long I’m never sure. This on top of the usual whipping, caning, and being tied up in very uncomfortable and painful positions and being degraded and humiliated, to boot. They spit on me, and sometimes purposely make a mess while I’m cleaning up or cooking just to punish me. It happens constantly. They’ve NEVER been particularly nice to me and call me nearly every degrading and foul thing they can think of.

They aren’t allowed to fuck me, however. The Master was very specific about that. Everyone feared The Master and-!

-I hear the locks being worked on the doors and suddenly the doors swing open. The cool nights air and symphony of chirping crickets would signal it’s night time. The two men stand at each open door looking in. I can FEEL their piercing gaze at me.

“What do you think, Bren?” Hock says before taking a drag off his cigarette then flicking it off into the distance.

“You know what I think? – I don’t give a fuck if she didn’t move. I’m gonna say she did. I’m gonna PUNISH her.” He says with a sadistic ring to his voice, then snorts obnoxiously and spits on the ground beside him.

“Well, let’s get this shit over with so we can chop it up with the boys and maybe grab a couple beers before we have to go back.” Bren said, running his fingers back through his greasy hair, before turning to face me inside the van.

I begin trembling a little then more and more as the two men climb into the van and start fiddling with my restraints. When they are done my wrists are free of the anchoring rope in the van but they are bound together behind my back still. A black leather leash, thick and long, is latched onto my collar. Bren coils the leash around one hand, close to where it latches to my collar. He holds the rest of the length in a large loop with his free hand as he pulls me forward. Hock uses one hand to clamp my already tightly bound wrists in a vice-like grip and grips my shoulder with the other.

“Bend! …More! Bend over more! -fuck!” Hock barks at me from behind. Each word he barks from behind me is accompanied by a jostling with either of his hands clamped onto me as they were.

I can barely keep my balance as my whole body is so stiff, my legs are pins and needles, and the heels just make it worse. If I fall, they’ll do something to me. If I take too long, they might just be mean. I take my chances and try to go easy. Eventually I feel Bren’s hands clamp my slender waist and lift me out and set me down on the gravel surface. Already I can tell, walking on this will be lovely! Just lovely!

They begin to move me after Hock shuts the doors of the van. Bren leads me by a taught and steady pull of the leash. Hock lights another cigarette and then catches up, clamping his arm around my upper arm.

“She fuckin drooled the whole way, man. There’s a puddle in that carpet.” Hock says while blowing a thick white puff of smoke.

“Yeah. We should ding her stupid ass for that too. Fuck I need another fuckin drink!” He says with a spiteful and irritated tone.

I hear the distinct sounds of some massive party nearby. It’s getting louder as we approach. The laughing, loud music, and obnoxiously loud conversations speckled with obscenities and other inaudible shouting sends cold chills down my spine. More so when I realize the braying of laughter, shouting, and drunken banter are all men. I hear not one female in the whole cacophony of drunken chaos coming from up ahead. I start to shiver and squirm while twisting and pulling at my restraints. This only encourages Bren to hustle me to the stairs leading to the entrance and start picking at me again.

“C’mon, shit-wit. Don’t be shy! They will all LOVE you.” He taunts, while his words dribble with sarcasm.

There’s some guys out front, who upon noticing me, start whistling and howling. They move to open the door for us and get a closer look at me. I can SMELL the booze on them as they open the doors, and hold them open. One even takes the opportunity to slap my ass making me jump slightly. Bren and Hock have a small chuckle at my reaction.

“Damn, Bren! What’s the occasion? She’s hot!” One of the men says while he eyes my body.

Hock gets in between us and in his authoritative tone he tells the man, “No way, buddy! Hands off the merch! Now, kick rocks! ” He says while hooking his thumb over his shoulder.

“Man, if I had to pull that duty I’d be fucking that bitch six ways to Sunday.” One of the two men says and is met with an “mmm-hmm!” by the other.

When we enter I’m overwhelmed by the pal of cigarette and cigar smoke hanging in a dense grey cloud over the large room with vaulted ceilings. I’m greeted with cat calls and degrading remarks as my minders push through what seemed like a veritable sea of people in the main room. The place, I would later see, is like one of those sort of all-in-one town hall/cafeteria/rec. area for loggers in the woods. It conjures images of caricatures of lumberjacks in flannel shirts, and thick beards stuffing themselves with pancakes before hoisting axes and hacking down tree’s the size of skyscrapers.

As we make our way through the crowd I’m treated to random gropes on my body and smacks on my ass. I’m trying to squirm and writhe away from the sea of hands probing me but its completely futile. For once, I’m actually glad my minders are here. If they let me go or just weren’t here at all I could be torn to shreds.

“Awww, Bren I think she LIKES you!” Hock says while giving me a shove forward making me stumble against the stinking gorilla holding my leash.

“Quit screwin around!” Bren shouts as he pushes me back then jerks forward on my leash.

We leave the main hall and come to a single door. Hock raps on the door with the bottom of his fist. Someone eventually responds and opens the door a crack. Hock leans in, exchanges words with the shadowy figure on the other side and the door swings open. I’m escorted in and the door slams shut and locks behind us with a series of metallic clinks and clanks.

Hock stops me, grabs me by my hair and through gritted teeth he says into my ear, “DON’T fuck this up. You do what they WANT. If I hear any complaints, you will suffer!” His words send chills down my spine. I nod nervously as he steps back a bit.

“GET on your knees, dumb-shit! Don’t move until instructed otherwise!” Hock barks in his usual charming tone.

I nod nervously and begin to move my legs apart and sink to my knees as directed. My back is straight, shoulders back, and chest perked out. I do this instinctively due to all the conditioning and training I’ve been put through over time. My drooling from the gag begins to drip on my dress and between my boobs a little. Ugh.

Hock and Bren begin to ‘talk business’ with one of the guys in the room.The man they are talking to is simply called Jackson. I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of being not just watched but assaulted by the eyes of others somewhere in the room and I bow my head slightly and wait patiently.

I start feeling anticipation… Not bad anticipation, but a part of me is actually becoming a little excited. The attention I’ve gotten thus far is like nothing I’ve felt before. It was scary at first but for some reason I felt enticed. Is this natural? Or the result of my often brutal, heavy-handed, and strict training regimens? I guess time will tell very soon.

As I sit on my knees, drooling from the gag, I hear Hock and Bren wrap up their little conversation and begin to take their leave. As Bren leaves the room, Hock walks around behind me, unfastens my blindfold, and removes it.

I’m blinded by the light in the room and instinctively squint and look away at first until my eyes adjust. It’s actually not that bright in here, after all. When I open my eyes and my view comes to focus, Hock is leaving the room and pulls the door shut behind him. No ‘Goodbye!’ or ‘Have fun!’… Thus is my life.

The man he was talking to walks past me, locks the door, and comes around to the front of me. He takes a hold of my leash where it latches to my collar and starts pulling upward, telling me to stand. As I stand I notice there are indeed other men in here. Six in total with regards to the man who has taken charge of me tonight.

I get a brief look at my ‘client’. Jackson is a tall man, built very similarly to Hock, but with more sculpted muscle, and deep lines that crack his face. I assumed he was in his mid 40’s. He has a very well kept buzz-cut and has a few bullet scars on his arms, shoulders, and elsewhere. His hair is brown and his eyes dark brown and very piercing and scary. He has a short, groomed beard/mustache and wears a wife-beater shirt and cammo pants with combat boots.

Jackson has a tattoo on his arm which I expected to be for marines or army but it’s something else. It’s a Skull with AK assault rifles crossed underneath it. A black mask cover the mouth of the skull and the text above and below it is in.. Cyrillic? I think?

I overheard Bren and Hock talking about the ‘good old days’ on some far-flung war-torn corner of the planet. Apparently they, and MOST if not ALL, of The Master’s men are mercenaries who have seen every manner of nastiness from Angola and the former Yugoslavia to the middle-east, Latin America, and south-east Asia. If they weren’t from that background they were either crooked ex-cops or crooked prison guards and any other manner of vileness.

The other men sit at a large, round, and very sturdy looking wooden table. They are playing cards, drinking, smoking, and talking shit to each other. These men all ranged in age from 30 to 50, I suppose. They all show signs of having gone through some savagely brutal event or events in their lives.

These are the kind of guys who fit right in in that part of life and enjoy bouts of random shocking violence and chaos. These men present themselves the same way Jackson does… The same way Hock and Bren do. One of them is kinda obese. He has a police badge clipped to the front right side of his belt. He has a short thick mustache and a very careless look in his eyes that says he’s heard it all and it’s the norm to him. The others vary only slightly from Hock and Jackson.

One man in particular has had his eyes on me since I was pulled to my feet by Jackson. Possibly longer. He has a shaved head, looks around his mid-thirties, and light blue eyes which have been locked on me the whole time. I start to stare back. He’s built, clean-cut, and doesn’t gush with pent up sadistic rage like every one else here.

My little clit swells a little and I start getting a little wet as visions of my naked body, glistened with sweat. He sits cross-legged on the floor with me on his lap facing him as my legs are wrapped around his waist with my arms around his neck, my head thrown back and my back arched while rocking my hips as his powerful hands hold my sides and help lift me up and down in very fluid and smooth motions as our bodies work together. It’s the first time in my life I’ve had some truly passionate fantasy of being made love to by a man!

His eyes don’t project disgust or hostility like the most of these guys do when they look upon me. His name, I would soon find out, is Garland, or Garr. I hear a small voice in the back of my mind: ‘God, I hope he gets a turn tonight! He can HAVE me!’ I blinked and shook it out of my mind.

Jackson brings me over to the table and the men put down their cards and their drinks and stand up, walking around to me, while Jackson steps back to admire the view from behind me.

“Well, well, JACKOFFSON! This is quite the piece of ass here!” One man exclaimed whilst walking around me, his eyes probing every inch of my body. “How we gonna do this??? We got a battin’ order or we gonna tear her up all at once?” He cackles in a very manic and sinister way.

This man radiates the most violently psychotic vibe out of everyone here. He’s built but thin and the lines run deep in his face. His eyes are big, YELLOW, and bug-like and his hair has been clipped to a very short, even , and velvety stubble. His name is Leonard. And he’s a real creepy, wiggler, of a human being.

The big fat guy with the badge on his belt gets up, and begins making his way over after everyone else had already done so. He has a very apathetic and lazy look in his eyes and the way he walks suggests he ‘busts his ass a hoppin for NO one’ in this room, or really anywhere else. He’s a cop. A captain at that and I would soon see that this lackadaisical and careless exterior sits above something most vile and perverse. He’s done things. LOTS of things.

I get a cold chill as he approaches, walks around and with blinding speed his thick meaty hand slaps my ass with a sting I’ve not felt with a bare hand before. He does it again and then clamps and squeezes. I squeal through my gag and writhe against my restraints, lifting my leg instinctively in some futile attempt at absorbing or blocking the next hit. His name is Clark. And Officer Clark has a long history stretching back almost 30 years on the force.

“This reminds me of a time back when I was a young man on my first beat by myself. I followed this little she-boy one night to where ‘she’ lived. I never had me a she-boy before. I cased her place, stalked her, and finally when she was walking home from work one night I stopped her. Fed her some bullshit story about a series of thefts perpetrated by someone of her description. I ‘detained her for questioning’, and drove her down to the station. She was a real trooper in the end! Everyone got to stick her at least once! GOOD TIMES!” He finishes his story with a bray of maniacal laughter that could make anyone’s blood run cold. The others have a chuckle as well. I was beginning to shiver and tremble.

I must have been radiating with fear ebbing into terror because, as if sensing my fear, Clark starts feeling me up more rough -more aggressively as he gets more turned on. He then grabs my face by my jaw and starts digging his tongue in my ear making my wince and groan softly in disgust. He grins wickedly at my reaction and resumes his painfully rough and aggressive groping and feeling up of my body, digging his thick fingers into my ass cheeks through my mini dress. He slides a hand up the front of my mini dress and starts rubbing and feeling at my sissy clit.

The others have begun to move in and feel along my sides, and stomach and squeezing hard at my breasts and feeling along my thighs through my stockings, I flinch and whimper through my gag at the occasional pull, and release of a garter straps snapping against the soft flesh of my thighs.

While the others fondle me and whisper their filthy descriptions of what they’re gonna do to me in my ears as they grab and squeeze more roughly at my body, the next in the group moves directly in front of me.

I just stand there and let them do what they want. It’s how I was ‘trained’ … Conditioned. My eyes however are desperate and pleading. This man in front of my stares directly into my eyes. I stare back at first, a distant stare as if watching this helplessly unfold from afar. A crooked grin etches its way across his face. He looks scary and the more he stares, the more panicked I get. I want to look away but can’t. This man is disturbed!

He’s got that twinkle in his eye that vibe of a reckless and insatiable troublemaker. His features are young and he has an almost child-like innocence but upon closer inspection, he’s about as twisted as they get. He’s thinner than the others but still has noticeable muscle. His teeth in front are slightly crooked. His face is a little scruffy, and his hair is like a brown-haired version of Dennis the Menace. I could easily picture him in striped shirt, overalls, converse shoes with a sling-shot tucked in his back pocket. His name is Roland.

Roland grabs my face and starts trying to french me. My eyes open wide and search the room for… help? intervention? guidance? I don’t know. I was just literally in shock. His tongue probes and digs and tries forcing it’s way into my and flicks wildly at my lips. He even begins to suck and bite on my bottom lip. He moves a hand down and hikes it up my skirt and starts rubbing my sissy clitty.

On the one hand, I’m really freaked out by this and taken by surprise to say the least. On the other, His motions are surprisingly deft and experienced. He starts making me wet and I moan through my gag and against his lips. He actually slurps up my drool before backing off and unbuckling his pants. He has a very bright but silly looking grin on his face as he pushes his pants down just enough to free his cock. He holds his palm under my chin to catch some of my drool then proceeds to masturbate using my drool as lube. I stare in complete shock. I also notice he doesn’t talk. At all.

The last to introduce himself is a man named Stu. Just Stu. He’s actually pretty burly. A naturally big man. Not fat big. Just BIG big. He has a heavy almost protruding brow like a neanderthal. His hands are absolutely gigantic complete with thick stubby fingers. His eyes are small and dark and seemingly clueless if he’s not angry or turned on. I’m surprised this oaf even knows how to play cards. Maybe they let him just hold the cards so he can pretend hes playing. My God, was I wrong about this guy…

His neck is thick like the support pillar in a cement parking garage. His arms are thicker than canned hams and his waist is almost cartoonishly narrow. His legs aren’t terribly huge either. He almost reminds me of the dad in that Incredible’s animated movie. He just LOOKS dumber than a sack of door-knobs. He’s also very well endowed. VERY well endowed.

Stu is totally fixated on my fake sissy tits. He has been staring at them and finally just decides to GO for it. He grabs and squeezes them both very hungrily. He decides to reach around , pushing aside the hands and grinding bodies of others to grab and painfully squeeze my ass. The resulting high pitched and muffled squeal makes him release then squeeze HARDER, making me squeal louder.

“Damn, STU! You’re gonna pop those! Save from for us, man!” Leonard says, while the others cautiously murmur in agreement.

“MMmmm. Can’t help it. Feels soooo good. But, OKAY!” Stu says mockingly as if he were as dumb as a sack of doorknobs. I am TOTALLY weirded out by this guy!

He releases his iron grip and looks down at me as he steps back a bit. He is massive. He towers above me and is only slightly taller than the rest. He lightly raps my cheek with his open palm playfully and says:

“I can wait. If I go first… I’ll stretch her out and there won’t be none left for everyone else. The best will be last, bitch.” He finishes saying and without warning spits in my face. I flinch and blush feeling grossed out and humiliated.

The others just laugh, as Stu returns to his seat, puts his hands behind his head, his feet up on the table and tilts his seat back patiently watching and waiting. Perhaps he sensed my dismissal of his intelligence. He looked like a total lout to me!

Roland, slinks around to the front of me and gathers drool from the near steady flow from my mouth. He grabs and jerks my collar downward signalling that I should get on my knees. The others help me oblige and either step back or help guide me down.

“uh oh! this is it! Damn, Rolly!” Clark says cheerfully with a hefty grin.

Roland pulled his cock from his pants and an begins stroking himself off using the hand he gathered my drool with. He holds my head in place with one hand while furiously beating himself off with the other. I watch in horror. The speed and intensity of his stroking makes loud wet squishy noises accompanied by the ‘fap’ of his wrist/heel of his hand slapping against his own body.

His breathing becomes more heavier and deeper and he leans his head back and starts breathing louder and suddenly, while letting out a series of sharp , quivering gasps, and frantic draws of air into his lungs his cock explodes with a powerful gout of some of the thickest and stickiest cum I’ve ever seen. I mean it was THICK! And sticky like tree-sap! It had a consistency that was almost like a mix between runny tapioca pudding and toothpaste.

Roland’s orgasmic blast sent a thick twisting rope of hot, sticky jizz straight into my face. The first rope of his seed stretches from the ball gag in my mouth and stretched to my left cheek bone. It practically attached itself to my skin with the bonding power of cement! It was followed in rapid succession 3 or four more globs of the salty viscous fluid spurted at my face in long off-white ropes.

Most of it was aimed for my mouth, however, one rope of cum caught my brow and stretch into my hair. I found myself constantly replaying the image of the 8 inch dong right as it erupted in my face.

Eventually he uses my hair to ‘towel’ off the residual dribble from his softening cock, and sits down at the table facing me. I can feel his cum now starting to roll down my skin from my jawline and chin. Dripping onto my tits and my thighs, soaking into my bra and stockings. Some manages to travel between my boobs and run down my body before being partially absorbed by the inside of my dress.

I blush and moan feeling his gunk dripping off me. I feel humiliated but I feel a slight tingling of enjoyment at the same time. I’m bombarded by a very powerful thought. A voice, soft and femme shouts aloud: ‘GAWD, just FUCK me or at LEAST let me SUCK just one co-!’

My thoughts are cut off by being lifted rather hastily to my feet, marched over to the card table, and pushed forward into it.

It was only one or two steps at the most but the table caught me right about the hips and my upper body went down and slammed onto the top of the table, knocking me breathless for an instant. I try to stand back up I’m forced back down and pinned.

Held by the back of my neck and pressed FIRM into the table. The side of my face pressed hard into the surface of the table as well. I shiver with fearful anticipation as my feet are roughly and most hurriedly kicked apart. I moan and whimper as my dress is hiked and pushed up to my waist, exposing my skimpy satin seamless thong, garter belt, and the straps which slightly dig into the soft flesh of my ass and leading to my stocking tops.

Those guys who are still ‘in’ and were standing around me earlier are now huddling around me again and take their places. Two hold my feet apart, one gets behind me, the other to the side helping keep pressure on me. If only they knew… I’m losing control. I’m beginning to WANT this.

I’m beginning to feel the pangs and cravings of cocks and cum. ALL of my training is now flashing through my mind like an old video tape on fast forward. All the things they drilled into my brain while inflicting pain, forcing dildo’s and plugs in my sissy kunt and the like. It’s starting to come full swing. I struggle to keep these thoughts at bay! I NEVER would consider myself gay or even bi-sexual! This is CRAZY! What have they done to me???

Jackson positions himself behind me. One of his powerful hands has a solid grip on my hip while the other feels around my ass. He hooks a finger under a single strap of my garter, pulls back and lets go of the strap which snaps back into my skin with a faint *snap!*.

He starts rubbing my inner thighs and then moves to caressing my sissy clit. I blush and moan softly through my gag, and my hips gyrate slightly. He removes his hand…

“It’s wet down there little darl-! Well I’ll be dipped in shit! She’s WET! Like, REALLY wet!” He exclaims in surprise and utter amazement.

The two holding my legs both try at once to feel around and notice it as well. The guys start getting really excited at this point and start talking about who will do what, when , and so on.

“God DAMN! She IS wet!” Exclaimed Leonard. Who starts rubbing his thumb and fingers together.

“I’ll be god damned…” Clark said, in mild amazement – which is a big deal for someone as slow and casual about everything as he is.

Jackson waists no time unfastening his belt and shoving down his pants and boxers, freeing his massively thick, pre-cum dribbling cock. He hooks one finger under my thong and pulls it aside just enough to uncover my tight pink entrance. He snorts and spits a thick foamy mucousy wad of saliva and mucus into his hand which rapidly strokes and lathers his cock. He rubs the rest, rather hurriedly, against my kunt. I feel his hand gripping more solidly on my hip and I whimper in anticipation and shudder in fear as he uses his free hand to start guiding his cock against my kunt. I try to relax and push back the waves of panic and begin to squeal and groan through my gag.

Though I am gagged, my muffled squeals and groans echo through out the room. The others watch in almost total silence as Jackson’s invading member spears into me from behind, slowly, inch by inch stretching my opening to its limits.

After what seemed like an eternity, he was all the way in. To me, it felt like yards of cock have filled my kunt, but it was more like 7 or eight inches. The ‘lube’ he used didn’t stem some of the pain, but he was surprisingly patient and gentle. I feel the throbbing and pulsating of his dick inside me and my stretched orifice.

I Breathe deeply and try not to move save for the instinctive urge to squirm and wiggle around to at least TRY and be comfortable, even though I’m firmly held in place. Jackson moans and slowly, with both his hands on my hips, begins to draw back from inside me then back in. The long, slow movements cause me to moan and attempt to writhe around even more.

Roland comes by and a bottle of warming lube is set on the table near my face. I can smell it – Cinnamon.

“I think he’s trying to TELL you something, mister!” Clark says very matter-of-factually to Jackson.

Jackson takes the bottle, pulls back out so just the head is breaching my kunt and drizzles some onto his cock and uses a hand to stroke and rub it in before resuming is long deep and slow thrusts into and out of me. His pace picks up and before I know it his hips begin to slap against my ass. His grip firms on my hips as his power and speed increase. The sensation from the lube is intense for me! I feel it getting hotter, sometimes involuntarily making me squeeze Jacksons dick with my sissy kunt. He grunts and moans through gritted teeth and fucks me harder and faster. The power of his thrusts shaking me, and the table, making the others holding me down have to grip and squeeze my limbs harder. I feel a hot burning and tingling sensation between my legs and deep inside me as this big powerful man viciously fucks me from behind. My moans increase in pitch and echo across the room, breaking the monotonous thumping and slapping of his hips against my ass.

Jackson begins to growl and groan more deeply, He grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back. I squeeze my eyes shut and groan through my gag as a long tendril of drool stretches from the small puddle on the table to my mouth. It stretches and falls back to the shaking table. Finally, with the table and my body violently shaking, Jacksons thrusts become more irregular and frantic as he tries jamming his cock as deep into me as possible. He pulls harder at my hair and grabs my shoulder with his other hand, my body being stretched and strained from him and the others holding me, as I nearly scream into my gag. He howls loudly into the air as I feel the tremendous volcanic explosion and subsequent flood of his seed exploding deep within my helpless and trembling body. My eyes open wide and felt as big as saucers as his cock continues bursting and spurting his thick and sticky cum which completely fills my insides and immediately begins seeping out of my ass and around his cock. I feel like I’m going to pass out. My upper body heaves in and out in long deep exhausted breaths as I close my eyes and give in to the light-headedness.

His cum runs down my inner thighs and into my stockings while the rest soaks into my thong or drips down to the floor in long, hanging strands as he pulls his cock out of my kunt forcing me to let out a shuddering, muffled, and defeated moan through my gag. He let’s go of my hair and shoulder and I’m pulled back down on the table by the others. He spreads my ass cheeks, nestling his cock between them and wipes the mix of cum and lube down my ass crack. When finally satisfied he smacks my ass, hooks a finger under my thong and pushes it back into place as if to keep some of his goo inside me. I start sobbing in shock and defeat as he walks away pulling his pants up.

“She’s ALL yours, boys! Have at it!” He sits down and puts his feet up on a nearby empty chair, lighting a cigarette.

I’m nearly frozen with panic but begin to try and move around. At first shakily and slowly, then more and more frantically as it began to sink in. A loud voice snapped me out of the haze: ‘WAKE UP! Get OUT of there! You’re gonna be-!’ I feel my gag released.

My hair is pulled lifting my head up and the gag is pulled from my mouth and then pushed down and hangs around my neck like a necklace. I’m surrounded, being pulled every which way, and can see myself drowning in a storm of arguing, brute, angry men fighting over ‘who goes next’.

I’m suddenly feeling a torrent of panic. My mind racing: ‘I have to get away! I have to escape! I am not some fucking whore for them to abuse! This isn’t right!’ My mind echoed with these thoughts and more. I struggle and pull against my bonds and captors. I twist and writhe and try bucking and pulling myself off the table. I feel my head grabbed by my hair and yanked back sharply. I moan in pain through gritted teeth and before I could open my eyes feel a sharp, cold, and powerful *SMACK!* across my face followed by what felt like the back of the offending hand smacking the other side of my face.

My vision is blurry and I feel someones hand grabbing my face and their fingers digging into my jaw through my cheeks, forcing my mouth open slightly. I can barely make out someone talking to me and half-realize him spitting into my slightly opened mouth. When he let’s go my head drops and my body goes limp.

I am blind-folded again. Hustled and shoved and dragged from where I was standing. I stumble along in a daze. I attempt to struggle and manage to stomp on someones foot with my heel. He let go of my arm and let out a howl which was followed by the others laughing at him. I’m held still and though I can’t see, I can tell the now enraged man was coming back and it had to be Leonard who’s foot I stomped.

I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut from behind the blindfold and brace myself. With one hand, Leonard grabs me by my collar and his other hand, balled into a fist, comes flying into my stomach. My knees buckle, my breath completely knocked out of me and the men holding me begin shoving me to the floor on my knees as I gasp and struggle to catch my breath.

I feel myself pulled forward by my hair and am told quite simply: “Open your mouth. Accept what is given. If I feel teeth we WILL knock them all out and make you accept, Understood?” Though, I can’t see who it is, I believe it’s Officer Clark. Panting heavily, I nod shakily in response. This is met with a harsh slap across my face. Stunned, I nod shakily again and through my weakened breath, I cough and choke and reply: “Y-yes, sir…!”

With that, I barely have time to open my mouth all the way as a thick, smelly, and veiny cock is shoved in my mouth. SHOVED and shoved DEEP. I am barely able to catch my breath and feel the massive purple head of this monster cock trying to lodge itself in my throat. I gag and choke and involuntary struggle! My bonded wrists are pressed into my lower back as my knees are shoved apart. I have not the strength to resist and only manage a few choked and muffled whimpers in protest.

My mini dress is hiked up to my midsection, my thong pulled aside, and lube is drizzled between my ass cheeks and roughly rubbed against my abused, cum dribbling kunt.

My head is suddenly lifted, completely removing the offending cock from my mouth which hangs open as I gasp for air. A thick strand of foamy drool connects from my mouth to Clark’s thick, smelly cock. I nearly scream in shock as Leonard began to jam and force his cock up my ass. I could barely struggle or even writhe in resistance.

Leonard was much less gentle and calculative than Jackson and proceeded to violently shove and bury his cock into my sissy kunt like he hasn’t fucked anyone in years! My head is pulled down by the hair and my mouth filled with cock again.

I don’t know how to feel about it. The psychological aspect, that is. I am blindfolded but see myself from above, me on my knees being fucked from behind. My face being fucked by a large, stone-faced man sitting on a couch in front of me. The others either watching and jacking off or feeling up my tits or even shouting at me. Telling me I’m a worthless sack of sissy faggot shit. Telling me I deserve everything and more. Telling me what they’re going to do to me. So much shouting and berating that I simply can’t register everything they’re saying and doing.

The men no longer have faces to me. They’re just… They’re goons. They’re monsters in mans flesh.

I begin to snap back into whats happening when Leonard, violently fucking me from behind, starts to become more frantic and dramatic with his thrusts. He moans and cackles maniacally into the air as he buries himself deep in my defenseless, quivering, and tender body. His cock blasting and coating my insides with his thick sticky jizz that seems hotter and stickier than the previous. He pulls out and squirts the last couple spurts on my back and into the bunched up material of my mini dress. No sooner does he leave that another replaces him, grabs my ass, guides himself to my cum-dribbling kunt and RAMS it home – the effect suddenly causes my head to snap back as I scream into the air! A foamy drool/pre-cum/mucousy slime stretches from my mouth to Clark’s cock and before I could even breathe in my head is SHOVED back down and Clark’s cock jammed into my throat!

I can tell by the constant and near frantic groping of my body from my ass up to my tits, It’s Stu who’s taking HIS turn to violate me. In fact, he’s taking a real shine to my tits while fucking me!

I whimper and moan against Clark’s dick as it begins to swell and almost vibrate against my tongue. I suck and pull the insides of my cheeks against the sides of his cock as I work my head back and forth. Suddenly, Clark grabs both sides of my skull in a vice-like grip and moans very loud and deeply as he PULLS my head down and drives his cock into my throat and explodes with a long series of powerful bursts of hot, gloppy, jizz. Given the position of Clark’s member, it spurts each powerful burst DIRECTLY down my throat and after a short while, his grip weakens, and slowly releases and eases his cock from my throat and just keeps it in my mouth. I swallow all his gravy without any resistance. I was surprised I didn’t choke or gag while he injected his seed into my belly from my throat. I moan softly on his slowly deflating cock. I want to resist but know that if I do things will get WORSE. I submit to their wicked pleasures.

My body shakes and spasms as I’m again being violently fucked from behind and then it suddenly stops… My head is YANKED sharply back by my hair and the slobbery sticky mess of spit and a little cum stretches in long bubbly slimy tendrils from Clark’s cock to my mouth.

Stu begins to grab and pull my tits HARDER as he grunts and groans deep and animal-like into the air. His thick muscular body coated in a thin sheet of sweat. Stu grabs both my shoulders and leans back slightly as he pulls me by my shoulders back against him. His cock IMPALES me forcing me to scream as it begins it’s frantic and violent eruption of his seed DEEP inside me. His massive cock gushes with long sticky ropes of his batter that fill and coat my insides just as the previous loads did. As he pulls his cum-dribbling tool from my kunt I feel the squishy mess of my cum soaked into the front of my panties. I BLUSH deeply and HOPE no one notices!

“Good girl.” Is all I hear from Clark and he gets up and moves out of the way for the next man to sit in his place. His pants quickly shoved down and gently pulls my face to his lap where I’m told to lick then suck.

I know who this is – It’s Garr! My heart goes a flutter and I start licking and kissing and smearing my moistened lips all over the hardening shaft and underside of this thickening, pulsating rod. I moan softly and use my tongue starting from the underside at the base of his cock and drag it upward, using as much of my tongue to cover the soft sensitive underside of his rock-hard and pulsating cock. I feel Garr’s hands and fingers going through my hair on both sides of my head and lightly cradling my head as he moans softly from my motions. I open my mouth, extend my tongue slightly, and move down to take him into my mouth. My tongue greets the head of his cock with small swirling and gentle circular motions as my lips wrap around his member and I just let his cock sit in my mouth, bathing it in my saliva and the deft, swift, and gentle motions of my tongue. The smooth little metal stud on my tongue really accentuates this! I moan deeply and feel myself enjoying this. Enjoying him.

I work my head back and forth, up and down on Garr’s cock. I drool heavily and when I swallow it I move the tip of his cock slightly into my throat and try to let him feel it. He moans and squirms in approval. I bob and work my head on his pre-cum dribbling cock until finally I feel his hands grip my head and pull me back. He stops as the head of his cock rests slightly on my bottom lip and I open my mouth nice and wide to welcome his seed. He moans deep and loudly while his cock begins gushing his thick sticky jizz into my mouth. Burst after burst, long, sticky, gooey strands fly into my mouth. My tongue bathes under the deluge of the hot, thick, somewhat salty fluid. I roll my tongue around it and moan softly. I begin to swallow it but try to savor every last drop. I lick my lips and smear them softly around the underside and head of his cock making sure to get all of it.

The rest of the room was almost silent. The others watching weren’t making a sound. When Garr got up and walked away and another took his place. The moment, now gone, replaced with the vicious cycle of fucking and sucking. Stu was replaced by Roland then Roland by Clark- I lost count how many times someone came to fuck me or make me suck them off.

I could tell the differences between some of the men but mostly it was all just hard, fast, and sometimes angry fucking of my kunt. Those who took turns fucking my mouth were equally as cruel and took pleasure seeing me gag and choke. I was dragged from the floor, bent over the back of the couch, fucked by one, maybe two, then thrown to the floor or dragged to the table. During some of these fast and violent episodes, I had reached orgasm, and soaked my own thong panties. I came at least twice more and was left humiliated, confused, and exhausted. I couldn’t help myself! I hated myself for it but those feelings were quickly thrown behind me. I had to concentrate on everything else forced into me with what little strength I had left. I almost believe they let in some of the guys who were partying in the next room. It was all a blur after 4th or 5th had taken me.

Jackson got his last turn on me when I was bent over the table. By this time, my blindfold was removed, my wrists unbound, and my will to resist all but gone. The others were pretty much tuckered out. I couldn’t tell what was happening anymore. When he let go of my hips and pulled out. He slid my thong back in place, slapped my ass and he then grabbed my hair and pulled my limp body off the table and let me fall to the floor. I was a mess! My stockings had soaked up a lot of cum my black satin thong panties were drenched. Wherever my skin was exposed – It was streaked with cum. My ass was criss-crossed with sticky streaks of cum as well as my face and some even in my hair.

I curl up on the floor, my body heaving in and out from my exhausted and labored breathing. I can FEEL the gunk leaking from my kunt and soaking through my thong. My ass was also decorated with red hand prints and the occasional red marks from a belt or other object used to whip my ass. I squirm and wiggle around slowly as I try to pull my bunched up, cum streaked mini dress back over my ass. I was aware I looked like a trash and it added to the humiliation I just went through. I started to sob and weep as I curled up into a ball while the others returned to their drinking, smoking, and cards. Everything slowly went black.

I woke up and was laying on the floor. I was sore, tired, and still in a slight daze. Bren was approaching me and when he stood in front of me his size and shadow made me feel like I was an inch tall. I was overwhelmed by his stink! He smelt like a brewery with strong over tones of BO. I looked up at him pleadingly. He stared down at me as if through me. He began to speak

“Nap times over, stupid! Get the FUCK UP and wash off!” His bark shook me and I felt the cold pit in my stomach came with the icey cold chills of fear that slowly rained down my spine. His thick, rough , greasy hands balling into fists. His eyes and nose were red. He was clearly drunk and in no mood for any bullshit.

I got up and shakily stood in front of Bren with my head bowed down and my hands at my sides. I half expected him to start beating me and shouting at me. Instead, he lifted my chin with his finger and began inspecting me. I didn’t dare look into his eyes. He shook his head and took a step back.

“God, you’re a fucking MESS!” His words shook me and made me begin to tremble before him. He pointed to a room to his left. “For Christ sakes! Get cleaned up so we can fucking GO!” I winced as I felt his smelly hot breath hit the skin of my face. He shoved a small purse into my hands as I nodded and quickly scampered into the room as ordered.

It was a large sort of bathroom almost like a locker room that had separate areas for toilets and a large room with multiple showers. The dull metal heads were wide like sunflowers and protruded from the ceilings. There were several drains on the floor and the white tile was floor to ceiling.

There were sinks withe mirrors above them between the shower room and the toilet room. I set down my purse on the edge of one of the sinks and opened it. Inside was a washcloth, a travel bottle of baby oil for make-up removal, travel soap, and tons of makeup.

I began to wet the washcloth with hot water and started cleaning the streaked makeup, cum, and other filth from me face and then on my arms, and anywhere else I could reach. The inner thighs of my stockings are cold and damp from all the cum that either leaked from my kunt or was sprayed on my ass. I was tempted to shower but wasn’t instructed to.

I could STILL feel cum slowly but surely soaking through my thong and beginning to go down my inner thighs. The feeling reminded me of the humiliating experience I had gone through. It was blur. It was a long agonizing humiliating blur. I re-apply my make-up and fix my hair… Well, as best as I could given the circumstances! I check and adjust my garters, and then my dress, my ‘boobs’ and clean up the sink and makeup laying around. I put my purse strap over my shoulder and walk out with a strange tinge of confidence. My heels clip-clop loudly and echo off the tiled floor. I ignore the pain in my backside, the squishyness in my thong panties, and make my way to the door.

As I approach, the door opens , and there stands Bren his usually boozy angry scowl replaced with a smile. Standing behind him is Hock, who appears to be counting a rather large sum of money.

Bren steps in the room, points to the wall behind me, and barks at me “HOLD it right there. STOP. Turn around. Assume the position at that wall. NOW!” His words struck the usual terror in me down to the pit of my stomach. I stopped, turned around, and walked to the tiled wall of the ‘sink room’ I had just washed in. I put my hands on the wall, far apart, and above my head. I bent forward to do so while spreading my legs apart. I arch my back and stick my ass out.

Bren walks up and places his hands on my hips and begins sliding them firmly and slowly up my sides. His hands move down to my hips then back up and around the front of my body. I writhe a little against his touch. I can feel the warmth of his body as he moves closer. His belly presses into my back and I can feel his hardening dick through his clothes and my mini dress. He gropes and squeezes my boobs and feels around my stomach and between my legs. He kneels down behind me groping at my thigh and feeling down to my foot then works his way back up and starts down the other leg. He stands and grabs my ass and hikes up my tight stretchy black mini dress he traces his fingers along my garter straps and snaps them against my ass one at a time. He gropes at my crotch and rubs at my sissy clit.

“My, my, my, my… You DID enjoy yourself, did you? This wasn’t supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be work. That’s gonna cost you.” His words soft yet dark and give me the chills. He remains close while feeling me up some more. The stink of his warm fetid breath makes me want to gag!

When satisfied, Bren takes my wrists, pinning them behind my back, and cuffs them together TIGHTLY. I wince and just deal with it. Bren pulls my ball gag up from around my neck and I take the red rubber ball into my mouth. He fastens it tightly about the back of my head. He starts to pull me by the arm and I clumsily stumble along with him. My heels clicking on the cold white tile floor.

I only assume he’s leading me out but instead I’m led into the dark and creepy shower room. The shower at the end has a small waist-high wall partitioning it from the shower next to it. I’m suddenly pushed forward and the wall catches me, bending me over and forcing a muffled whimper of surprise and protest at what I think is about to happen.

Before I can even try to stand back up, Bren is behind me, pushing his hips against my ass, and the rest of his weight to hold me down. He squeezes my bound wrists and pushes them into my lower back while his free hand hurriedly shove and pushes the hem of mini dress up and then kicks my feet apart. He yanks aside my thong almost ripping it off of me in the process. He reaches down, shoving his middle finger into my kunt before removing it. It’s removal is followed by a mixture of cum and lube left from earlier. He pushes down his pants quickly and clumsily freeing his pulsating member.

“This is how it works. I’m not supposed to do this, but because you got fucked like it’s nobodies business, I CAN fuck you and as long as you keep your stupid bitch mouth SHUT – No one will be the wiser. GOT IT?” He says while reaching up, gripping my hair and yanking my head back SHARPLY.

“Mwwss Swww!” I practically screaming through my gag and making the best attempt to nod my head.

He keeps my head pulled back as if he’s going to pull off my entire scalp. His other hand goes from my wrists to his cock and before I had any time to register this he starts aggressively shoving and driving his cock into my ass forcing whimpering, muffled screams through my gag. I immediately start to cry as he just rams into me and begins to violently rape my sissy kunt. My moans and whimpers go ignored as he uses all his weight and strength to SLAM his hips against my ass, driving his cock insanely hard , deep, and fast into and out of me. I cant struggle. I can’t move. I can’t do ANYTHING but take it. The more I moan and cry out through my gag the HARDER and FASTER he goes. His thick wet tongue twists into and out of my ear.

He begins to groan and growl deeply. I can feel it as well as hear it. He hates me and he’s FUCKING me like he hates me. He enjoys seeing me broken and violated and I can do NOTHING to escape.

I begin to lose it when he’s fucking me so hard I feel like he’s either going to shatter my pelvis or drive his cock so deep it pops the ball out of my mouth. His thrusting is relentless and incredibly fast. He starts to groan and moan deep, guttural, vile moans against my neck and ear as his pounding of my kunt becomes even faster and more erratic. He shudders and his hips begin to spasm and jerk violently forward and suddenly he cums deep in my guts. Filling my insides and coating every delicate surface with his thick and scalding hot load. Burst after burst of this thick ropey seed floods my insides and very messily drips and flows from my ass as he pulls out. The long sticky wads of his white-hot jizz stretch and hang from my violated orifice and drip to the floor. Some rolling down my inner thighs and though it soaks into my stockings, it continues to roll down to my feet!

Bren releases my hair and nearly collapses on me crushing my small frame underneath his while im bent over the little white tile covered partition. I can barely breath when suddenly he stands, pulls my head back by the hair thus pulling me with him, his free hand comes around clasps over my gagged mouth and starts rubbing and smearing a palm-full of his thick, smelly, glue-like batter into my face and mouth. I can’t do anything apart from squirm, whimper and try to turn my head away but it’s no use. He dries his hand off in my hair, reaches down to fix my thong and pull down my dress. He pull me to the side and shoves the front of my body into the wall where the soap dish for that stall is located. He quickly pulls his pants up, adjusts, and grabs me by the arm and without saying a word hustles me out of the shower room.

We get through the rest of the weird lodge-like place. It seems quieter and less lively, as if the party was just about over. I can still hear crickets outside. The cold night air was refreshing after being forced to breathe the low hanging cloud of cigarette , cigar smoke, and the invisible cloud of cheap liquor breath.

I Hear the doors of the van open. Hock must’ve been waiting out there for us.

“What the fuck were you doing in there, man??” Hock barks toward Bren

“Cleaning her stupid ass up so we can fucking leave. What do you think?!” Bren hisses in response as I’m practically thrown in the back of the van.

“Yeah? She doesn’t LOOK clean! She looks like SHIT to me!”

Bren hops in and doesn’t bother replying. Nor does he bother with sitting me on my knees before tying me up. I lay on my side, hands cuffed behind my back and those are being tied to one of the anchors in the floor nearest the wall.

“Oh like THAT, Bren? Fuck! I’m not cleaning her up when we get back! I’m fuckin done with tonight! I just wanna go home and get shitfaced!” Hock storms around to the front of the van and climbs in and starts the engine.

Bren kneels down over me “This is how it goes, bitch… I get my slice after your little play dates…” He starts caressing my hair. I nod in response “…We both know what The Master said. I don’t need any trouble because you can’t keep your dumb fucking mouth shut. So be a good girl, take it like a good little whore, or ELSE.”

Bren stands, he draws one foot back and swings it forward into my stomach. It wasn’t as bad as the one I received earlier but it HURT and made me cough and gasp against my gag like crazy. I try to curl up into a tighter small ball at his feet. My coughing and gagging give way to whimpering and sobbing.

“I’m glad we have an understanding.” Bren steps out and shuts both doors, locking them. He moves around into the van. I can sort of hear a heated exchange between him and Hock.

As the van begins to move on I’m flooded with memories of the nights recent events. I start to cry and begin to fall asleep. It’s a long drive back and I need the rest. When we get home It’s going to start again.

To be continued!