Poor Little Rich Slut (12 page)

When the whipping ended, I slumped in my bonds exhausted, thinking how much I was ready to be sexually taken. I wanted them to use me, all of them to use me.

I might well have been ready for
sex,
however, my torturers were not.

There was more pain to heap on me.

Following the whipping, several of the men swarmed my body. The filleted flesh across my shoulders was pinched at least a dozen times with clothespins, forming what felt like two ribbons of pinched flesh. Surprisingly the pins hardly hurt at all, though they did feel dangerous and wonderfully wicked.

“You know what happens when I tug on these handles and pull the clothespins free?” The man’s fingers danced along the pins and I felt each one tug my skin.

I shook my head; I didn’t know.

“I pull this string and they’ll all rip off, every last one of them in a split second.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew enough to be afraid, to have my dripping cunt seize up in fear, and more tears dampen the scarf until it was soaking wet. The man heard my sob.

“Ah, slut, you’re just starting to weep,” that ugly voice spat at me.

The man stood back and I felt a tug. Then something sudden and swift roared through me like a bolt of lightning. I saw lights and colors; I tasted my own blood as I bit down on my lips. I smelled heat and sex like I never had before. All this happened within the same small second,
then
everything was gone.

I fainted.

I revived when a hand slapped hard against my ass and I woke up feeling
woosy
and yet strangely at peace.

Yes, yes, now they’d lay me down and fuck me.

But they didn’t lay me down to rest.

True, the bonds were undone and a pair of supportive hands pulled me from the metal wall. But it was only to turn me around and push me back against the hard surface, where my wounded skin felt the sensation of being rubbed against the wall. I was anchored
again,
face forward this time, my breasts, belly and cunt made vulnerable to their attack.

A different kind of pain followed. Weights were dangled from both the rings in my crotch. Clothespins were clamped on my nipples and breasts. Others were attached to my labia until I felt like a gigantic pincushion.

Then the action of the whip began again. The delicate end jumped off my body in strike after strike, sometimes biting the flesh like the devil; at other times just grazing the skin teasingly, as if to remind me for a moment what pleasure felt like. I seemed a glutton for this kind of punishment; the sensation felt dangerous, frightening and resplendent at the same time.

Sometimes, when the next strike hit with a viscous bite, the pleasure vanished and was replaced by a persistent, piercing pain. I cried again, and then again, when with razor sharp precision, each of the clothespins
were
one-by-one snapped off my flesh. Some expert wielded the awful implement. My body battled back and forth from pain to pleasure until I was completely drained.

Again, when the torture was over, I slumped limply against the metal wall. I was nearly dangling by my wrists, about to faint again.

Once I was removed from the restraints, a pair of large hands shoved me to my knees and then dragged me by my hair. Some mean hand slapped my face back and forth, until I was delirious. That hand hardly stung, but I cried as I endured this humiliating show of the man’s contemptuous brutality.

Jerked upright on my knees, I felt several bodies move in close; one directly in front of me, a cock pressed to my mouth. That first cock gagged me; though it wouldn’t let me refuse it. Grabbed by the ears, my face was shoved forward, my throat impaled. I was forced to submit and give the man what he wanted.

“Suck it, rich slut!”

I sucked. I had no choice.

“And use your hands,” he ordered.

This was all new to me. I’d never been taught how to satisfy a man this way. I tentatively reached for the organ I serviced with my mouth. Then at the same time, someone guided my other hand to my side where it found another impatient erection. I stroked that one while I sucked the other, pouring my energy into both in hopes that I could please both men.

What a ghastly pleasure this was!

I was faced-fucked by who knows how many turgid erections. I sucked in, ran my tongue about their cock-heads, let my saliva slather the meaty stalks and took one spewing member after another to climax. This was a first for me in my young sexual life. I had no idea what to make of it, how to feel or think about what must have looked like a porn video, repugnant,
slutty
but definitely arousing.

“All the way down, rich girl!”

I gulped fiercely, trying to keep up with
the cum
that splashed in my mouth, on my face, against my hair, jetting in streams that bathed me with the pungent smells and sticky substance. I drank as much as I could, the rest I wore.

Afterwards, they batted their slowly diminishing erections against my face.

“Lick them clean!”

“Yeah, just look at our little society girl now,” someone jeeringly exclaimed.

Strange irony that was: I’d never been the society girl in my mind. But maybe I couldn’t run away from the truth of how the world thought of me.

“Poor little rich slut!” My face got slapped again.

“String her up!”

I went from my knees to the air. With thick supportive cuffs strapped around my ankles, I was dangled from some apparatus that pulled me upside-down into the air. My fingertips just barely grazed the hardwood floor. My legs had been spread and fixed to either end of a wide bar so it was impossible to close them.

Someone slapped my ass with the palm of his hand.

“You’re right, she likes pain,” the man exclaimed. He had his hand in my crotch finding my cunt juicy.

“And she’ll take a little more before we’re through,” another voice chimed in.

“
Goddam
right!”

More?
I couldn’t imagine more.

I hadn’t realized until then that the butt-plug Garrison had me insert in my ass during dinner was still in place. Someone touched it—more like
pushed
it deeper into my anal cleft and my memory returned.
A warning of things to come.
A few moments later, I felt someone prying the thing from me, which was no easy task after
it
had been in me so long. When it finally slurped from my body with a popping sound, I felt empty without it. Even after all this torture, there remained a gnawing sexual ache in my belly that had not yet been satisfied. Perhaps the desire went away when the pain crashed through me, but it never fled altogether.

“This will widen her ass if anything will.” I imagined the man holding up another, larger butt-plug for his friends to see.

Within moments, there were hands roughly mauling my ass and massaging that nether gateway. I felt the opening stretch as they stuffed fingers into my ass. Despite the way I’d been mercilessly worked over and should have been ready to pass out, the invasive activity awakened my body again. Before long, I sensed the end of the thick plug pressing the opening of my rectum and moving inside.

“Go ahead and shove it!” For the first time since the warehouse door opened, it was Garrison’s voice speaking. His voice was gritty and stern—no comfort at all. A whole lot of misery followed as whoever did the shoving took him literally. I may have been well-greased but the fat thing didn’t go in easily.

My scream rose angrily at first, then I felt hands stroking my back and Garrison’s soothing voice trying to calm me down.

“Yes, you can do this, Ellie,” he said softly. “It’s going to happen. You tell yourself it’ll fit and it will. I know you.”

But I didn’t want it to fit
, I felt like screaming back. Hadn’t I had enough?

Garrison kept on. “If not for yourself, then for me, slut,” he sounded a little less soothing and more demanding this time. The prick slowly inched its way inside and my clenching muscles started to relax. In the same way that all of the other crude and painful things I endured that night transformed into pleasure, I felt a strange sensation of wonderment with my rear channel opening to allow the intruder inside. While the terrible pressure did not stop, the rigid stalk moved ever deeper until I felt my body swallow the entire length of the enormous thing.

The experience of being filled up in the restaurant was nothing compared to this.

“See, I knew you could.” Garrison again.

I seemed to float for a time, detached from everything but the consuming sensation of being totally breached. My body swayed so I couldn’t tell what was up or down, left or right. Then suddenly I was on the ground, lying against the hard wooden floor of the old warehouse with Garrison at my side. The others appeared to have left us. With the blindfold gone, I returned again to the dismal darkness and stared into Garrison’s eyes.

Although I treasured the intimacy we shared in that brief moment, I hated the prick that remained lodged inside my rectum. “Oh please, do I have to keep this in?” I asked him.

“You do until I fuck you,” he said.

“Why are you being so hard?”

“Would you want me to be a
wuss
? Some pansy-ass guy who would cave in to every little thing you ask?”

We both knew that answer.

“So I have to suffer?”

“Whether you suffer or not is your choice, Ellie. But you will wear the dildo until I fuck you.”

“Then fuck me now, please!” I cried.

He shook his head.
“You little conniver.
You think I’m going to fall for that?”

No he wouldn’t fall for that.

Garrison pulled me to my feet—no easy task with my body aching and sore. I was a little dizzy and the anal plug made it difficult to stand.

“You’re going to be fine,” Garrison assured me.

I looked around, trying to find my clothes in the dark.

“Here, he said, handing me a pile of clothes I recognized, although some were noticeably missing. I found my blouse, my skirt and my new red high heels. But no bra, no panties, no slip, no jacket were anywhere to be found. I did have a massive cock stuck up my butt and straps to hold the thing in place. Although I was thankful for those straps, I felt awkward and exposed, as if even with my clothes on these people could see the dildo sticking in my ass. My body was still sticky with cum, my hair no doubt a mess.

Home.
I prayed we were going home.

Outside the warehouse, the air was foggy; a mist from the ocean had settled in around the city. Though we walked in the direction of Garrison’s car, I was surprised when we stopped at the city bus stop and waited for the next bus.

“Why not drive?” I asked him, bewildered.

“I’m not sure you’re good to walk the distance. This will get us to the penthouse faster.

“The penthouse?
Daddy’s penthouse?”

“I have the key.”

“And how did you get that?”

“Asked him.”

“Does he know…I mean, know I’m going to be with you?”

“I have no idea. But don’t worry; he won’t be there.”

My apartment would have worked just fine with me. Maybe this was some symbolic gesture, or Garrison’s twisted sense of humor. Any particular meaning escaped me, although by that time I couldn’t care less. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to fuck him anymore. The raging sexual desire seemed to quit me sometime during the moments after I was released, put on my clothes, and then retreated down that bleak stairwell.

Numb best describes my state of being when Garrison helped me onto the city bus and we roared off in the direction of my Daddy’s downtown penthouse. Another of many new worlds greeted me, as we walked toward the back of the bus and I stared at each passenger we passed by. Most gazed at me briefly then averted their eyes. No one seemed to recognize my face, or if they did, they didn’t care. All so blank, expressionless and remote. And here was I, looking like a used-up whore, I imagine, hair filled with cum, and under my skirt a fat dildo plugging my ass. I don’t suppose they wanted me in their world any more than I wanted to be in theirs.

Still feeling numb, I entered the hotel lobby hanging onto Garrison’s arm. We passed the concierge, who noted our arrival with a raised eyebrow,
then
we took the penthouse elevator to our own private world.

***

Garrison laid me down to fuck me in the big broad bed of the guest suite. I spread my legs wide, letting him loosen the straps that held the huge anal plug in place, although it didn’t budge an inch even without the straps.

I felt suddenly brought back to life from the numbness that overwhelmed me as we left the warehouse. Now I was in awe of everything—the way the bed sounded, the feel of soft cotton against my skin, the experience of Garrison breathing close by and how he touched me gently. Even the sour taste in my mouth and the hurt that made my muscles ache and my raw, wounded skin seemed to bless me now. I viewed the room around me, the beauty of the familiar surroundings and half-recoiled, half-rejoiced, knowing that I’d be defiling this place, just as I defiled Daddy’s country house. While this was no sacred shrine, it was my father’s house. I couldn’t imagine a more delightfully wicked thing to do than fuck Garrison in this place.