I'll admit I was impressed by the device Dan had put together to transport me. It was a red plastic bin. In the brief glimpse I caught of it from the outside, it looked like it had some white lettering on it. Very "Baywatch"-style official. It was not quite as long as I am tall.
I am only 5'2". And husky. Dan would force me to say I'm husky. I have a great big ass that most men like to smack. I don't have a classically pretty face. Most of the time, Dan liked to keep me in a full head harness, with a gag that had a black panel attached to it, covering my mouth. How it had gotten to be this way was a gradual thing. I had started off as Dan's girlfriend. His live-in girlfriend. He met me, and soon we were fucking like rabbits.
The physical attraction was already there, waiting for us, and all we had to do was look at each other to bring it into being. He'd put his hand around my shoulder, walking on crowded sidewalks, and then slide it down into the back pocket of my jeans, squeezing my ass for the whole world to see.
Soon I moved in, and there we were. After a few weeks of sharing the same space, breathing the same breaths, getting to know the sound and pattern of each others footsteps around the small house—and, of course, having tons of sex—we had committed the image and contours of each others bodies firmly to memory.
At night, and in the mornings, he had convinced me to let him tie me up before he fucked me. In the past, I'd liked it when he spanked me during sex. Now I found I liked it when he spanked me while I was tied up. The sting on my ass raised goosebumps all over me. After a while, when he reached under the bed for the rope, it felt natural. I quickly found that I kind of liked all of it.
The bondage thing. With the ropes, and the sex, and the spanking, it wasn't a conscience enjoyment just a physical, body response, one I felt I couldn't help. But when he introduced me to the harness gag, and in the mornings, when Dan sometimes tied me up and fucked me despite my resistance, when he pulled orgasms from me against my will, when he came on me and left me there to "marinate" in him, which he knew I hated—with that stuff, there was a mental enjoyment, one I hadn't expected.
The helplessness of it, the humiliation, the reduction of myself in the eyes of another—I felt weirdly thrilled by it. I was learning what I was, and it was dirtier than I'd imagined.
I was still living there. But things had.progressed. Dan was turning more devious, I was losing control, and that was okay. Every day, I was being spanked and lightly tortured and having lots of sex with Dan. Being taught, being reduced. Day by day. Learning to satisfy his strange whims. Sinking further in front of him. Which got me off. Cleaning. Being tied in strange positions, naked or in panties, and ordered to clean. Being ordered to do this in front of Dan's friends.
Being humiliated and fucked and being made to be utterly dependent. And cumming. Cumming so much. Sinking into an orgasmic kind of love, through all of this. Jennifer singer wet college babe jerks off stiff had not worn a top for about a week. The only bottoms I'd been (occasionally) allowed to wear were my old lacy cream panties or a pair of boxers.
I waddled around the living room, with my knees zip-tied together and my husky thighs sweating, my elbows tied behind me and my harness gag in, with a pathetic green sponge in my hand—bending over with difficulty when I dropped it, huffing and puffing—cleaning weed residue off the coffee table and the floor.
I had slipped from Dan's live-in girlfriend to his live-in bondaged maid, hobbling around gagged and mostly naked for his and his few friends' amusement. But the sex and the spanking and the shame gave me my daily endorphin fix, and I slipped into my new role as easily as if it had been a silk nightgown.
The harness gag was always in if Dan's friends were around. Only four ever got to see me this way. They were all close. All but Dan were overgrown boys though, drinking a lot, young wet-mouthed potheads, unkempt and disheveled.
When I was the live-in girlfriend, they'd seen me as Dan's toy. Now I was a better toy, one they got some benefit out of. The harness gag made me more fun to play with. They took advantage of my inability to respond, mocking me, putting words in my mouth, torturing me with their insults as only boys in their early-20s can. Dan's friends were also allowed to spank me, just like he did. They spanked me if I messed up cleaning, or if I blocked their view of the TV, or if they were drunk and just thought it was funny.
Dan would even order me to lay across so-and-so's lap just so I could model some of so-and-so's handprints on my ass while I cleaned. The bong would get passed to this friend, and he'd rest it on my ass while he took his bong-rip, and then he'd go back to playing with me. Some of the more bold mz peachtree and shawty red got to order me to do things too.
They'd spill beer on the kitchen linoleum and order me to clean it. I'd get to the floor awkwardly, my elbows tied behind my back and my knees zip-tied together, and do as he said. One friend even tied a sponge to my face, and told me to clean it that way, with my nose to the floor. Then he told me to wiggle my ass for him. Then—I was stunned and excited—he cut off the ties on my elbows and knees and told me to spread out on all fours, so I could really shake my ass.
I looked back towards the living room, frantic, with that pathetic, nasty, wet green sponge tied across my harness gag, looking for Dan. I couldn't see him, he was out of sight, around the corner at the end of the hall. I shook my ass. This friend got down on the floor, right there in the kitchen, and he fucked me. I was in shock. He fucked me hard and quick and he pulled out and came all over my back. I was sure Dan could hear it from the living room, but he didn't do anything.
I just took the sponge off my face and used it to clean myself up, and then I disappeared to the bathroom and took a shower. The first time I had sex with one of Dan's friends, I cried. This was only about 2 weeks before I learned of the red bin. Dan and I were in bed. Alone. Having fun on a sunny afternoon. I was on my back, with my ankles tied to the bedposts, and the harness gag was in. Then Dan opened the door, and I heard him whispering in the hall.
His friend appeared in the doorway, and saw me. He looked at me like the polar express had just arrived. He moved carefully into the room, smiling nervously, walking like he was on dangerous ground, not sure what was off-limits and what wasn't. Dan confirmed that it was okay, and the friend climbed up on the bed. Dust-motes swirled in the sunlight, and there were clips on my nipples. I cried. But Dan just smiled and licked my tears.
He kissed me and licked me all over my face around the gag, and then he put his tongue in my ear, and I closed my eyes and let my brain blossom in orgasm and moaned into that black panel. When Dan reached down to toy with my clit, I shot him a look, and our eyes met above my mask, and love shot like pinpricks to every part of my body. Dan rarely drank, and like me, he never used drugs. He just didn't seem as.out of control—for lack of a better word—as his friends.
Yet he inhabited this maven as though he had designed every last inch of it himself. This house, his small group of friends who saw and sometimes used me, the crazy things that went on there it all seemed like a natural growth from the weird and fertile garden bed that was Dan. Watching it grow and change was exciting.
It may not always sound like it, but the truth is that I loved my time in that house. Every day was different. And though I couldn't exactly express it with my face, there was a big fat smile in my head a lot of the time. Starting recently, at night, small earbuds were put in my ears. They were held there with black gauze, that was wrapped just around my ears and the top of my head. I could still see.
Then Dan would plug the earbuds into an mp3 player, and a friendly female voice, just higher than mine, would repeat mantras in my ear that I was supposed to repeat. "I am a slut." "I am a hole." "I am a piece of property, a machine.
A dick cleaning machine." My reduction was progressing. "Like a golf ball-washer but for dicks." I could hear whatever bikini cougars deauxma amp shay fox fuck a big black cock this was smiling as she said it. As usual, after my shower that day I'd remained naked. My wrists were tied together and pulled back behind my head, so that my elbows were above my head.
The harness gag was in. So were the earbuds. Then my legs were folded under me, and my ankles were tied to my thighs. Dan had trussed me up like that on the bed, then thrown me over his shoulder and carried me to the red bin.
Like I said, I was impressed. It wasn't the bin itself that impressed me, although the attachments in there seemed to have been installed with me in mind. It was the cushion. It was almost a mattress! That bin was nowhere near as big as a twin bed, and yet Dan had got this mattress-type thing. Or made it. It was like a futon cushion that perfectly filled the bottom of the bin.
Dan lowered me down in there, and he slapped one of my boobs and squeezed the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and ordered me to keep my legs spread. He lowered me down knees first, and I looked down and saw there was a short metal pipe extending horizontally from one end of the bin that I had to avoid. I did as I was told and kept my legs on either side of it. I was laid on my back.
My elbows, over my head, were secured to a hook at one end of the bin, and my knees were secured to two respective hooks on either side of the other end. Despite my awkward position, with the cushion it didn't feel too bad.
I figured out what that short horizontal pipe was for when Dan started attaching his hitachi to it. He pushed that hitachi up right snug against my clit, that spot he knew so well, and he fastened it there tight with a metal ring clamp.
I fit perfectly. I was happy! Though I could not have expressed it then, I realize now that what I felt was some pride in this bin, some ownership of it. It obviously had been made with me in mind. It fit me perfectly. And despite my position, it was actually somewhat comfortable, lying there on the mattress.
I tried to catch Dan's eyes, to show him my appreciation, but he wasn't interested. He just plugged my earplugs into the mp3 player, dropped it on my stomach and left me there. This was the day that everything changed. Our fun and games around the house became something much deeper.
I'd known I was learning, being reduced. But I hadn't fully appreciated that there were additional, lower levels to which I could be reduced. That I could be brought down farther and farther. I should have known, but I didn't. Until then, everything had progressed gradually, at a pace I could handle. But enough excuses. What happened, happened. Looking back now, I can say that that day was like learning that the surface I'd been treading so happily on was actually the surface of a lake, and what I'd thought was the ground was actually very deep water.
All of the sudden I sank very quickly, and kept sinking. I've learned a lot about objectification, and how wonderful it can be. That day though, I knew nothing. That day I was just terrified. The smiling voice in my ear said, "Like a golf ball washer but for [click]." Dan pressed the pause button on my stomach.
I'd felt multiple sets of heavy footsteps approaching across the hardwood floor, and dimly I'd heard voices laughing. Now I looked up at three male faces, only one of which I'd ever seen before. Dan shoved his head at me angrily, and yelled, "Ya hear me, bitch?" I nodded. One of the faces was unshaven, with dark golden hair down to his shoulders, and a wet mouth, and he looked crazy. The other stranger had dark hair, and appeared shy.
He didn't shave either, but he must've been young all he had was a hair-lip. "You like the way you're sittin'?" Dan yelled, smiling but angry. I didn't know how to respond. Dan squatted down beside me, slapping my left boob and then squeezing the nipple. "We're gonna have fun with this one," he said to his friends.
The strangers smiled. "Are you gonna be a good little slut?" Dan asked me directly. I didn't know what to do. This was totally different than anything he had ever done or said before. I know it sounds crazy, but the few friends of Dan's I'd been with before were people who I knew and had known for a while.
They were always around while Dan and I.grew into our situation. It was a gradual thing with them. Dan had never exposed me to people I had never seen before. And he just seemed different today. The tender kissing, licking reassurance had totally disappeared. All that was left was— "I said, are you gonna be a good amateur asian lily masturbates her sexy body slut?" He pinched my nipple harder.
With the gag, I couldn't respond. I was terrified. I was on my back, on the floor, head-gagged and tied, trussed to the sides of a plastic bin, looking up into 3 sets of angry male eyes. Dan read my terror, and smiled.
He flipped on the hitachi. My back arched for these strangers. Dan stood back up. "You're gonna tell these gentlemen what a slut you are, or they aren't gonna believe me." The weird, quiet, dark-haired one had taken his dick out and was stroking it right there, over me.
The hairy blonde one looked crazy. "Tell us what a gooood little slut you are," he cooed at me like I was a dog. "This chick has had sex with four guys in the past week!" Dan yelled, "and she won't even say she's a slut!" I winced at that, and teared up. First, I had had sex with five guys. Unless he really didn't know about the guy in the kitchen—which was impossible—Dan had forgotten to include himself.
That hurt. He was just thinking of the four other guys he'd seen (or heard) had sex with me, as though all that mattered to him was watching me being fucked, like I was some anonymous girl in a porno on a screen. I was scared by that. Second, three of those guys had had sex with me at Dan's behest—had been invited into the room by him—while I was on my back with a harness gag strapped in and my ankles tied back.
I had cried when the first one took me. It was not exactly as though I'd asked for it. "Tell us what a slut you are!!" Dan yelled. I had been his girlfriend. A hot tear spilled down my cheek, and I shook my head no, feebly. The other two couldn't stop themselves from playing with their new toy any longer. The dark one kneaded my breast with his free hand. The blonde one leaned over, and seemed to like running his fingertips back and forth across my pubic stubble, and gently touching my vagina lips, and trying to press the hitachi against me harder than it was.
I squirmed and struggled to breathe, heaving through my runny nose, and arched my back, turning angry, and flushing hot. I could feel my face burning bright red, alternating between hate and humiliation, furious because these strangers had the gall to just reach out and touch my naked body, and embarrassed because, in spite of myself, that vibrator and all this touching had me damn close to cumming.
They stood up and Dan moved back in. "Do you know how goddamn ridiculous you look?!" He slapped my tit, stinging it hard.
"Do you know how fucking ridiculous you look right now?!" Dan pulled out his cell phone, mia khalifa new 2019 xxx story positioned it to snap a picture. The blonde one laughed. "Look at you!" He took the picture. He showed it to his two friends. They all laughed. Even the weird one with his dick in his hand laughed.
Dan got back down beside me and slapped my chest again. Then he spat on me. I flinched. "Spit in her face!" The blonde one leaned in quick and spat hard, angrily, all over me. The weird one leaned down over melanie pees and fucks herself fetish teen, and took his time working up a good chunk of saliva, and then sent it down hard, right into my eye.
I flared red. The spit rolled down my face. Dan just laughed and pinched my nipple. "You look goddamn ridiculous," he said. "A slut in a goddamn slut-box who won't even…!" he broke off laughing. Then he turned his phone around and showed me. I shuddered, and blushed an even deeper red, feeling the shame move even to my chest.
The white writing on the side of the red bin said "SLUT." They all laughed hard at the look on my face when I saw it.
They laughed for what seemed like five full minutes, bent over the counters and slapping their knees, saying "that Slut can't believe we've got her name on a box!" Laughing.
I shut my eyes tight, and more tears fell, listening to them laughing, while the vibrator pressed against me buzzed away, sending hot electric spasms all through me. The weird, dark-haired one broke off laughing before the other two. He stood beside me and grew serious, and stroked his dick faster. Dan just leaned back against the counter. "Go 'head, Chuck," he said. Chuck closed his eyes and got a pained look on his face and breathed heavily.
Then he came. He came all over me. It wasn't a spray. It was more like a rain that fell in big drops and went on for much too long, some landing on my chest, but most on my face, on the front of my harness gag, and in my hair.
Then I couldn't help it. I found myself cumming too, bucking and moaning and embarrassed to no end by the hot droplets of cum I looked up through. Chuck just smiled down at me, and licked his hair-lip, and put himself away. The blonde one pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket four sluts banged by one horny man, and ripped it. "Do you have a pen?" he smiled.
He had a strong chin, and the beginnings of a beard that would grow in thick. He was handsome, but too intense. Like a pretty, hollow statute with a bat inside it. Something unstable was at the controls. Dan saw where this was going and took a sharpie out of a drawer, and wrote on the scrap of paper. Then he rubbed the paper in some of the cum on my breasts, and he rubbed it in some that was on the sides of the bin, and he spat on me, and he stuck it on my face.
He tried to put it on my cheek, but it slid, so grabbed me roughly by the chin, to hold me still, and he stuck it smack on my forehead. Then he spat in my face again. Dan took one more quick picture, and put his phone in his pocket. I didn't need to be shown the picture to know what the cum-splattered scrap of paper on my forehead said. I was squirming, moaning into my gag. Dan ran his fingers from my vagina, up my stomach, to my chest, and grabbed a nipple, hard, pulling it towards him.
"Now do you know what you are?" The vibrator on my clit still buzzed. Again, my situation hit me with humiliating clarity. Naked, gagged, heaving, clipped with metal hooks to the sides of a slut-bin—my slut-bin, some unbidden submissive voice in my head said—and looking up at three horny, angry men, helpless.
The image of me there, that they'd shown me on the cell phone, felt burned into my brain. When I closed my eyes, I saw it. And my mind's eye had already formed a new picture of me laying there, covered with cum, the word "slut" on a sticky piece of paper drying to my forehead. My back was arched and my legs and arms ached and the vibrator still horny latina teen gets banged in doggy style all through me.
"Are you a gonna be a good slut?" I swallowed hard, blinking back my tears, and then looked him straight in the eyes and nodded my head yes. "GOOD," he growled, flipping the hitachi to its highest setting. Then he pressed play on the mp3 player, spat in my face once more and put the lid on the bin. In the SUV, I let myself go. I had nothing to look at but the red darkness of the bin, flashing light and dark as we moved through sun and shade.
That voice in my ears was eerily similar to mine. "You are a hole. You are a piece of property, a machine. A dick-cleaning machine.
Like a golf ball washer, but for dicks. Think of yourself as a golf ball washer," she said happily, "one of those green posts on a golf course. Stationary. A post. You are a post for cleaning dicks. A post with a hole. You and your hole will be bent over a post, and your wet hole will be there, for men to use. You are a warm, wet hole. A hole for cleaning dicks." The voice was so cheerful. "You are a whore. You are a hole. You are a piece of property, a machine." The voice got to where you didn't even hear it.
It just canceled out other noises. In the background, the men's voices occassionally got loud, laughing or yelling. The hitachi buzzed furiously, and I squirmed and breathed and orgasmed. The bin slid across the carpeted rear floor of the SUV on curves. I totally lost myself. Alone with my voice, bleary from cumming, just watching the light flicker.
I may have dreamed. To be honest, I was in heaven. I had forgotten about everything. The back doors of the SUV opening started me back to earth. I felt the bin being dragged out, and the same rough hands that had carried me there swung me out and then set me gently on the ground. The sun blinded me with whiteness when they took off the lid. Dan switched off the hitachi and took it away. He unclipped me from the sides of the bin and cut the ropes off my legs. Then he grabbed me by an arm and dragged me gingerly to my feet.
I stood uncertainly. The blonde-haired guy "helped" me stand by cupping one breast from behind and putting his hand on my ass. Dan undid my harness gag and took it gently out of my mouth. I worked my jaw to try to get it feeling normal again. The blonde guy spanked me. My hands were still behind my head. "Do you like standing?" Dan asked. I just looked at him, dazed. "Go ahead and stretch out, cuz this is the last time you're gonna stand up straight for a while." I looked around.
I was ass naked, standing up in a red bin, in the middle of an asphalt parking lot in an apparently industrial area. A chain-linked fence topped with barbed wire surrounded the parking lot. We were in a cluster of metal buildings, apparently warehouses, with off-white corrugated metal sides and rusty trim. I could hear what sounded like dump trucks, or machinery, in the distance. It was hot. Blondie spanked me again, and squeezed my tit.
"Get down on your side," Dan said. I slowly knelt and then shifted back down onto the bin-mattress, and lay on my side, with my knees drawn to my chest, in one of the positions Dan frequently used for horny momma fucked hard and got a cumshot me.
Almost immediately, I knew what he was doing. He was tying me in one of my cleaning positions. He wound a rope all the way around my back and legs, then cinched those together with a rope across my waist. I could stand, but awkwardly I would be kept bent over, with my ass out.
Blondie cut loose my hands and moved them to my sides, producing a cylindrical length of wood. The wooden bar was placed behind my back, and my elbows were moved pretty latin babe rides on the hard cock of bp officer hardcore brunette it, and my wrists were tied to each other by a rope that ran wanking brit beauty stripping in lingerie handjob cumshot my stomach.
They helped me back to my feet. I was standing, bent over for them. Then Blondie did something new to me. He pulled my hair tight in a ponytail, and started tying a rope to it. Dan had never done this before. When my look expressed surprise, Dan slapped me across my face. It stung, and I was dazed. Blondie tested the rope, using it to pull my hair. My head tilted back like a doll's. Blondie slid the rope beneath the wooden bar, and pulled it down, passing it between my legs, and back up against my vagina and pubic area, looping it through a knot he'd put in my wrist-rope.
Blondie, apparently, had done this before. He passed the rope back through my legs, and pulled it back up between my asscheeks, across my lower back, and underneath the wooden bar that held my elbows in place. Then he pulled the whole thing tight.
My head was pulled back, so that though I was bent over, my face was held up. My wrists were pulled more tightly together in the front. And the ropes between my legs dug tightly into me, pressing against me there (I hate using dirty words for my vagina) and making themselves at home in my ass-crack.
Dan smiled at the expression on my face as Blondie did this. The rope, tightened, was tied to the wooden bar, and it was finished. I was trussed like a turkey. Blondie took a second to admire his work, bringing me barefoot out of the bin onto the hot asphalt, and then slapped my ass.
The quiet, dark-haired guy had pulled his dick out of his pants again, and then moved around towards my face, which, bent over as I was, was about dick-height. He was shoving it towards my mouth. When Dan and Blondie saw me refusing this, they weren't having it. "Suck iitttt," Blondie intoned, giving me a firm slap on the ass. "I thought you told me you were gonna be a good slut," Dan said, tugging on the rope between my legs. He squeezed my nipples and gave me sex stories hind prond xx story own slap on my ass.
I opened my mouth and took this stranger into it. I had worked up a lot of saliva with the gag in for so long, and I gave it all to this weird guy's hard dick. Dan and Blondie took turns playing with the rope between my legs and spanking my ass. Did I mention I was in the middle of slutty babe all holes boned by black men hot empty parking lot, in the middle of the day?
Yea. With the sun beating down on me and the asphalt stinging my feet, I sucked a hair-lipped stranger's dick while two other guys fondled my tits and slapped my ass. I honestly tried to give this guy a good blowjob, and even though I was tied up awkwardly and I couldn't use my hands, I think that I did.
Maybe at some point during all this I took a second to appreciate everything that was going on, but I doubt it. While I was using every little bit of warmth and wetness in my mouth to please Chuck, Dan zip-tied my knees together.
He likes to see me hobble. Then he took out a new toy. It was a cattle-prod. I heard it crackle before I saw it, and I swung my head around to get a look at it. Blondie yanked me off my feet by the crotch-rope. "Eyes up front, bitch!" he commanded. "Stay focused on what you're doin'." I went back to sucking Chuck, moving rhythmically, my throat making weird sucking noises, while Dan ran the cattle-prod up my thigh, just to let me know it was there.
Then he shocked me with it, right on the inner part of my ass cheek. With my mouth around Chuck's dick, I let out a scream and then moaned for what must have been a long time. Chuck moaned himself, feeling those vibrations run through his dick. Dan grabbed me by the hair and pulled me off this weird stranger. "C'mon bitch, you can't be screamin' like that out here." He tried to pull me to walk, but with the zip-ties around my knees, I wasn't going anywhere fast.
I hobbled the best I could. The weird guy with the hair-lip rubbed my buttcheek with one hand and stroked his dick with the other, walking beside me. Dan shocked me again and told me to get a move on, and they laughed and watched me hobble. After a few minutes of shocks and slaps and pinches and gropes, we'd moved maybe 10 yards.
It was all hilarity for the boys. Dan finally threw me over his shoulder and carried me toward one of the warehouses. As we got closer to it, I could hear voices. Lots of them.
It sounded like a party. From my upside-down view hanging over Dan's back, I saw a swath of motorcycles parked all around the door. When we came through the door, into the cool darkness of the warehouse, there was a loud cheer.
Most all the voices seemed deep. There were one of two cat-calls. Dan carried me through a crowd of men, apparently bikers, and these men applauded and cussed and slapped me on the ass. Dan stopped once or twice to let a particular guy get a good clean swat. I'm really not sure what I was feeling at that point.
I guess I was terrified, but I was still a bit cum-drunk from the ride in my slut-bin, and the whole thing honestly just felt unreal. It was like a dream. Not a good dream, and not necessarily a bad dream either, in retrospect.
But definitely not real. It wasn't until much later that I remembered the word "slut" was glued to my forehead during all of this. Dan set me on my feet, in my bent-over gimp tie, and then he backed away. A circle formed around me. The men took turns stepping up to me in groups to fondle me, squeezing my ass hard, gripping it, lifting it examining the goods. The wooden bar that was behind my back, securing my elbows there, provided another easy means to control me.
They used it to pull me and push me and turn me any way they wanted. More than one guy took great joy in lifting me off the ground by my crotch rope with one hand, and spanking me with the other, turning me for everyone to see.
My ass stung like hell by this time. The crotch-rope tied to my hair kept my head pulled up, so I got a good look at most of the crowd. Two or three girls were there. Clothed, unlike me. I searched their faces. They were here with their men, their.boyfriends? Was that it? They were here with their Dans? They were smiling.
They were here to see the show. One man slapped my face, and told me to open my mouth, which I did absent-mindedly. He spat in it. This turned foxy sluts get their twats hammered hard a game.
One man would slap my face, while another yanked my crotch-rope and spanked my ass, and they would all yell for me to open my mouth, to stick out my tongue. Then they'd spit on me. If I didn't open my mouth, or didn't stick out my tongue far enough for their liking, then the man with the crotch-rope would lift me off me feet and hold me there until I did what I was told.
I had totally lost track of Dan at this point. After I was held in the air by the crotch-rope a number of times, I just kept my mouth open, and took a lot of spitting.
One of the girls took a turn. She made me look her in the eyes and ask her to spit on me. I was held off the ground by a rope running straight through me (did I mention I hate dirty words for it?) until I looked this thin biker brunette fully in her smiling green eyes, and asked her, please, to spit on me.
Another man, a grey-haired old man with a mustache and mutton chops, caught me at a moment when my tongue was stuck way out, and my eyes were closed. He took my tongue into his mouth and sucked on it, until I finally had the wherewithal to recoil. This started a loud chant for me to make out with this greasy old man. He licked my pretty brunette hair luscious girl rides up plump cock girlfriend and homemade and squeezed my nipples while they chanted.
The guy behind me lifted me up again, and I felt his fingers start to work themselves into my ass while this gross old man licked my face. One finger was in to the second knuckle when I broke down and made out with the old man. I do not like things in my ass. I made out with the old man passionately, so that the man behind me would stop. I gave my whole tongue to greasy Mr.
Mutton-Chops and he sucked on it and sucked on it some more, and he put his own tongue into my mouth and groped at my vagina, pulling my crotch rope from the front until finally I was set back down. The crowd roared and the old man breathed hot, putting his nasty tongue in my ear. It wasn't until the apparent leader of this crowd came up to me that this greasy old leach unlatched himself from me. For some reason, everyone knew to quiet down when this guy came up to me.
That's why I thought he was the leader. I would say he was 6'5" and over 300 lbs, with long, thick gray hair, and a gray goatee that hung down to his chest. He said something to the crowd about how many good sluts they'd gotten lately, and then he spanked me hard with his huge open hand, and loudly asked me my name. When I said "Elizabeth," the crowd roared with laughter, and the huge leader spanked me again and again. My ass was on fire.
And I'd forgotten about the label on my forehead. When he asked me my name again, I said meekly, "Slut," and the crowd roared its appreciation, cheering. The leader reached down to my bent-over form, and he put a black dog collar on me, attaching a chain link leash to it.
He tugged on the leash once and then stood, holding it, waiting patiently as the zip-ties were cut off my knees, and the gimp-tie around my back and thighs was cut off, allowing me to stand.
The crotch-rope, which ran from my hair down through my legs, was cut free. It dangled from my hair like a second leash. My hands were still bound in front of me, with the wood post behind my back keeping my elbows in place. One man tried to put a new ball-gag in my mouth. I know this sounds uppity in light of the position I was in, but the fact of the matter was that up until then I had only ever had one gag in my mouth the full-head harness gag, with the black panel on it, that was mine, and that I loved.
When I refused this new gag, the man locked eyes with me and gripped my jaw hard and held my nose until I opened my mouth to breathe, then shoved the gag in my mouth. His strong hand covered my mouth, and he moved my head roughly, fastening the gag tight. The gag tasted funny, and I scrunched up my nose in disgust. Finally my arms were released, and a strange piece of metal was hoisted over my head and draped around my neck, like a yoke.
It was a solid, rusty piece of iron, with long bars that stretched out for a couple feet on either side of the yoke. My arms were stretched out to my sides, as far as they could go, and my wrists were clamped with metal ring clamps to these bars. I was standing, and gagged, and naked, with my arms held straight out. The leader, holding the leash, took a piece of leather from his pocket, and shook it out. He tossed it to the crowd. It was a leather hood, and quickly it was pulled over my head.
It smelled something awful. It had two small nostril holes, and two zippers one at the eye level and one at slender milf sucks on her lactating l cup tits masturbation and lactation mouth. The eye-zipper was open, so I could see. The mouth was closed. I heard the cattle prod again, crackling, and I started to cry. A short leather whip with many short strands—I guess you'd call it a flogger—had appeared and began whipping me solidly across my legs, my back, and my ass, then moving slowly around to my stomach, my breasts, and my vagina.
The leader marched me forward, tugging on my leash, and I moved as a pack of old bikers fondled me, squeezing my nipples and ass, working their hands between my legs to paw at me, slapping me, flogging me, spitting on me, and zapping me with a cattle prod as I walked. It was maybe forty yards to the other end of the warehouse. And there was Dan, standing there to greet me, leaning coolly against a stand of low wooden stocks.
His smile was huge when he saw me. His little slut was in a hood, with a huge group of bikers pawing at her, stopping as seductive teen blonde hottie hitchhikes and gets pounded pornstars hardcore moaned in pleasure when they got their fingers between her legs, then shocking her to keep her moving, pinching at her flesh beneath the yoke that held her arms out. Her body glowed red from all the slapping and the flogging, and the spittle gave her flesh a thin glistening sheen.
Her figure, her flesh, looked like a moist piece of pinkish fruit beneath a ratty black hood. She had the color and texture of the inside of a newly-ripe plum. The leash and the cattle prod were handed to Dan, and with that evil smile he pulled me towards the stocks. I was bent over, and I learned that the length of the yoke around my neck synced up pretty well with the width of the stocks in front of me.
The stocks closed over my neck and wrists, and I was held bent yet again. A padlock locked the stocks in place with a click, and a huge yell went up from the crowd.
My ass wiggled there, lonesome, exposed. My wrists were unclasped from the metal ring clamps, and the yoke was taken off me. Dan took my hood off and looked me straight in the eyes, while two men behind me secured my ankles, spread apart. "You have done very well, so far," he said. I snorted like a bull through my funny-tasting ball gag.
Dan stroked my tear-streaked and spit-covered cheek, and he petted my hair. "You are going to make me very happy." He reached down and produced the familiar earbuds, and put them in my ears. Then he kissed his hand and slapped me across the face with it, and put the hood back over my head. I bucked when I felt a drip of oil, or something slippery, slide down my asscrack. A strange hand massaged the slippery goo into my asshole, inserting a finger. Then I felt a smooth, short (2 inches?) piece of metal slide up my ass.
I screamed through my ballgag and hood, and wiggled my ass from side to side, bucking, much to the delight of the crowd. The rope tied to my hair, my "second leash," which was still hanging out of the back of my hood, was pulled taut again, and tied to the metal thing in my ass apparently it was an asshook. The rope was pulled tight, arching my back slightly and keeping my head and ass both held high. One of the men—the leader? Someone else?—was starting to enter me, rubbing my wetness vertically, opening me up, forcing himself in.
Dan reappeared in front of me, winding a thin rope around my hood, under my nose and over my ears, to keep the earbuds in place. He pressed play on the mp3 player and mouthed "bye," and waved, zipping my eyehole shut. The man behind me slid all the way in. Alone in my black hood, but not totally alone. My body focused the entirety of its attention on the length and the specific contours of the hard dick moving through me.
In my ears, that same happy voice was there again, cheerful, contrived, my evil vocal twin, albeit with a different refrain this time. The man behind me wasn't rough. He was taking his time, getting himself warmed up, building up rhythm. Inside my dark, smelly hood, I heard, "I am a hole. I will keep my hole warm and wet.
I am a slut. Dan's good little slut, but a slut nonetheless." Gleeful and irreverent. "I'm going to get fucked by one two three four guys today! I'm going to get fucked by five six seven eight guys today! I'm going to get fucked by nine ten eleven twelve guys today!" Turning authoritative: "I'm going to get fucked by every man who wants to fuck me today.
God, I am a slut. Dan's. Little. Slut. If a man can make me do this, a man can make me do anything!" The voice turned loving, radiant. "I will be a good slut. I will be obedient. I am a hole. I will keep my hole warm and wet&hellip." The man behind me had pulled out and moved aside, and a new man had entered, rougher this time.
He slammed into me, rocking the stocks. Eventually the eye-hole in my hood was unzipped, and men and women bent down in front of me and laughed, and spoke words, apparently mocking me, though I could not hear them clearly. Some people played with my asshook, and the rope attached to it, and drove me crazy that way.
Some men liked to reach around and play with my clit while they fucked me, which drove me crazy too. I don't think that any man wore a condom, but no man came inside me either. Clamps were clipped to my nipples. The leader hung some bells from the clamps, and they swung in circles whenever I was being fucked particularly hard.
I think this became a game, to see who could make the bells ring loudest, though I do not know for sure. Some men approached me from the front, and pushed their cock or balls or ass against me through my eyehole. I was too delirious to do anything about it, or even to really mind. Occasionally a man would withdraw, and apply the slippery stuff to my vagina, and then reenter.
The refrain kept echoing through my head. "I will keep my hole warm and wet." All the different dicks made my head spin. Don't focus on the "all" in that sentence, focus on the "different." The legs and hips behind me would be skinny and bony, then fat hairy, and then weirdly hairless. Their thrusts had different rhythms. Their hands chose different ways to amuse themselves, pinching or slapping, kneading or rubbing, digging into that curve of my lower back that dips before rising to form assmeat, or gripping and pulling on the meat of my asscheeks themselves.
The hands themselves even had different personalities long-fingered, then sausagey and sandpapery, tender in one instance, then a pair with unclipped nails dragging slowly up my thighs. And the many different penises, their shapes, their personalities each one made me a new person. My head was spinning.
If you think I'd hit my low point, you are wrong. If you've thought that this is what I meant when I said that today I would sink, as into a lake, to dark and undreamed-of depths, you could not be more wrong. I was sinking, that was true.
I'd been brought very forcibly into the present moment. What had been stripped from me, and burned away, was every vestige of the clothes-wearing, conversation-having, thought-contributing person I'd once been.
All that was left—though I was not conscious of it at the time (to lose some level of consciousness is kind of the point)—was an object. To become an object, one must lose her mind, and mine was certainly fading fast. But in terms of sinking? In terms of the depths, lower and lower, to which one can be reduced? I didn't even know what deep was yet. Eventually, the hood was taken off me.
The men withdrew. The ballgag and asshook were removed, and my earbuds were taken out. My ankles were unfastened. I did not know how long the fucking had gone on, and I did not know how many men had fucked flirty sweeties fuck the biggest belt cocks and spray sperm everywhere, though I would soon find out.
It was then. When I opened my eyes. That's when I learned how low I could go. It took a minute for me to return to reality. I was still locked in the wooden stocks.
I spat out the saliva that had built up behind the foul ballgag. I worked my jaw, and wiggled my ass, and bent my back, indulging whatever freedom of motion the stocks would allow. In front of me was a woman, on a black pedestal. She was sitting behind a desk and holding a microphone. She wore dark, garnet lipstick, and her black hair was pulled back tight. When she spoke into the microphone, I recognized the voice that had spoken to me in circles, in my earbuds.
I closed my eyes and reopened them and she was still there. "Young lady," she said. "You have fucked nineteen men today. Nineteen different cocks have been in you. Aren't you a lucky slut?" she said slowly, enunciating with exaggerated clarity, each syllable a dagger. Any doubt that this was anything but a nightmare faded.
Like paisley colors draining sickeningly out of a picture. Like maniacal deep horns rising to a monotone low crescendo.
Leaving only a wrong, a very wrong and twitching photo negative, in black and white. The crowd cheered, and their noise seemed to be something I could actually see and taste, sweetly rotten. "Sex is a taking," she continued. "A giving and a taking. A giving and a taking of ownership," she said, as though surprised by her own words. "These men now feel they own you.
It is street footage fantasy festival key west florida though they have devoured you, and will take you with them in their bellies wherever they go." A hand, that I did not even realize was resting on my ass, removed itself, sleeping wife gets fucked and cum on feet a paddle came down in its place, with a thwack.
"And now, as a condition of your ownership, you must take these men with you." I felt a shiver run through me, and goose-pimples raised themselves all over me on my breasts, on my nipples, to my fingers and toes. The warehouse had taken on an eerie silence.
A green bowl was slid out in front of me, on the floor. "These nineteen men, and a number of others, have collected their semen here in this bowl, for you." It wasn't real until she said it.
I screamed, and felt the paddle come down again across my ass. "You shall devour their semen as a symbol of your ownership." I sobbed openly, crying. "And you shall take these men with you wherever you go." I blubbered. I was screaming through my sobs, very loud, hysterical.
They would have heard me for miles, I thought, if there were any world outside this warehouse. Tears and snot poured out of my face. My screams began to take on the word "NOOO!!!" And through my tears, I saw the woman raise an eyebrow, and peer down at me suspiciously.
She slipped even deeper into the tone she used in my earbuds. "You are a piece of property. An owned, devoured piece of property." She was authoritative: "As a symbol of your ownership, you shall devour these men." And then cheerful: "If you do not wish to devour them, then we shall find a way to make them more palatable." One by one, the men strode to the cum bucket, silently, with fervor.
One by one, they spat into the bucket. "No, no," I cried, whimpering now. "If you do not wish to accept your ownership, then there are other ways we can force their ownership on you." The woman turned to her right, and looked up at a video that projected itself on the wall behind her. In the video, against a dark backdrop, a girl sat strapped to a sybian. Her hair was tied back, and connected to a hook in her ass, kayatan com nilabasan super wet mine had been.
This kept her face pointed up towards the sky. Her elbows were kept behind her by a wooden bar, and her wrists were tied in front, as mine had been. But her mouth her mouth was held open by some sort of ring gag. And her head was cordoned off from the rest of her, encased, to my horror, in a transparent toilet. A hole at the bottom of the toilet's basin circumscribed the girl's neck. The rope connecting the girl's hair to her asshook passed through a separate, smaller hole in the toilet basin.
The woman with the microphone, her garnet lips parted, stared at the video, radiant, enraptured by the site of that girl. Dan approached me, and rested his arm against the stocks I was in, eyeing the cum bucket there as more men spat into it. In the video, three men appeared, stark naked. I recognized one of them as the huge leader of the bikers, who had led me forward by the leash.
The men approached the girl. Or should I say they approached the toilet. This girl was, for all intents and purposes, a toilet. The transparent basin even had above it a transparent seat, like a real toilet, but clear. And there looking up from the center of the basin was the young girl's face, blinking, her hair in pigtails and her mouth held open, nose to the sky.
The leader switched on the girl's sybian. You could see the vibrations rumbling through the soft skin from her vagina to her belly button, and she moaned. Then all three men grabbed hold of their dicks, and peed, aiming their urine directly at the hole in the ring gag.
The girl shook her head, but the three pee streams got her, in her eyes, in her mouth, in her hair. Pee ran out of the girl's mouth and dripped through the gaps between the basin hole and the girl's neck, running down her shoulders, her breasts and her back. She screamed and coughed and choked audibly, the ring gag offering no relief. I had begun screaming as soon as the three men appeared.
Dan stroked my head, which did nothing to soothe me. The woman with the microphone looked at me and smiled, and fast-forwarded the video.
Now the woman with the microphone herself appeared in the video, approaching the toilet-girl with a small red box. Her garnet lips were twisted in a maniacal smile, and her black blouse was parting at the breast.
She threw the contents of the red box all over the girl, who then found herself covered in a pile of dirty worms.
A close-up showed the girl squirming, squealing, dirty and terrified, as the worms crawled into her nose and mouth through the ring gag, and dripped, wriggling, down her breasts onto the sybian. I was sobbing at high pitch. Dan had ceased trying to soothe me. When I looked up through my tears, the woman with the microphone was leveling that same maniacal smile right at me.
The transparent toilet, held aloft by diagonal supports, and with the sybian there beneath it, had appeared at her side. In front of me. Real. My crying stopped. Something again had happened to Dan, changing him. He laughed wildly and unleashed his dick, pissing towards the cum bucket, and missing at times, all of which he found deliriously funny. Dan's unhinged laughter, combined with the woman's laughter—which could have originated nu oll xxx story 2019 above me or could have actually been me, in my own head—combined with the sound of Dan's urine hitting and sloshing around the cum bucket, made a truly evil cacophony.
I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I still sometimes hear those evil noises together when I close my eyes at night.
As the video's coup de grace, an incredibly fat, hairy, nude man approached the transparent toilet, with the young girl's unrecognizable, pee-streaked and filthy pigtailed head there in it, the worms squirming all around her. The fat man turned, and began to sit down. The woman with the microphone clicked off the video.
My stocks were unlocked. I scrambled to the cum bucket and shoved my head and face down into it. That old, scratched, plastic bucket held the sperm of over nineteen men, plus spit from those men and Dan's own warm, dark piss. I ate it all feverishly. I was delirious. I ate it with my hands until the leader approached, removing my hands and holding them firmly behind my back. I looked at him, and then he shoved my face back dowm towards the bucket and I turned and ate more.
"Tell your mistress you are property," the leader said. I lifted my face from the bucket. "I am a piece of property," I said loudly. I went back down in the bucket, gobbling eagerly for a few seconds, and came back up.
"A machine. A dick cleaning machine!" My face was covered in cum, spit, and piss. It dripped down me. I smiled at my mistress, and went back into the bucket. "Like a golf ball washer, but for dicks!" I stopped to catch my breath, and the leader started to push my head back down in the bucket, but he didn't need to.
I dove back in. I licked the sides. "Stationary. A post," I said, sperm bubbling from my mouth. I had swallowed so much that it was busty stripteases are licking and riding passioantely every corner of my mouth, in my teeth, coating my tongue and my throat.
"I am a post for cleaning dicks. A post with a hole." The leader shoved me back in. I was wearing out, but I did my darnedest. I ate with my mouth and teeth, like it was solid food, and I sucked it up like it was a gooey shake. I got to the bottom of the bucket and stuck my tongue out wide and licked. When I looked back up it was with pride, and there were tears in my eyes, but they were joyful. "Me and my hole will be bent over a post, and blond milf wants to be a pornstar hole will be there," I said jubilantly, with real joy bursting from me, "for men to use." I went back down and licked the last of the cum and piss from the sides and bottom of the bucket.
I licked til it was spotless, and I licked after there was nothing left. It was my bucket now, and I wanted nothing more than to clean it thoroughly.
"I am a warm, wet hole," I said, the cum dripping thickly down my face, my chest, and my stomach. The woman with the microphone beamed at me. Dan had somehow magically returned to himself, resembling something human again. He helped me to my feet and set me moving. My bucket was placed over my head. I leaned against Dan, breathing in halting, choked breaths under the bucket. I realized I was shaking, and I calmed myself.
A few of the men patted my ass or rapped the bucket as I walked, but most of them had filtered out. The noise of their motorcycles must have been there, though I don't remember it. When we got back to the SUV, Dan took my bucket and he slung it back towards the warehouse, and he opened the passenger-side door for me. But I just looked at him, looking through him, and then went and crawled back into my bin.
Dan understood. This time, he just tied my wrists separately, and kept them in front of me. They were attached to the leash ring on my new dog collar. The head harness was reattached, but without the gag. The black panel he put over my mouth for good keeping. My knees were secured to the sides of the bin, and the head harness was clipped to the other bin-hook. The hitachi was reattached to the metal bar between my legs. God, my vagina was sore. If Dan turned it on, I felt I would die of soreness.
He eyed me, and tried it on a low setting, but turned it back off when I screamed. My earbuds were reinserted, and Dan dropped the mp3 player onto my stomach. Gently, he touched my nipple, where the sperm had begun to dry. I looked up at him. I'm sure I looked a mess. He pulled out his phone, and I was still too dazed to react. First time blood story xnxxx picture he took—with the sperm crusted "SLUT" sticker on my forehead, wet and drying sperm covering me from my head to my chest to my thighs, a head harness in place and a glazed look in my eye—still sits, tucked ebony kandee with white boy large ladies amateur in the darkest recess of my bedside jewelry drawer, so that in crucial moments I can remember what I am and act accordingly.
Dan trailed his fingers through my pubic stubble, petted my matted hair and pressed play on the mp3 player. He moved to shut the lid, then reconsidered. Smiling devilishly, he restarted the horny black girls play with their wet pussies fingering hardcore. I winced, but was readier for it, and toughed it out. The red lid slammed shut, and strong hands hoisted me into the SUV.
Amazingly, the woman in my earbuds spoke new words. "You have the sperm from over nineteen men in your belly. Each of these men now owns you, and has the right to do whatever he wants with you.
You are an owned piece of property." I beamed with inner pride. "A slut. Dan's slut. You will do whatever he says. You will enjoy being his property, and you will use yourself—all of yourself—to please him in any way he sees fit. You are an owned piece of property.
You have the sperm from over nineteen men in your belly&hellip." The hitachi buzzed against my oh-so-sore clit, and I moaned and bucked and hurt oh-so, oh-so good. My mind was totally blank, spent, and I felt in a state of ecstasy for the whole ride home, watching the darkness and light flicker against the ceiling of my red bin.