“Listen,” she said, her voice rough “my family has a lot of money—”
“Save it,” he said. “Does it look like we need your money here, bitch? Boss man own oil fields in Iraq. Well, not owns them, but runs them. God bless 9/11.”
Tiffany closed her mouth. Barry tried to apply make up to her face, but she kept turning away from him. He grabbed her under the chin and forced her head to hold still, but Tiffany yanked away and sank her teeth into his thumb.
“Ow!” he said. Barry slapped her hard across the cheek, and Tiffany couldn't help but laugh. It was the least painful thing that had been done to her all morning.
“Think it's funny?” Barry said, pulling her hair roughly. “What's your fucking problem? Don't you care what happens to you?”
Barry turned toward Roberta and an evil light came into his brown eyes.
“Maybe,” he began “you don't care what happens to you, but maybe you'll care what happens to your girlfriend the nun.”
Barry grabbed a heavy vase off the makeup table and kicked Roberta to the floor. He held it over his head and glared down at Tiffany.
“Listen bitch,” he said “and listen good. This tasty little spic is gravy; We didn't need to abduct her it just ended up being convenient. Therefore, I won't get into too much trouble if I bash her fucking brains in with this vase. Is that what you want?”
“You think I care?” Tiffany said in a huff.
“Yeah, I kinda do,” said Barry. “But if you insist—”
“Wait!” Tiffany said as he raised the vase up for a deadly blow. “Wait, okay? Fucking wait. I'll...I'll hold still for you, just don't hurt her.”
Barry laughed and set the vase down. Roberta sobbed in relief.
“That's better,” he said, stroking Tiffany's hair. “And here I thought you didn't give a shit about anyone but yourself.”
Tiffany endured the makeup session as best she could. What really irked her, besides being painted up like a doll, was the sluttish way Barry did her up. Only Jersey shore trash would use such heavy applications, and he gave her little girl pigtails that were not the least bit fashionable like the ones she put in her own hair the morning she was kidnapped.
“Open wide,” he said, approaching her with a red rubber ball gag. “Don't want to smudge your lipstick.”
“I hate you,” Tiffany said, seething. One glance at Roberta told her the price of disobedience, so she did open her mouth.
“There we go,” said Barry cheerfully, buckling the ball tightly between her teeth. Tiffany groaned, but miserable as the ball gag was at least it wasn't shoved halfway down her throat like the phallus shaped one had been.
Roberta's make up session went without incident, though the nun kept crying and making her mascara run. Barry grew frustrated and pinched her big puffy brown nipples hard.
“Stop crying,” he said harshly. “For fuck's sake, it's not that bad. Just pretend you're in a spa or something.”
“What happened to you,” asked Roberta “that made you such a cruel man? If you take Jesus into your heart, you'll be much less miserable.”
“I'm NOT miserable,” said Barry, sneering. “I love my life, thank you very much. I think you don't get to talk anymore, sister.”
Roberta opened her mouth and allowed Barry to gag her. Tiffany stared down at her saddle shoes and sighed. She appeared as a sluttish caricature of a catholic schoolgirl, like a stripper ready to dance on a pole for pocket change.
The leashes were replaced on their necks and Barry led them out of the wardrobe room. They went down the hall and up a flight of stairs Tiffany hadn't seen before. At the top of the ornate wooden staircase were a row of doors, all with red light bulbs lit outside.
“Damn, which one are they filming in today?” he muttered to himself. He fished a cell phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen to life. Tiffany felt nervous sweat break out on her body. If she could get her hands on that phone, she could call for help…
Her wrists tugged at the hemp rope binding them, and she realized bitterly that her hands were likely to be unavailable for some time.
Barry found the room he was looking for, the third door from the left. He swung it open and dragged the two girls inside.
Tiffany rolled her eyes. The room was set up like a high school class, with rows of desks facing a chalkboard and podium. Someone had written SEX ED on the board in large letters.
Both girls were shoved into a desk and their ankles were bound to the chair legs. Barry removed their collars and massaged their sweaty throats.
“These don't go with your uniforms,” he said, tossing them aside. “But don't worry, I've got something for you...”
Barry looped twine around Tiffany's neck, nearly choking her. Then he secured the free end to the back of her chair, forcing her head back. If she struggled too much, she would choke.
Barry did the same to Roberta. Tiffany had to peer out of the corner of her eye since she couldn't move her head.
Then he dropped a standardized bubble test form on both of their desks and a sharpened number two pencil atop it. The door to the 'classroom' swung open and three Latino camera men bustled in and set up their devices.
“Where's the director?” Barry asked.
“He's running late,” said one of the camera men. “Something about sticking his dick up the ass of that sweet Asian girl he likes so much.”
“Ichi?” asked Barry with a raised eyebrow.
“Nah, the other one, the Chinese one.”
“Is she the one with the massive fake titties?” Barry asked.
“Yeah. Think she's up to a size F. Boss man wants to get her to a G eventually, and maybe beyond.”
Barry laughed.
“She already looks ridiculous with those massive knockers,” he said. “But boss man likes to customize his toys, doesn't he?”
Both men engaged in raucous mirth. Tiffany squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to weep. It was so awful, and it never ended. Nonstop pain, restraint, and sexual humiliation appeared to be the order of her life.
“I think we'll just get started,” Barry said, walking around behind the podium and adjusting his tie. “Roll cameras!”
“Rolling!” said one of the camera men.
“Ahem,” said Barry. His face twisted into various contortions. “Lion face-lemonface-lion face-lemon face! Okay, I'm ready!”
Barry stared at the two girls sternly.
“Well,” he said “you two girls have been very naughty to end up in detention.”
The sign on the wall says Sex Ed, Tiffany thought bitterly. They weren't even GOOD pornographers, her kidnappers.
Barry strutted over to Tiffany's side and suddenly dropped to a crouch next to her. His grip was like Iron as he squeezed her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt. Tiffany glared at him, but couldn't even struggle; The slightest movement constricted her throat and made it impossible to breathe.
“Dirty slut,” he said, running his hand up her thigh. When he reached the border of her skirt his hand disappeared underneath it, and he looked her right in the eyes and arched his brows.
“Almost to the pussy,” he teased, and Tiffany tried to will her orifice to stop leaking. Apparently her body wasn't under her own control, because her cooze quivered with anticipation as his fingers drew nearer and nearer.
“That's it,” Barry purred as he stroked her clit with an expert hand. “Your eyes hate me so much, but your little pussy just LOVES me.”
Roberta grunted and struggled a bit, until she choked from the rope around her throat. Barry sneered at her.
“Don't worry, baby, it'll be your turn soon,” he said. He turned back to Tiffany and grinned.
“I think we'll take this out for a moment,” he said, fingering her ball gag. “I have something far more...practical.”
Barry moved to the teacher's desk and opened the top drawer. He withdrew what looked like surgical steel clamps and walked back to Tiffany's side. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of
the device, which seemed similar to the speculum her gynecologist used to pry her pussy lips open.
“Here we go,” he said, removing her ball gag. Tiffany didn't even get a decent breath before Barry clamped a hand over her lips. “Don't talk, baby. You've got nothing we want to hear.”
Barry released her and Tiffany said “FUCK YOU.”
“Okay,” Barry said with a shrug. Grinning evilly., he shoved the steel spring lock into her mouth. Tiffany resisted stubbornly, but the outcome was never in doubt. With a sickening ratchet sound, her jaws were pried widely open.
“Good,” he said, clicking the gag in place. Tiffany shook her head as much as the choking rope around her throat allowed, but it was obvious she could not dislodge the device from her mouth.
Barry snagged the top of her shirt and ripped it open with one swipe. Her breasts danced a moment after being freed, and he groped them painfully. Tiffany's eyes rolled back into her head as he squeezed her nipples harder than ever before.
“Don't like this, baby?” he asked, still squeezing her nipples. Tiffany tried to curse at him but only drooled over her naked breasts. “That's okay, I have something better!”
Barry reached down and unzipped his fly. His large cock sprang out, smacking her in the face. Tiffany's gurgling took on a new urgency as Barry grabbed her behind the head and shoved his dick in her wide open mouth.
“Over the lips, past the tongue, look out baby here comes cum!”
Tiffany gagged as his cock slammed into the back of her throat. Barry stepped over and straddled the desk she was bound to to pound her mouth all the better. Her choking, sobbing sounds took on a kind of rhythm as Barry shoved his cock in and out, in and out.
“Oh yeah,” he said, sweat beading on his brow. “This is the shit! Once you jam it in far enough the gag reflex takes over and the bitch can't help but milk you like a heroin whore!”
Tiffany nearly retched as he filled up her mouth and throat with his spunk. There was nothing she could to to prevent it dripping down her gullet and into her stomach. Barry wiped his wet member on her face, much to her chagrin.
“Your turn,” he said, turning to Roberta. The Latina cringed as he approached fingered her gag. “You look like the kind of slut who knows her place, am I right? I mean, spending all that time on your knees in church must be good for something...”
Barry pulled her gag out of her mouth and let it dangle against her throat. Roberta turned pleading eyes toward her captor and then glanced at Tiffany's plight.
“Please,” she said “take that thing out of her mouth. I'll...I'll be a good cock slave if you do.”
Barry threw his head back and laughed.
“You're really such a goody goody,” he said with a sneer. “I think I'll leave her jaws pried open like that. I like making dumb bitches miserable. It turns me on. See?”
He smacked Roberta in the face with his cock, and she sobbed in dismay.
“It's already hard again,” he said. “Now, take it in your mouth and suck me dry, or I'll shove a metal rod up your friend's ass and plug it into the wall.”
Tiffany turned her face away as Roberta went to work on Barry's cock. Her captor's angry voice reached her ears.
“Uh-uh,” he said, grabbing Tiffany's pigtail and forcing her to face the disgusting scene. “Open your eyes and take notes, slut. THIS is what a world class cock sucker is like!”
Roberta licked Barry's shaft up and down, plying her mouth like a lamprey eel. Occasionally she'd glance over at Tiffany with an apologetic look before going back to work on his member.
“Choke yourself,” said Barry harshly.
Roberta pulled away from the desk, causing the rope around her neck to constrict her until she gagged.
“Not like that, dumb spic,” he said angrily. “Choke yourself on my cock! Fit it all the way in your mouth.”
Roberta did so, until her lips were scant inches from touching his balls.
“Deeper,” Barry said. Roberta obeyed. “Deeper!”
Roberta's lips were now flush with his sack, and her eyes were rolling back into her head. Her hands opened and closed uselessly behind her back and Barry came loudly.
“Fuck yeah!” he said, releasing his jizz into Roberta's mouth in such a flood it spooged out the side of her mouth. “Keep on my cock, you religious cunt. I want you to drink every last drop.”
Roberta obeyed, tears welling out of her eyes. Barry finally pulled himself out of her and slapped her hard on the face.
“Too much teeth, cunt,” he growled. “I'll have to give you a c minus in blow jobs.”
Tiffany shuddered as he caressed her arm. There was something about the subtlety of the gesture, when so much of her body was exposed, like a promise of worse things to come.
“Relax, cunt,” he said, untying her legs from the chair she sat in. “I'm not gonna do a thing to you...yet. Get up!”
He dragged Tiffany. to her feet, or tried to. The rope around her neck drew taught and she was dragged, choking, back to her seat.
“Whoops,” he said, chuckling. “Forgot about that. Here we go.”
He untied the rope around her neck and Tiffany was almost grateful for the end to her suffocation.
“On your knees,” he said, harshly. “FUCKING NOW!”
Tiffany refused to obey, so he kicked her in the back of the knee. She went down hard, her knee striking the floor with a bruising impact. Barry dragged her around until she was under Roberta's desk.
“Get your face in her snatch,” Barry said. Tiffany tried to resist, but it was pointless with her arms bound helplessly behind her. Soon her nose, then her wide open mouth was thrust against Roberta's oozing sex hole.
“Lick her clit, bitch,” Barry said. Tiffany shook her head and he laughed. “Oh, I think you will bitch. We've already established that I can do whatever I want to this fucking spic nun. Maybe I should tie a plastic bag on her head and see how long you resist.”
“Uh-uh,” Tiffany said amid a flood of drool. She wished she could apologize to Roberta, but of course she could not speak. With reluctance, she shoved her tongue out of her mouth and lightly flicked it across Roberta's oversized clit. The Latina gasped, her thighs shivering against Tiffany's shoulders.
“Good,” Barry said, petting Tiffany's head as if she were a dog. “Good slut. Now you have three minutes to make this bitch cum, or I'll whip both your tits red. And you.”
He snagged Roberta's hair and loomed close to her face.
“If you fake your orgasm, I'll throw you out the fucking window. Without opening it first. Comprende?”
Roberta nodded. Barry shoved her ball gag back into place and buckled it a bit tighter for good measure.
“There we go,” Barry said. “All right Ms. Winters, the clock's ticking. Make this dirty slut cum like a whore. I want to hear her SCREAM.”
Tiffany licked Roberta's clit, tears of shame pouring out of her eyes. It was terrible, being filmed like this. What if she did manage to escape—somehow—and this video still made it onto the internet? It would be there forever, and millions if not a billion people could whack off to her being humiliated and raped….
Ironically, she felt that the gag in her mouth prevented a better clit sucking job; If she'd been able to use her lips, she could have made the Latina cum in seconds. Unfortunately, Roberta hadn't cum when Barry called time. She was breathing heavily and covered in sweat, but she hadn't cum.
“Time's up,” Barry said, dragging Tiffany to her feet. He attached a chain to her bound wrists and yanked them high up into the air behind her. She felt as if they would be torn from their sockets if he moved the chain even an inch higher.
Roberta met a similar fate, and the two of them stared miserably at one another. Barry walked over to the teacher's desk and took out one of the many bladed whips Tiffany was already starting to hate. He ripped what was left of Tiffany's shirt off and similarly disrobed Roberta. For good measure, he yanked their skirts down around their ankles, and the sudden expos
ure was just another indignity that Tiffany had to bear.
“All right, sluts,” he said, brandishing the whip. “We'll start off slow and build up.”
The sudden, savage snarl on his face belied his words. The first blow that slapped into Tiffany's generous pink bosom felt like firecrackers going off against her skin. Barry struck her again, and again, never quite hitting the same place twice. Red stripes appeared on her skin, and she screamed loudly out of her wide open mouth.
“Just in case you think I forgot about you,” Barry said, turning his attentions to Roberta. The Latina squeezed her eyes shut as tears poured down her face. Every crack of the whip made her whimper, and Tiffany squeezed her hands into fists high above her head. If she could, she would have killed Barry right then and there.
If she could.
Once both girls had reddened tits, he moved to their asses. Tiffany jerked and strained at the end of her chain but could not escape the agonizing lashes. Barry would pause in his ministrations and rake his nails over her tortured buttocks, enjoying the sound of her squeals, before launching into another flurry of blows.
Roberta didn't make out any easier, and Tiffany hated herself for the way she was grateful it was Roberta being punished and not herself, at least for awhile.
Barry wiped sweat off his brow and loosened his tie. He put the whip down and drank a full glass of water, which reminded Tiffany of how dry her own throat was.
“Thirsty, baby?” he asked when he noticed her interest. “Want some water?”
Tiffany nodded, hating herself. Would she be forced to beg for even the simplest things needed to sustain her life, like air and water?
“Okay,” said Barry, taking another swig himself. He approached Tiffany, knelt down, held the glass toward her mouth—
—and violently spat out the water he'd held in his mouth. It dripped all over her eyes and nose, but precious little made it down her throat.
“Aren't you going to thank me?” he asked, chuckling. Tiffany glared at him and he sneered.
“Haven't we learned anything?” he asked. Reaching out with one hand, he grabbed Roberta around the throat and squeezed until her breathing came in ragged gasps. “Thank me or I'll choke her to death.”
Kidnapped Debutante in Bondage Hell Page 6