by Alex Dawson
At this point, Farrah Joy was trembling with fear. She'd kept them from really hurting her so far, but it seemed that her luck was finally going to run out. Fucking her and pouring beer all over her was miserable and disgusting, but it didn't hurt and it wasn't permanent, she knew that a shower and a few days of rest would fix the damage and she'd expected to be allowed to turn on the showerhead here and get clean pretty quickly.
It sounded like, once this guy was done with her, the other badass biker gang member was going to do something that would really hurt her, maybe even leave bruises.
The naked biker gang member that she was straddling turned and looked at where the other guys were apparently still watching.
"I want her spread-eagled on the tile, will you all hold her for me?" he asked.
Farrah Joy only had a few seconds to tense up and shake before she was on her back on the tile floor. Someone had cradled her head, so it didn't hit the hard surface and truly injure her, but it was a small mercy when there was a strong young man sitting on or holding down each of her legs and arms, totally trapping her and leaving her spread wide and unable to protect her body.
"Someone put something under her head," the guy who seemed to be in charge for a while said.
She felt her head jerked up roughly by the hair and a bundle of cloth was put down underneath her, cradling her skull to protect it from the concrete floor and keeping her neck propped up an inch or two, so she had to look down her body and see what was happening to her.
The girl shut her eyes and immediately got slapped across the face.
She screwed them tighter shut and gasped in pain and surprise.
"I want you to watch," she heard him say, and before she could get slapped again, she opened her eyes and stared in fear at the man kneeling between her legs.
He was naked and hard, his thick cock bobbing threateningly close to her sore pussy.
"My name is Stewart, but you can call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’" he said, "I'd hate to think we weren't properly introduced, O Babe."
He gave her a mocking little bow that let his cock make contact with her clit. She trembled at the touch to her little nub of pleasure, even now, covered in beer and frightened of what the angry member was going to do to her nipples.
"Oh, pretty Queen, do you like having your slutty little clit touched?" he asked, continuing to mock her.
She shook her head, hardly daring to blink in case he slapped her again.
He raised his eyebrows.
"Clearly, you have not been trained, slutty Queen. If I ask you a question, or if any of my fine members ask you a question, unless your mouth is full you are to answer out loud and call us by an appropriate honorific. I told you, you may call me, or any of us, 'Sir' or 'Master,'" he said.
He leaned over her, putting his face nearer hers, not seeming to mind the rank smell of alcohol and sweat and cum that rose from her hair and body.
"If you fuck that up again, I'm going to slap you hard enough to bust your lip open. Do you want to suck cock with a busted lip for the rest of the weekend?" he asked.
She shook her head and then hastily opened her mouth.
"No, sir," she said quickly, "I don't want that at all. I'm sorry for the delay, sir."
He sat back up and raised his hand, ready to strike her across the face again. She flinched and started to cry.
"Please don't hit me," she said. It didn't even occur to her to use one of her vetos, she had forgotten that they existed. All that mattered was convincing this guy that she didn't need to be punished.
"Eh, Stew, she's trying, let it go," she heard a familiar voice say. It was Jan, the guy who had explained the rules of the weekend to her.
Stewart shrugged.
"Fair enough," he said, "I don't really want her to bleed on my dick when she sucks it."
Farrah Joy watched and tried to hold still and not struggle as Stewart rubbed his cock between her legs. She didn't know what he wanted from her, but she knew it would be unpleasant. She'd figured out that this guy really wanted to make sure she didn't enjoy what he did to her. He wanted to be in total control, and she didn't want to give him another opportunity to punish her.
What really frightened her was that it was starting to turn her on.
Her body was responding to the hot cock running over her clit again and again, she moaned and arched towards him.
"Good girl," he murmured.
She should have known that he was going to do something totally miserable.
Apparently done with the niceties, he found her entrance and thrust inside her mostly-dry pussy. He struggled to force himself inside her, her tender walls were dry and her body did not want to be breached. He was stubborn, though, and he managed to get himself all the way inside her with short, powerful strokes.
He leaned over her and kissed her mouth, hard, shoving her head against the wadded cloth that protected her from the floor.
He pulled away.
"You taste like beer," he said, and laughed.
She blushed in shame.
He pulled a few inches out and slammed home again, holding still and forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Where is my cock?" he asked.
"Inside me, sir," she said, totally defeated.
“This,” he said, shoving his cock inside her in an extra-brutal thrust, “Is your pussy. That’s what you should be calling it.”
Farrah Joy nodded.
"So, where does that put my cock?" he demanded, "I want to hear you say it."
"Your cock is inside my pussy, sir," she said. She'd never been more humiliated in her life. Another tear dropped from her eye and traced a salty path down her filthy cheek.
“That’s right,” he said, “My cock is inside your filthy pussy. I’m fucking you deep inside your tight channel.”
Farrah Joy shivered and whimpered.
“Sir?” she asked.
“Yes, Babe?”
“May I please shut my eyes?” she asked. They hurt, and she hated watching the men hold her down, and she hated watching Stewart’s fat cock fucking her. She just wanted to close her eyes and pretend it wasn’t happening, pretend that it wasn’t becoming more natural with every minute to call him ‘Sir,’ pretend she wasn’t getting wet from the rough fucking.
“No, slut,” he grunted, and she flinched. She had to keep her eyes open. When she tried to look away, someone would slap her breast or tweak her nipple. She had to watch his cock slide in and out of her sore pussy.
Soon enough, he was grunting and pulling her off of his cock.
“Shut your eyes and open your mouth,” he ordered as he pulled out, and she obeyed.
“Just to be clear,” he continued, “If you shut your mouth I will slap you as hard as I promised earlier, and then I will tie you down and take my belt and beat every inch of you with it, and then my friend here will punish you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, and opened her mouth as wide as it could go. She believed him, and she believed that no one would stop him.
She braced herself, expecting him to straddle her chest and put his filthy, come-streaked, beer-soaked cock in her mouth. Waiting for it for endless quiet seconds, she started to cry again.
She was expecting the thick jet of warm cum that filled her mouth. She gagged at the taste, but managed, through sheer force of will, to hold her jaw open and take it. It was somehow worse to have the cum land on her tongue than it was to have the cum shot down her throat, like the men had earlier.
“You just need to hold it another two seconds and then you can spit it out,” Stewart said.
Farrah Joy struggled to obey. She held the slimy fluid in her mouth for two full seconds, and felt it trickle down her throat, before turning her head and spitting it all out.
“Good girl,” Stewart said, and handed her a glass of water. She drank it down greedily and wiped her mouth, trying to rid herself of the taste of Stewart’s cum and the beer and booze she’d been fed.
&nbs
p; He tilted her face up and met her eyes.
“It’s time for your punishment now, Queen,” he said calmly, and her throat constricted with fear.
Could she take any more of this foul treatment?
Farrah Joy allowed herself to be hauled onto her feet in shower area without protesting. There was no point to it.
"Hose her off," her next tormenter said, "I don't want to touch her when she's this filthy."
She thought that she should be embarrassed by that, but she had reached a point where she was so tired, so used to being frightened, and so hopeless that she was completely numb.
A small part of her reflected that she might be better off numb. Not because she was about to get punished in some probably-horrible way, but because she knew that she could stop this at any time, and the shame of allowing herself to be debased like this was too much to handle.
She held still and allowed herself to be rinsed off roughly under tepid water. The men who bathed her took the opportunity to grope and pinch and feel her everywhere private and tender on her sore body.
Soon, she was clean enough for their tastes and she was pulled unprotesting into the main room, where the strange furniture she'd seen earlier was apparently kept.
Farrah Joy was led over to a table and pushed down onto it, on her back, and bound to the legs. She was totally spread open, her pussy and ass within easy reach between her thighs, her breasts on display, her head tilted back in a way she knew from recent experience would allow the men to fuck her mouth whenever they chose.
Suddenly everything was still; Farrah Joy heard the boys retreat to the other end of the room. She tried twisting around to follow their progress, but was too tightly bound to allow enough movement. Farrah Joy shivered, wishing they’d bothered to towel her off; she wondered if she could actually sleep in this position, and guessed she might find out.
She let her mind wander, imagining she was somewhere else, that this was all over, when abruptly there were very determined footsteps headed in her direction. Again she strained to see and was abruptly prevented by a thick blindfold being expertly, but gently tied over her eyes.
She made a questioning noise, but her only response was the sound of more footsteps and movement around her. How many were there? Had they all come back down? Farrah Joy squirmed again.
She heard a jeer.
“You’ll be squirming more soon!” she heard a voice say.
She froze, embarrassment causing her face to flush bright red, hoping they wouldn’t notice.
“Oh look at that” another voice taunted “The little whore is blushing, looks like we haven’t fucked the virgin out of her yet, my friends!”
Several pairs of hands resumed roughly groping her all over, anywhere they could reach; one pair roughly squeezing and kneading her ass cheeks while another’s fingers shoved their way into her sore pussy. Farrah Joy heard a clatter as something was dumped on the floor near her and more hands began to grope her tits, squeezing her nipples. Before she was halfway through voicing a sound of protest she felt a painful clamping sensation on first one, then the other nipple.
This wasn’t a careful and expert application of minor nipple clamps, or a little squeezing and pinching, like Farrah Joy had seen in porn. Whoever did this to her just hastily shoved the clamps hard against her aching nipples and let the jaws snap closed on whatever bit of flesh they grabbed. She shrieked and, behind the blindfold, saw stars of pain against the darkness. No one had ever done such a thing to this virginal college slut before.
Before the teenage girl had a chance to get used to the intense pain radiating from her nipples, she felt a cock slide roughly up and down her slit, gathering the wetness that she hadn’t even realized was forming there before the dick found her entrance and slammed inside her, setting up a tortuous rhythm in her sore tight channel.
His hands never left her breasts, pulling, twisting, or slapping the cruel clamps and her flesh. It was even worse than having cold beer sprayed on her or getting fucked dry by a cruel man, and she started to cry under her blindfold, the tears slipping out and running down her cheeks.
This was yet another thing that she had to simply hold still and take. She was learning how to do it, how to try to ignore what was happening to her body and just cope, but she was still struggling immensely, and this hard fucking with stabs of shooting pain from her tender young breasts was just too much for her.
Every time she thought that she could bear it, every time that she thought she could accept what was happening to her, something would change - the guy fucking her would slap her entire breast, or give a hard yank to whatever was biting awfully into one nipple, or stop fucking her for an unpredictable amount of time before slamming his cock all the way home again.
Once, he even leaned forward over her, crushing her breasts between their bodies, and whispered into her ear - “Farrah Joy, you know what you did wrong, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“You never fuck with a member of the Devil’s Cowboys. The Devil’s Cowboys fuck with you,” he said.
Obviously, he wanted to be sure that her attention couldn’t wander away from her punishment, and it was working. She was totally focused on her punishment.
She knew that, for the rest of the weekend, she had to avoid causing offense to any of the men who had permission to use her body. No more turning away or trying to hide herself, this was the last assault to her free will and shame.
Farrah Joy knew that she simply had to cope with whatever the men threw at her.
“God, she looks hot enough to make me nut,” she heard someone jeer, “I love seeing pretty girls crying and getting fucked.”
The man fucking her said “Go for it, use her any way you can reach,” and Farrah Joy knew that she’d have a crowd around her.
She opened her mouth, expecting to have it stuffed with hard cock immediately, but when nothing happened, she started to close it again.
Immediately, there was a sharp blow on her breast.
“Keep it open,” someone grunted, and she obeyed, holding her mouth open and waiting for whatever would come.
The guy thrusting away inside her took his hands off her breasts and grabbed her hips, yanking her onto his cock over and over again with the small amount of slack in the ropes.
It only took a dozen shallow thrusts for him to fill her with his hot come. She could feel it dripping out of her as he pulled out. It was rapidly cooling and slipping down her asscrack, but she did not allow herself to squirm or flinch.
“I think you should thank me for coming in you,” she heard him say.
“Th.. thank you,” she said, and quickly added “Sir! Thank you, sir, for coming in me.”
“You’re such a good little slut. You’re not trained at all now, but you’re learning, and you’re clearly naturally slutty. Are you proud of being a natural cockwhore?” he asked.
“No, sir,” she said quietly.
“Shame,” he said, and laughed. At that, she flinched a little, but no punishment came.
“All right,” he said, more loudly, “Untie her!”
She felt herself being untied and then dragged off the table and onto the floor, and then she was picked up and carried to another part of the room.
When she was deposited on the floor, she was instructed to kneel, and did so as quickly as possible, even though she was bound and disoriented.
Her arms were pulled above her head and she felt her wrists being tightly bound together and secured above her head, and then she was pulled upwards, so that she was barely kneeling on the floor and stretched upwards. Her ankles were locked into cold metal cuffs that kept her from moving them in any direction.
“Do you like that spreader bar?” she heard an unfamiliar voice ask.
“Nooo, sir,” she said. She was afraid of getting punished for saying no twice in a row, but apparently they didn’t mind her honesty, she heard a lot of laughter.
“Do you think we care?” the voice went on.
> “No, sir!” she said. She was definite about that one.
“Do you think we should care?”
That one was trickier.
“No, sir, I agreed to this,” she said finally.
“Oh, what a good girl you are,” he said, “That’s right. You signed away your body to us to use however we want. If I wanted to stick my cock up your virgin ass with no lube, I could do it, and you couldn’t say boo.”
“Please don’t, sir,” Farrah Joy whimpered.