Fall from Grace

by Syra Bond

  He told some others to take me out.

  ‘Her presence offends the Lord,’ he said. ‘Do with her as you will. She is a servant of Satan and deserves only our scorn.’

  I felt wretched. Their contempt overwhelmed me. I lost all sense of dignity. I felt I could do nothing except let them do with me as they would. I had no reason to resist, no desire for anything but their will and their contempt.

  Three men dragged me through the shop. Customers stared at me - bearded men lowering their black domed hats, women clasping their hands together in front of their long blue, apron covered skirts. The reddened cheeks of the women stood out against their white, tight-fitting bonnets. They all shook their heads and looked down at the ground as though the very sight of me was too much to bear.

  The men took me out into a yard at the rear. Small black horse-drawn carts were parked in a neat row. The reins of the horses, shackled in their shiny wooden shafts, were wrapped around a long hitching post. Even the horses seemed to turn away from me as I was pulled past on my back, naked except for my panties wound up like a rag around my ankles.

  They threw me down in the back of a cart. The horse in the shafts whinnied and the cart shook as the frightened animal clattered its hooves nervously. The men looked down at me as I lay sobbing and distraught, contemptible and humiliated. The cart rocked as each one clambered up in turn.

  The first stripped my panties down over my feet and tied them across my mouth. He pulled them so tight that my teeth closed together in front of it. He held his stiff cock tightly in his hand. I watched the end swelling with ever-increasing pressure as his mouth hung slackly and spit dribbled down into his long beard. He sprayed his semen over my eyes and into my hair, then dropped down onto his knees and squeezed out the last drops against my flaring nostrils. The second held a riding crop across my aching nipples as he spurted his semen on the insides of my thighs. It ran down against the soft open flesh of my cunt and mixed with the old man’s semen that was still flowing from my anus. The last one turned me over on my face and thrashed me across the buttocks with a short leather belt. He told me how sinful I was, how I was beyond redemption, and how there was nothing that would help me except the pain of punishment.

  ‘And I will deliver the pain of God’s vengeance to your evil body,’ he ranted. ‘I will flail your flesh until you beg forgiveness! It will feel like the lapping flames of hell around your sinful flesh!’

  I rose up against the slashing leather and, as the cutting blows increased in strength and pace and, as a massive surge of blinding joy overtook me, I found myself yelling out uncontrollably.

  ‘I am such a sinner! Forgive me! Lord! Please, Lord, forgive me my sins!’

  I screeched out so loud I was aware of nothing else. It was unstoppable. I couldn’t prevent myself yelping and screaming.

  ‘Lord, forgive me! Lord, forgive me!’

  The leather cut across my burning buttocks. They were on fire, and I only wanted more.

  ‘Please, oh, Lord! Please! Help me find redemption!’ I cried.

  Tears ran from my wide staring eyes, spit dribbled from my gaping mouth. I just needed more. Even though it was too much, it was not enough.

  The man threw down the belt and spat on me. I gasped and panted. I felt like an animal. I dropped my chin towards my chest and flared my nostrils. He stepped back and looked at his creation - a wanton animal whose limits and restraints had been completely destroyed. It was as though he had released everything evil inside me that was desperate to get out.

  I jumped up and ran out into the open yard. I ducked down and grabbed a handful of mud. I smeared it across my breasts. It felt sticky and cold. I rubbed it around my hard nipples. I scooped up more and plastered it across my thighs. I turned and looked around - dozens of Amish were gathered in a gawping crowd. I bent down and started slurping at the mud and buried my face in it. I ate it. I swallowed it ravenously. I rolled in some more. I opened my legs and showed my naked cunt to everyone. I wanted to be completely shamed. I wanted them to urinate on me. I wanted to be dirtied. I wanted to be disgraced and shamed. I wanted to be buried in humiliating sinfulness.

  In the end, I dropped back exhausted. No one spoke. Everyone slowly shuffled away. I felt the heat of my cunt. It spread into my whole body. I was on fire with it. Suddenly it exploded. Like a bursting star in my mind, my joy ignited me from within. I was filled with it. I jerked. I went rigid. I was completely overtaken. My body went stiff. I tried to cry out but could not. Then as suddenly as it had come, it released in me a massive surging orgasm, and I fell back to the muddy ground, utterly depleted.

  I lay on the ground and realised that I still wanted more. I wanted to be shackled in place of one of the horses. I wanted to be driven cruelly from field to field, pulling the heavy cart, carrying out only my master’s wishes. I wanted to be fed from a bag and made to drink from dirty ponds. I wanted to be thrashed on my buttocks when I failed to keep the proper pace. I wanted to be pulled harshly by the bit between my teeth if I was too slow. I wanted to be left in the shafts overnight so that, even before the dawn, tired and exhausted, I was ready again to do my master’s bidding.

  A few men lifted me up and flung me into the back of a cart. I lay there, semen dripping from my face and between my legs as I shivered again and again with the gradually ebbing jerks of my delightful and repeated orgasms. One of them threw my clothes down on top of me as they walked back into the store. A child ran up and threw some clods of mud at me. They stuck to my still jerking body. I felt completely disgusting.

  The cart was driven out of the town and I was thrown down into a water-filled ditch. They ordered me to wash myself and watched until I had finished. They told me they never wanted to see my face again and drove off.

  I lay in the ditch trembling with fear until it was dark. In the end, I plucked up enough courage to creep back into the town. I found the pick-up still parked in front of Lehman’s. The keys were still in it. It had been daubed with graffiti. I felt eyes on me as I drove away, filled with the deepest sense of shame and yet, at the same time, uncontrollably excited by my humiliation.

  I was worn out by the time I finally drove into Cleveland. My experiences with the Amish still filled my mind. I ached with the thought of the humiliation they had showered on me. The sense of shame I had felt at their hands had infected me with a desire for more even. I knew now that my own salvation - if it was ever possible - would ultimately only come hand in hand with my complete submission to degradation and disgrace. I knew that I craved only more shame, more ill-treatment, and that I would not even be able to go on until at least some of that need had been satisfied.

  I booked into the first place I saw - ‘Frankie’s Downtown Motel’. I slept all afternoon, naked on top of the small soft bed. When I woke I was hungry. I was told there was a good place to eat near the main university square. I quickly got lost and found myself walking around the near deserted streets. I walked onto the corner of Lorain and West 53rd and the whole scene changed. Suddenly I was confronted by the smell of beer and sweat, by clusters of people huddled in dark corners, and by brightly dressed women bending to the open windows of cars cruising on side lights. I had walked straight into the red light district.

  I got talking to a young girl, Rosalind. She had been a prostitute for a year and was, she said, ‘quite experienced compared to some’.

  She was waiting for one of her regulars and, she said, if I wanted I could join her. He was a good looking man of about thirty five, she said, a Russian, she thought, and, importantly, with plenty of cash to spare. A few minutes later, he drew up in a chauffeur driven black Mercedes. Rosalind said he was going to have to pay a fair bit extra for both of us - even if I was new at the game - but, she promised him, it would be well worth it. He smiled and invited us both to get into the cavernous leather covered interior of the limousine.

  It started
straightaway. To begin with, I watched. Rosalind knelt on the floor of the limo and unzipped the young man’s trousers. He had a big cock - thick and venous with a swollen heavy glans. She took it into her mouth slowly, dribbling her spit around the head then turning her mouth sideways to it and licking its length to ensure its wetness.

  He turned to me and stared.

  ‘We’ll stop somewhere and see if you can cut it as a whore,’ he said, casually.

  Rosalind looked at me and raised her eyebrows. I could already feel the heat of my cunt.

  We came to a busy truck stop on the I89. He opened the door of the limousine and pushed me out.

  ‘Go on, bitch. Let’s see some action.’

  He motioned me away with his hand as the rear window slowly slid up.

  The place was full of truck drivers and bikers. Some women dressed in black leather played pool. I got into conversation with some men at the rowdy bar. They kept buying me drinks - ‘Another Bud for the lady,’ the fattest one, who seemed to have more money than the others, kept saying as soon as my glass was half empty. I soon felt really drunk - I could hear my slurred words, and when I moved, things moved in the opposite direction. They were all hands, every one of them grabbing at me whenever they got a chance. They talked about what a woman would or would not do for money. It was great fun. I said I would suck any cock for $20, and fuck for $80. I didn’t charge extra for anal, I said, because I liked it too much, but if they wanted to whip me that would cost them $100 - ‘just for the pain’.

  I felt like a slut, offering myself to these smelly, fat, bikers and truck drivers. And the sense of disgust that came over me as I realised this excited me as much as anything could. Yes, it was the revulsion I felt for my own degradation that brewed up a fire of excitement inside me. It was irresistible. I got up on a table and started dancing. It was incredible to have all their eyes fixed on my every movement. Slowly, I removed my T shirt. They all cheered and shouted loudly. Some of them threw the contents of their glasses at me. The hoppy beer ran over my breasts and dripped from my nipples. I squirmed against it. I felt as though I was being showered with urine. It was delectable.

  ‘And you can pee over me for $50!’ I shouted out to them.

  I wriggled my jeans down onto my hips. My panties were twisted up in the material and they tugged at the flesh of my cunt. I squirmed on it - feeling it pulling apart the swollen edges of my slit, exposing the wet crack at its centre, drawing out its passion only thrilled me more. I pulled against it to increase the tension. It hurt. I pulled against it more. I gulped and felt spit running out between my lips.

  I dropped my jeans to the floor and stepped out of them. My panties had pulled down to my knees before disentangling themselves from my jeans. I left them there.

  I raised my hands in the air and breathed in deeply.

  ‘But the first one’s free! Anything you like!’

  I felt completely abandoned to whatever was going to happen - nothing was restraining me.

  Several men reached up and lifted me down from the table. I fell backwards into their dirty grasping hands. They held my breasts, pinched my nipples and probed their fingers between my buttocks and into the flesh of my cunt. It all felt delightful! The more they handled me, the more they pinched and poked, the more I smelled their greasy hands and beer-scented breath, the more I was consumed by the delights that were overwhelming me. It was like falling into a delectable and slimy pit.

  A huge fat man came forward out of the crowd - even fatter than the one with all the money. Everyone shouted and jeered as he took off his denim shirt and pulled down his jeans. The others held me as the table was pulled aside. The fat man lay down on the floor wearing only his Stars and Stripes boxer shorts. He rolled onto his back like a gigantic whale.

  They carried me to him, ordered me to kneel by his side and remove his shorts.

  I did as I was told. He was enormous. I could hardly reach over him - his fat belly dished in like a water bed as I bent across him. The hairs on his chest covered two pulpy breasts. His neck was massive, so thick it was impossible to tell where it started or ended. His huge spongy arms flopped by his sides. They were completely covered in tattoos that ran up to a sudden stop above his undefined biceps. He had a short goatee beard and two large silver rings through his left nostril. Another silver ring hung down from his left eyelid. A flying eagle was tattooed on his forehead and both his cheeks were scarred with ugly white slashes.

  ‘With your teeth!’ someone shouted. ‘With your teeth!’

  I bent my head to the leg of his shorts. They smelled rank. I took the hem between my teeth and started to pull them down. I felt deeply humiliated. I tugged hard, but they would not peel away from his fleshy, quivering belly.

  One of them slapped me on the bottom. It was sudden and sharp and I pulled back. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. Another smack landed quickly, this time harder and more forceful. I knew it was an instruction to carry on. I did not question it, or look to see who was delivering it. I gripped the material of the shorts as tightly as I could and pulled with all the strength I could muster.

  They all jeered at my efforts - chanting rhythmically as I fought desperately to avoid another painful smack. But again it was not good enough. My buttocks clenched as a leather belt cut sharply across them, I winced and my whole body tightened, but I kept at the task that I had been set.

  Slowly, the gaudy shorts began to come down. Another slashing stroke with the belt and I fell forward, the shorts still between my teeth but now half way down the bulging white thighs of the fat man on the floor.

  His cock and testicles were fully exposed. They hung against his left thigh - flaccid and huge.

  Cheers filled the room. Beer sloshed down my back and into my hair.

  ‘Make it hard, whore! Make it hard! Let’s see if you’re worth the money!’

  I took it in my mouth. The foreskin was stretched only loosely over the huge glans beneath. I took the skin into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue, sucking at it. It started straightaway. I felt the glans beginning to throb and soon I tasted its nakedness as it pushed out and began filling my mouth. I put my hand on the shaft and it strengthened under my tightening fingers - thickening at first then lengthening as it filled. I ran my tongue around it and, as I pushed my head down onto it and pulled back, I spread it copiously with my frothing silky spit.

  They pulled me off it when it was fully extended. Now I saw how huge it was. It stood vertical and was laced with heavy pulsating veins. The purple engorged glans throbbed rhythmically as it continued to draw the shaft to greater length and thickness.

  They held me above it with my legs apart and they cheered as I was lowered down. I felt its heat first, before it touched my skin, then when it touched me I flinched as if I was being burned. Its tip was massive - scalding. They pressed my anus against it. I could not keep my eyes open. I breathed in gulps. I was sweating. I felt dizzy. The pressure was enormous. They pushed me down more. It went in. I felt as if I was being torn apart. Its heat was unbearable. It went in further. It began to fill my innards. I didn’t think it would stop. I gasped. I went so hot. I shivered. I broke out in a sweat. I bit my lips. It did no good. I bit my tongue. I could hardly feel the pain.

  I had never felt so full. I had never believed I could be so stuffed. I could not stop gasping. Then, at last, it stopped going in. They held me there. I did not dare move - I could not bear even to think of moving. Then, holding me under the armpits and by the ankles they began to rotate me on the massive cock that was buried so deeply into my plugged rectum.

  Slowly they turned me on it. I could not believe what was happening. It was unbelievable. I felt as if I was on a spit. The sensation overcame me - the venous shaft pulling around the stretched edges of my anus as it rotated. I thought I was going to pass out. I could not move my body myself - I was fu
lly under their control, completely at their mercy. I shivered with fear as I thought they might drop me onto it.

  They took me in one full circle, then another, and another. My head flopped forward and spit ran from my mouth in a stream. They took me around again. The pain in my anus and the feeling of fullness mixed together with my shame and humiliation. As I was taken around again, I knew that my degradation was complete, and with that realisation came the building flood of my orgasm as it gripped me and made me scream out for more. I couldn’t believe it - I was suffering more than I had ever suffered, and I was screaming out for more! I was terrified that they might release me and let me drop onto his massive cock, and I was screaming out for more!

  I did not know what would happen when I felt the shaft inside my rectum thickening with a surge of semen. I just hung there - screeching, pleading for it, and yet fearing every moment to come. A sudden sweat broke out on my face as I did at last feel it thickening. The pain was sharp at first then it became dull and throbbing as I felt the massive stream of hot semen explode inside me. My whole body jerked with its pulses. I felt it would come up my throat. I opened my mouth and yelped as loud as I could.

  The next thing I knew they pulled me off him. I collapsed in their arms as my anal muscle released the still pulsating cock. I was filled with a surge of searing pain. I don’t know where it was - it was everywhere. I felt his semen running down the insides of my thighs. I jerked again. My orgasm was unstoppable.

  Outside, they took turns to thrash me with their belts. Then they daubed me with grease and dragged me on the muddy ground by a rope wrapped around my ankles. Still I felt the jerking delight of my orgasm. No matter what they did to me, no matter how humiliated I was, my throbbing pleasure only grew. I did not know how it would end. I did not care.