1

"If you hate yourself so much, if you want to die so bad, why don't you go out with a bang? What do you care if some nobody gets off on you? If you're just gonna kill yourself, why not give the world a bit of pleasure before you're cold and dead? Would just be a waste not to give up your virginity at least. What do you care anyway."

I sat there, hunched over my phone in the corner of my room. Over and over, I re-read the words between bouts of blurred vision before the tears fell and it cleared again. I didn't know them, whoever it was. I'd gone to a group chat looking for… for something. I don't know what. I just wanted life to be over, to escape from the gut wrenching dread and self hatred. Did I want purpose? Did I want to give someone else satisfaction at the expense of my body and mind? What did I care anyway?

Another line appeared below that devastating blow. Someone named BobTheBreaker wrote, "Leave off Chip, they just joined and you're already at it again? Hey, SadPanda, ignore him, he's just a horny tryhard. You can do better."

Did I want to do better? My throat seized up and a faint sob shook me. I didn't deserve any better. I'd joined to find the worst. I wanted to be wanted, needed to be desired. Love was out of reach, attraction wasn't happening any time soon—too fat and ugly. All that remained was subservience and a willingness endure anything, any punishment, any depravity. Maybe enough would push me over the edge, give me just the right encouragement to end it all.

I wrote back at last, "I don't want to do better. I've got $500 to my name. Tell me a city, and a place to be. If I can afford to get there, I'll go. I'll wear a red hat and green scarf so you can identify me. I don't care what you do to me."

Chip wrote back while Bob was still typing, "Chicago, Humboldt Park. There's a little island with a garden. Wait on the bridge at midnight in four days. You aren't there I'm banning you from here and I'll let everyone know you're just a cock tease."

Bob replied, "Hah. Everyone? They just joined. What do they care, they don't know anyone here anyway."

"And this way, they never will."

I looked it up on my map. Chicago was easily within range, two hour bus ride away. Getting to the park might be harder. Five miles from the bus stop. Mass transit? Yeah. Less than an hour. "I can be there tonight." A backpack of clothes, some toiletries so as not to completely offend. Yeah, it was doable. I started to book the bus ticket even before Chip replied.

He did, quickly. "Whoa, you really are desperate, ain'cha. How fat and ugly are you? Am I gonna need to borrow some Viagra just to get it up?"

I answered, "I'm 260lbs, acne, I have a faint mustache and unibrow, small breasts. I won't make you ill to look at, I think, but I'm not worth much."

Bob added a second after I hit send, "What's your terms SadPanda? I can get to Chicago tonight too. What's your limits, what's your kinks? Got a safe word?"

I thought about it. I couldn't imagine anything I wouldn't do, at the moment, the worse it was the better, I wanted to be pushed, I wanted to be broken and never recover. I ordered the ticket and checked the receipt in my e-mail. I was good to go.

I returned to the chat. Chip had written back, "Asshole, she's mine."

Bob wrote, "You made the date public, you know the rules."

I typed, "Safe word? Sure… Um… Diet Plan. I don't know about the rest, I don't care. Maybe I'll think of something by the time I get there. As far as I'm concerned, you're both welcome." I felt a flutter of eagerness and a touch of arousal. They wanted me, not just Chip, but Bob too. I was wanted. For horrible, abusive reasons, but wanted none the less! I'd expected to get laughed out of the group. Instead I had a date.

Bob taunted, "Don't care? Really? What if I wanna pop a squat over your face after a night of taco bell?"

I shuddered in revulsion and stomach clenched in. I could picture it, so vivid, so intense. I imagined staring up into some stranger's hairy asshole, his pucker opening, and… "Ok, you win, no shit!"

Bob typed back, "Hah, so you do have limits. What about piss? Blood? Animals? Children? What if I want to murder you myself and feed your meat to your own family?"

Chip wrote, "Fuck off Bob, don't scare her off now that she's committed to it. So help me, if all I find at the bridge is your ugly ass I'll use YOU as MY taco bell toilet."

"Piss… if you want me gross and smelly, sure. Blood? Please… cut me, rip me, hurt me. Animals though I… Sure, if you really want. No children, it wouldn't be fair to them." I hit enter.

I stared at the last sentence. My sex clenched and a dribble oozed from between my folds to stain my underwear. "Please, take my life if you wish to, it's yours to use and dispose of. I won't fight back. I'll even thank you." I hit enter again and shivered. What the fuck was I doing?

A new name, DunceCap, added to the conversation, "Oh what's going on in here tonight? I'm in Chi-Town too, lets make it a party, hey? Just don't kill her till we've all had a chance to hit it."

"How do you know it's a her?" Bob asked.

Chip added, "Hey yeah, I don't do dudes, Bob does but not me. You're a girl, right?"

I felt wild. I was doing something, really doing something. It was a horrible, stupid thing, but I was doing it. I set the phone down against the wall and started the camera. I stood up before it then backed away until I was fully in frame, "Yes, I'm a girl," I said aloud. Then did the most brazen thing I'd ever done. I pulled my shorts and underwear down before the camera, turned around, and bent over. I shivered in pleasure and self disgust. I wondered if they would be able to see how wet I was. I clenched hard and a glob of moisture bubbled free to run down my folds and cling to my right thigh. I hoped they could see it. I dropped to my knees and backed up, until My ass was right above the phone, then reached back and stopped the recording.

I took a moment for my heart to stop racing and breathing to fall under control again. I stared at the still frame of my own sex, lips parted, glistening. My finger hovered over the send button for a moment. Was I really going to do this? Rule number one, never post nudes. Not to a boyfriend, not to anyone. I tapped the button and watched as the megabytes climbed, then the thumbnail appeared in chat. My oozing virginal vulva, revealed to the world for the first time. I added below it, "It's yours, if you want it. Use it, defile it, break it."

More names spoke up, a few lamented their distance from Chicago, another mocked me, called me a disgusting sow. Someone else promised to put a baby in it and keep me in chains until I gave birth on the basement floor. Another wanted to fuck it with a knife until it would never be of use again.

Bob wrote, "Eh, not too bad, I popped a boner. I doubt you know how to suck a dick but I'm sure you can choke on my piss. Try not to drown? Yet anyway."

Chip told the group, "You're all just desperate shitheads. Fine. If you can make it, come. But I expect you to bring drinks, drugs, or food. Anyone who comes empty handed gets the boot, got it?" He added a moment later, "Except you Panda. Just bring that fat ass of yours. I call dibs on your virginity. Whatever happens afterwords is on your own head. You started this, you're going to regret it, but you're in for the duration. Got it?"

I replied, "I'll be there. Midnight. If you don't show up I'll be disappointed." Multiple people typed back their confirmation, promises, and swears of violence. I closed my eyes tight and clenched my phone to my breast. "Holy fucking shit," I said aloud, "I have a bus to catch."

I pulled my underwear and shorts back on, threw some comfortable clothes in my bag, then rummaged in the bathroom for toiletries I might need. A few minutes later I was down stairs where Mom sat, watching the news. She looked up from the couch and saw me in my hoodie and glanced at my backpack. "Where are you off to? Don't you have work in the morning?"

I shook my head, "Fired. I'm going out to get raped, beaten, possibly murdered. Don't wait up."

She cocked an eyebrow at me, then shrugged, "alright then, don't tell me. But I'm turning off my phone. So if you get arrested you're going to have to wait until the morning. Don't expect a ride either."

Bitterly, but with a fake smile I replied, "Fine, but if my body washes up in the river, just know you could have prevented it." I kinda hoped it would.

She shrugged and looked back to the news, still speaking, "I doubt that. Have fun, whatever you're up to."

2

The bus let me off at the corner. It was warm and windy, no clouds, no moon, dark. Perfect night for a clandestine meeting. I inhaled the air of the park, the smell of cat tails and muck, tar, and gasoline. Took me a moment to gather my bearings. North was that way, I was here, the island was there, road… I found it after only a short stroll and slipped between the street lights. I felt exposed, revealed. No one would have guessed what reason I was here, but I felt like it anyway.

I stopped at the middle of the bridge and leaned against the rail. It was dark here. There was a light back on the main path, but trees obscured it. It was a perfect spot. I wondered if Chip had met others here before, for midnight booty calls. Or maybe he was as inexperienced as I was, and he'd just fantasized such an encounter in the park while going for a stroll.

I checked my phone, eleven forty. I expected someone to show up early, but there weren't even footsteps. I could hear cars passing on the road not too distant, but no one approached. Had they chickened out? I checked chat, but it was quiet. There had been a few hours of rapid conversation I'd not followed, plans made, others volunteering to join. More insults. I had twenty three private messages, but most of them were pointless. Someone wanted to save me, another called me a slut, a third offered to buy me so long as I was untouched by others. I dismissed them all with only a cursory glance.

"So," The voice startled me, I hadn't heard him approach, "you really showed up, huh?"

I looked up, toward the island. Toward the dimly lit figure as he approached. His feet were silent, slippers? Socks? No… I realized suddenly, he was naked from the waist down. "Who are you?" I asked. I tried to stop the tremble in my voice, but it was futile.

"Doesn't really matter, now does it? We both know what is about to happen. You made a choice, a very poor choice for a young girl. You fucked up. You can't imagine where this is going to end, not in your worst nightmares or most perverse fantasies."

I glanced down, his erection faintly visible below his shirt. I lowered m y backpack from a shoulder to the bridge and turned to face him. "Yeah, that was kinda the idea. Bob?"

"That's me. Good guess. You're smart for a dumbass. Thirsty?"

I shuddered and swallowed the film of saliva that gushed forth. Nausea just at the thought. "Shouldn't we wait for…"

"Chip called dibs on your cunt. I'm not interested in getting you pregnant, or leaving D.N.A. behind for the coroner to sample. Maybe they can get something of me off you when I'm done, but I'm sure there will be plenty of others to confuse the tests."

My fingers were white knuckled on the railing. I released it by force of will and clutched that hand to my breast. I could hear the rush of blood in my ears as my heart thudded under my fist. My breath caught, shuddered out, shuddered in. I took that step, then another. He waited, his eyes upon me, a faint glimmer in the dark. I didn't know who he was, not really. I didn't know what he looked like. He was a complete stranger, and he was about to use my mouth as his personal urinal. I was going to let him.

My knees trembled, then steadied after the fourth step. I closed the distance and looked up into his face. He had a beard, a big one. I wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him. I leaned up as if to meet him, but he didn't reciprocate. His hand caught my pony tail and twisted in it. I whimpered in pain, shock, and a sudden rush of lust. "Yes… please." I whispered and begged.

He forced me down until my knees buckled and I dropped. I stared up at him still, now with his erection in front of my nose. I inhaled. He wasn't remotely clean, smelled intensely of body odor, so pungent it made my eyes water. Sweat and stale urine as well wafted into my sinuses.

"See, that's what I like, that right there. Your expression of disgust. You're horrified." His erection twitched as he spoke, but he didn't make me taste it, not yet, only held me firm. "By the end of the night, you're going to be numb, you won't care anymore. But right now, you are beautiful, more beautiful than any model. You willingly stepped into this, even though it is obviously against your nature. It disgusts you. I disgust you. Yet I am going to use you and you are going to let me."

Holy fuck did he love hearing himself talk, I realized. But, it was working. His words effected me, pounded like nails into my skull and left me shuddering. I was beautiful? He was delusional, a freak, but I believed him. "Yes, I am willing! Use me, make me suffer, let me please you with my suffering!" I was getting into it, eager. I inhaled again, marveling in the wretched stench from his crotch. I gagged aloud with eyes clenched, swallowed, then opened them again.

He jerked my head forward and thrust his hips. I'd never tasted a man, clean or otherwise. I'd never felt a penis between my lips. I'd never buried my nose in pubic hair before. I shuddered in revulsion and lust, then closed my lips on him and started to suckle. I was here to drink, so I treated his member like a cow's teat. He didn't reach the back of my throat, only lay upon my tongue. I nursed upon it as his reeking pubic hair filled my nose.

He sighed then, a long drawn out sigh. His whole body relaxed but for the tight, painful grip upon my hair. Bitterness filled my mouth. I could taste just how dark his urine was the second it hit the back of my tongue. I gagged again, nausea clutched at my gut. Within seconds my cheeks began to swell. "Swallow. If you do not swallow I will drag you away from here before any of the others come, and you'll spend the next month learning to drink properly."

My mind twisted, a fork in the road, a choice. Both seemed equally repulsive and alluring. I didn't have long to mull it over though. As soon as the indicisive thought came, it passed, and I forced his putrid waste down my throat. I gulped and gulped as he emptied himself. My stomach churned, my throat rebelled, my salivary glands worked overtime. I wanted to throw up, but forced it down instead.

Before I knew it, it was over. He let go of my hair and stepped back. His cock was flaccid now, erection lost rapidly against my tongue. "That was beautiful. You didn't spill a drop. You drank a stranger's piss without any reason at all other than he told you to." I knelt there and shook under his gaze. I heard his words but my mind was focused inwards, towards the rebellion of my guts. Over and over I swallowed saliva and nausea back down. What the fuck had I just done? What was wrong with me?

When I looked outward again he was buckling his pants. "You don't want anything more?" I asked, voice strained.

"Nope. Asexual. The only thing that attracted me to you was your depraved surrender. Have fun tonight, probably won't ever hear from you again. Wonder how long you can keep that belly full down?"

I swallowed again, hard, then admitted, "Not long. I don't think."

"Then let it out, I wouldn't mind watching you humiliate yourself further. Why don't you? You've no shame left anyway, do you?"

I whimpered. That cut deep, I felt real pain for a moment. Tears prickled at my eyes as I drew a shaky breath, then another. "No… not anymore, I guess." Then I turned toward the railing and pressed my forehead to the slats. I let go then, why not? What was I holding back on? In minutes I'd probably be in a far worse position. It tasted worse on the way back up, bile and piss combined. It fountained from my throat, straight out across the water. I heaved twice more, then hung limp from my grip on the railing.

3

When I raised my head again, he was gone. All that remained of the stranger was the taste on my tongue and the misery in my guts. I looked back and forth up and down the bridge, but there was no sign of him leaving. There was however multiple heavy footsteps running up. I could see a shadow move in the distant lamp light, then another. Oh hell… Panic set in, absolute panic.

"Well there she is!" The voice was astonished, a faint northern accent to it. High pitched but male. Young, perhaps even a teenager.

"Hah, what a dumb fuck. Alright Panda, you ready for us?"

"Chip?" I asked.

The young voice revealed to be a grinning teen as he ran up to me, "Yep. Now why are you still dressed? You're here for a reason, so give me that thick pussy like you promised."

I could have probably stopped him, fought him off, called my safe word, something. The thought crossed my mind. Instead I pulled down the hem of my shorts where I knelt and revealed the pale moon of my ass to the muggy night air. "You want me here? On the bridge?"

"On the bridge, right here." He looked down at me, his eyes eager with lust and jeans tented over an erection. Unlike Bob, he had quite the piece on him, judging by the outline of his bulge.

I kicked my shorts off. Someone else grabbed them, rummaged through the pockets, then tossed them over the edge into the water. I pulled my underwear down. Chip grabbed the crotch and jerked them off. A shoe came off with them. That too went in the water. He however squeezed my panties and laughed, "Fuck these things are soaked. Did you piss yourself or are you just that sick?"

I answered with quavering voice, "I-I'm sick. I'm filthy disgusting trash." I laid back on the deck of the bridge and pulled my knees to my chest. My rump lifted, my sex visible in the dim light, a glistening slash between. "No one has ever wanted me, no one has ever used me. Break me please. Make me squeal like a pig. Pass me around like a bloody sock to sop up your seed." I'd read something like that once, and it thrilled me to speak the words aloud to the five gathered about me.

"Well alright then, cunt, lets hear you squeal. Go for it."

I felt stupid, did I even know how to squeal? I stared up at him for a moment trying to think. The retaliation was swift and justified. I screamed out and clapped a hand between my legs. His boot came away damp with my lust and my labia swelled with bruises. He'd kicked me between the legs, and it took me a long moment to register that. I started to squeal then, just a whining noise that became higher pitch as I gathered my wits. A pig, I was a pig. I squealed. I rolled back and forth on the ground clutching my battered sex and I squealed.

Hands closed on my knees and pinned them to the decking. I shuddered as the weight of him came down on me, halted me, forced me open. "Grab her wrists," Chip ordered, others compiled. I was pinned in place with ass raised. I couldn't make out his features, I couldn't tell his expression, but I felt the fury in him. He didn't like me, didn't appreciate me, he wanted to hurt me. In the darkness all I could hear was the wind, their breaths, and then a zipper. It was time.

I closed my eyes and laid back. It wasn't rape, I'd asked for this, I'd wanted this. I still wanted this. The stranger above me leaned in and I felt his hot tip prod me between the cheeks. He wriggled his hips back and forth and shimmied forward, then found my soggy entrance. I was astonished to realize, I could feel his heartbeat through his cock. It was so alive, so alien. No one had ever touched me there before, let alone with such intent.

I whispered, "Do it, break me open."

"Don't push me, pig," he rejoined, then did it. He grunted like a pig himself as he thrust. I was wet enough that he found little resistance until he met my hymen. His head stretched me, my labia slipped to either side and hugged his shaft. He thrust again and I felt the pain. Too big, too fucking big! I squirmed away, or tried to anyway, but him and two others held me fast to the bridge. I tore, it hurt, white hot pain seared up my core as he sheathed himself inside. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

He bottomed out and continued pushing. I could feel my stomach shift inside to make room for him, my walls stretched, unused muscles awakened and trembled. He pulled out and left a void behind. The pain of his head passing my entrance made me gasp, a breath at last. Then he thrust once more, again, again. I lost focus on it after that, overwhelmed. His hips slammed down against me, his penis battered my insides, bruised me nearly as much as his boot had. I cried out, then turned it into a squeal just for him, for my anonymous lover. Hater? The violence in him was incredible. But that was a use too, a purpose, I could be a vessel for him to empty his anger into.

"Chip," I said softly between gasps, "Do you want to hit me? You can hit me." It felt like betrayal to say it, or like trying to cut your own throat but not having the guts. His answer was a sloppily launched fist straight into my stomach. I heaved in shock, coughed, and tried to breathe in only to be laid back flat as his fist landed against my breast. Pain blossomed from both impact sites. I caught my breath, then whispered, "Thank you. I hope it felt." He slammed his hips down, bottomed out, and kept pushing until his pelvis crushed against mine. The bruises hurt, smashed like that, but it felt good.

He struck again and my head rang as it smacked off the bridge and eye began to swell shut. Another strike, my other breast. I squealed instead of screaming. He returned to thrusting, three or four times, then punched once more, straight down onto my pubic mound. His knuckle landed on my clit. I screamed, a real scream. My back arched and I strained against the hands holding me. Futile. I didn't even realize he was cumming at first. I felt maybe his third or fourth throb, and the watery filling he left behind as it began to ooze from my aching folds and dribble down the crack of my ass.

His boyish voice came from far away, "I'm done. Bitch is all yours boys." He sounded exhausted and perhaps a little confused.

"Get her up, lets get her out of here before someone notices her cries." I wasn't entirely coherent. I tried to help, but my legs kept tangling up under me, so they dragged me, one bare foot scraped along the asphalt and gravel, the other still protected in it's shoe. I tried to look at them as we passed under the light, but one eye was swollen shut, and the other didn't seem to want to focus right.

I didn't so much lose time as forget to pay attention. I hurt everywhere. It was so distracting. Only when I was dragged into the back of someone's SUV and laid across a bench seat did I begin to take note. Where was my backpack? My phone? It had been in my shorts… which were now in the pond. Damn. It didn't matter, I realized, but…

Hands pressed me back into the seat, and someone wrapped a seatbelt around me crudely, enough to keep me from falling out while laying down. Someone else sat on my spread legs, one under his knees, the other behind his back. I could see his face, not ugly, not handsome. He smiled at me, lust and eagerness still in his expression. "Chip? Where is Chip?" I asked.

Someone answered from the front seat, "Gone, went the other way."

"Oh," I said, and felt strangely hurt by that. I didn't even like him, and he'd been entirely mean, but between my legs I could still feel the cooling mess of his lust he had spent on me.

The man on my legs told me, "Don't worry, we'll keep you nice and busy." He then laid his hand against my throbbing, pain saturated vulva, and pinched my bruised clit. I yelped and he grinned, pinched again, then pushed his fingers inside and swirled them. "Damn he left a load in you, didn't he." His fingers were removed, then thrust into my face. I could see the stain of blood on them, and the gloppy mess of semen, "Open up."

I opened my lips and let him smear the mess upon my tongue and lips. I closed them again, on his fingers, and began to suckle upon them as if his cock. I stared at him with my one eye, and tried to smile, but it hurt. He stared back, grinning as I cleaned the seed and blood away. When he withdrew, I whispered, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, I'll be sure to give you a fresh mouthful as soon as we get somewhere comfortable." He delved back between my legs, scraped his nails along my fore wall painfully, and drew another glob free and brought it to my lips. I repeated my performance, this time with eye closed. I relaxed, and somehow succeeded. A smile even graced my lips that was genuine.

Chip's semen was bitter and strange, the texture utterly unfamiliar, and the flavor unpleasant. It clung to my tastebuds, teeth, the roof of my mouth, and back of my throat. I didn't like it. I felt myself grow aroused again, and it made me smile.

"Guess Bob never showed up, hm?"

"He's all talk anyway."

When the fingers left my mouth again and returned to my aching sex, I told them, "He was here first, a very peculiar man. Didn't even want to get off."

"Huh. Well how about that. What'd he do?"

"He pissed down her throat, that's what he did. Isn't that right?"

I nodded, then answered, "He did. It was horrible."

"Horrible?" The smiling man asked, I nodded, "I think I might want to wash my cum down your throat too, then. How do you feel about that?"

I opened my eye again to gaze up into his, and put as much emotion into my statement as I could, "I would be honored to suffer for you. Use me however you want. I have no shame, I don't care how disgusting and horrible it tastes I…" I clenched on his fingers, hard, and his eyes opened wide, "Well, you see?"

"You're a sick bitch, you know that? Sick in the head." I nodded, mute, and rolled my hips against his hand. He took the hint and began to massage me, inside and out. "Well I'll be damned."

I spent the car ride like that, relaxing in the back seat as smiley finger fucked me and occasionally smeared the mess across my face, tongue, chin, and chest. When the drive ended, I was on edge, ready to cum, but he never let me. Any time I got close, his fingers pulled out and he deposited the damp digits somewhere else. I suckled them clean, I wore Chip's cum, was smeared in virginal blood… I loved it.

4

The garage door closed, and only once it was down did they open the doors. I could hear a dog barking in the distance, but not a car on the road. "Where are we?" I asked.

The driver answered with a smirk, "Somewhere quiet. Don't worry about it." I felt nervous, but said nothing. This was what I wanted.

I managed to walk on my own this time, with help, though my head was still spinning. They lead me out of the garage, then down, into a basement. Nervousness gave way to dread. There was a bed down there, with shackles. A very telling stain marked that bare mattress. I wasn't the first woman to be here. I wondered if she was still alive.

"Nice little love shack you got here Dunce."

"Thank you kindly. Doesn't see a lot of use, I'll admit."

"But it does see use," I said quietly as I stared at the bed.

He reached out and took my hands in his, turned them palm up, and stared down at me. He was a hard man to read, but somehow I felt tenderness from him. "Lets get you cleaned up. Want something to drink other than Bob's brew?"

"My wants don't matter," I replied firmly, and meant it. "I'll drink what ever you want me to."

"Atta girl. Know your place and you'll do fine. I think GemBear wanted to wine and dine you on his bladder and balls, though, so lets get you freshened up for him, hm?" He lead me through a door next to the bed, and pushed me to the far wall. It was just a shower stall, nothing else. He turned on the cold water, grabbed the shower head on a hose, and aimed it at me. My shirt was soaked in seconds and I shuddered under the icy needles. Instinct made me turn away and hunch, but I fought back.

A few seconds passed as I grew accustomed to the cold water, as much as I could anyway. I pulled my shirt up and over my head, dropped it with a plop. I wore no bra under it, it had seemed pointless to bother with one. I turned to face him again, exposed, naked, and shivering. He aimed the water up, between my legs. Jets shot inside, bathed my aching folds and passage. I stared at the pink and milky water as it swirled toward the drain.

"Isn't that better?" He asked. I nodded with a shiver of cold. "Bend over and spread your legs. I want to get a good look in you." I compiled, I turned about, bent over with hands on the far wall, and parted my legs until my heels touched either side wall. "Ouch, he really did a number, didn't he."

"I told him to break me," I admitted.

"That he did, I guess. You might need stitches. But that can wait I suppose. By the time we're done with you, you might not need them at all."

I nodded with teeth clenched, then relaxed my jaw and told him, "They'd just get in the way of the next man who wants to use me."

I closed my eyes as a shiver of terror rolled up my spine. He aimed the water into my sex again. It stung fiercely and the water swirled away pink, but no longer milky. So focused on my inner pain and the cold, I jumped with a start when his hand cupped my entrance and pressed. "I think I'll be that next man. But first…" He shut off the shower and pulled me back with his fingers dug into my sex. I squirmed as lust built again and the warmth wafted through my depths. He lead me out, guiding me only by my sex, then pushed me down to the bed. "I've something for you to take. I don't like my women fully coherent and consenting."

I laid face first to the filthy, stained mattress, then rolled over to face him. "What do you mean?" A gash of blood stained his palm, my blood. He brought it to his lips and licked the mark of my slit clean. "oh fuck," I breathed, how the fuck was this turning me on?

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a little baggie, within it was a small home made pill. Pressed it gently to my lips, eyes upon mine, but said nothing. I opened my lips obediently and let it fall in. It hit the back of my throat, and caught, dry. I swallowed, but it didn't budge. What was it? A bitter taste spread through my mouth, and I could feel it dissolve slowly where it stuck. I swallowed again, and it shifted a little. Fuck was it bitter. My tongue cringed and my nose flared, but I didn't try to spit it up.

He gestured to GemBear, "Her mouth is yours brother."

They dragged me head-ward, toward the other end of the bed, until it fell over the edge. Above me Gem stood smiling, his eyes bright with pleasure. I smiled back at him and reached up. Both wrists were caught from the side and pulled down. Leather shackles closed on them, locks clicked shut. I gave an experimental tug, but they were affixed firmly to the corner of the mattress. My smile wavered a little.

I felt warm, a strange feeling against the cold wet chill of my skin and hair. The bitterness spread down my throat and into my sinuses. I couldn't feel the pill anymore but I kept trying to swallow it. It felt like something was lodged, but there was nothing there. My ankles were pulled apart, shackles closed, locks clicked. I had more movement there, at least until they grabbed my knees, and pulled the leather straps tight through them. Thighs wide, knees apart, arms spread, head over the edge. I giggled, but why was I giggling?

Gem unbuckled his jeans and let them fall. I stared up at his member, not too thick, but long, with a head narrower than the shaft behind it. He was circumsized, and there was a scar on the underside of his glans that stretched back to the shaft. "What happened?" I asked.

He explained with a shrug, "Cock ring got torn out, nasty breakup." I flinched. "Now open up, I wanna see all the way to your stomach."

"That's not possible," I explained, then giggled again and opened my mouth wide, head up for him to inspect. He cupped the back of my head and throat, then pressed his erection to my lips.

"We'll see," he told me with a wink, then rammed down against the back of my throat like a pile driver. I sobbed out in shock, gagged, and arched my back. A second passed. It felt like my tonsils were going to split apart, then he sank beyond. That club like girth behind his head passed between and it narrowed behind. I sobbed again, struggled to breathe, strained against my bonds, and cried out through my nose.

He fell forward, his hands caught the fat roll of my stomach and grasped tight. I felt like my stomach would be pulled off at first, but his position changed as his knees settled against the mattress. Then he began to fuck me. It wasn't oral sex, it was oral impalement. Down my throat he slid, without a care in the world to what I did or how I struggled. Thrust after thrust, he raped my throat. It was rape too, I wanted to cry my safe word, but I couldn't make any useful sound. The air was filled with wet throaty gulps and sucks while my tears and snot trailed down into my hairline.

There was a strange lightness to my body, a distance that did nothing to prevent the sensations or suffering. I felt like I was floating as I rocked back and forth into the old bed springs. My shoulders ached and wrists strained, but nothing gave way, no matter how hard he slam fucked my face. Somewhere along the line, well before he was done, I lost control. It was like a weight lifted from my shoulders. I stopped caring, I stopped fearing, I even stopped hating myself. A moment passed as I surrendered to that euphoria, and then my orgasm came upon me. The wave built from nowhere, a strange tingling sensation that rose and rose until my toes were curling and my hips bucked against the chill air.

I clenched, and a splatter of mingled fluids re-stained the mattress. My hips flexed, my stomach bunched under his fists, and I cried an inhuman cry around his spire. It didn't stop. On and on the wave rose and crashed, rose and crashed. Every thrust pushed it higher. I was used, I had purpose, I was wanted. I was where I belonged! I was in heaven, even as I struggled to breathe, each one a wet suck of air that bubbled in my lungs.

Between my legs someone climbed onto the bed. I couldn't see who, but I felt his hands upon my thighs, warm and calloused. Not Dunce. He penetrated me without hesitation. I squirmed back and forth under the two of them, impaled from both ends. He wasn't as violent or eager as Gem or Chip, but it felt wonderful none the less. I cried out again as the orgasmic waves peaked, fell peaked again, once for each thrust. The ache returned, it stung, wound opened wider. He thrust and thrust, slammed against my inner wall, and more blood flowed. Chip had been so big, I hadn't realized how big. This guy wasn't even close, but he hit just the right place to hurt me. I cherished it!

Above me Gem stiffened, his member throbbed between my lips, strained my bruised throat, nearly tore my tonsils. He called out something incoherent and dug his nails into my fat and dragged up, towards my breasts. My hips rose to follow, and met the stranger's thrust, hipbone against hipbone. My bruised flesh screamed fresh agony.

Deep in my throat, he throbbed again and spilled his thick seed. I swallowed, helpless. Some got into my lungs and I coughed. Semen burned it's way up the back of my nose into my sinuses. More unloaded down my throat and reached my belly. I swallowed, coughed, whimpered and swallowed again. Throb after throb, he emptied into me, my purpose fulfilled. A cum stained sock, that was all I wanted to be.

He remained there for a quiet moment while the other grew more and more intense, as he grew closer to his peak. I could hear him panting and feel the bruising crush of his fingers on my thighs. There would be marks. Gem didn't pull out though, instead he pressed down, hard, and sheathed his still rigid cock as far down my throat as it would go. Only then did I remember what he'd said. Barely in time, I held my breath. Bitter waste filled my throat, and I let it flow straight to my stomach. I swallowed, and it gurgled down.

It took him what felt like forever before he finished, and my stomach felt bloated, filled to the brim. He still didn't retreat though even as the last trickle of waste dribbled free of him. The man inside my sex, pulled free. Once again I'd missed the experience, he'd cum and I'd not noticed. His seed dribbled from me, pooled under my ass on the mattress, and left me feeling used. I trembled.

Gem clenched, his member twitched, and another stream of urine blasted free, just a squirt. He withdrew until only his head lay between my lips. I anticipated it as the second blast of piss washed my teeth and tongue. I shuddered in disgust, but did not spit, nor did I swallow. He pulled free and I let his flavor fill my senses as I stared up at him through one tear blurred eye. He clenched, jet of urine washed across my lips and nose, and ran down my face into my hair, then another, and he was done.

"Look me up when you're through with this. Wouldn't mind a chat, and maybe another meeting. Assuming you will wish to remember this night when it's over." He stretched, then shuffled back and pulled his pants back up. I listened to the jingle of his belt and heard him step away. He gave me one final caress, a sweep of his fingers over my breast and flabby stomach. He wanted to talk to me again, even after sex, he wanted to have me again? I was naked before him, ugly, fat, filthy, and humiliating myself, and he wanted me still.

I suddenly and brilliantly knew what love was. I loved that man. Somehow I couldn't voice it, couldn't put the feeling into words. My tongue felt leaden and confused, my lips didn't obey properly. They ached, were swollen and bruised from his rape, but that didn't explain it. I tried to raise my head, but I could only get half way up. I wanted him to come back, I wanted to tell him! At the top of the stairs a door closed, and he was gone.

5

"You didn't like your breasts," someone said, "Too small? No, perfect."

A hand came from my left. I hadn't even realized someone was there. Had he always been there? He'd probably helped shackle me. His hand laid upon my bruised left breast and cupped it. "Whu?" was all I managed.

"A perfect handful, no more, no less. Your nipples are nice and firm, your areola large." He paused as his fingers pinched, then he squeezed. "I want you to know this. They are beautiful. Understood?" I stared up at him with one eye, confused. "Is that understood?" He demanded. I at last nodded. "Good. You need to understand that, because, I am going to destroy them."

"Wh… wait! I…" The words were so hard to say, so distant.

"No waiting. It is my turn."

"Diet Plan!" I cried forcefully out and strained against my bonds.

He laughed. Genuine mirth, yet I felt no echo of joy, his laugh was a cruel thing, a cold thing. They were beautiful he said, and he wanted to destroy that beauty. I'd never thought of them as beautiful. Too small, areolas too dark, nothing to catch a boy's eye. "You think that little shit's speech about limits and safe words has any meaning now? Do you honestly not realize the reality of your situation? You are chained up in a basement, in the country with miles of fields and forest in every direction, with strange men who have no good will toward you. You have no hope, no help, and no escape. I have no interest in killing you, but you may wish you were dead!" He laughed again and laid that hand once more to my breast, pinched, then pulled the nipple up.

I remained still, as reality crashed into my confused mind. That euphoria gave way to a confused terror. Panic. I couldn't breathe. I gasped for air, strained against the bonds, but couldn't escape. I rolled my head back and forth, but there was no give. Helpless. I was helpless.

There was a glint of silver, then a sharp pain just below my nipple. I mewled and strained away from him to no avail. The needle went deep, into the meat of my breast. Then the burning began. "Capsaicin is mostly harmless, but incredibly painful. Needles are fairly harmless as well, but terrifying. Combine them and it's a delicious torture." He left the needle in place and plucked up another. I screamed this time as it sank straight down through the center of my pinched nipple.

My bladder let go at that point. The stain on the bed grew wider, my ass wet, my thighs drenched by the splatter. I felt shame for the first time in hours. He tutted, but said nothing. A third needle entered from the top, straight down into the meat. The heat bloomed from each, spread through my breast. The whole lump felt on fire. Then he let go and it bounced, driving the needles back and forth inside, tearing up my inner flesh

He stood and moved about to the other side. Nipple pinched, pulled taut. He stabbed. Straight down through the center, I screamed again. "It doesn't have to be capsaicin of course. I could use a number of infectious fungus available, bacteria. Maybe try a flesh eating fungus on the right, and something horrible but not too deadly on the left?" My scream rose in panic. I could see my flesh decay, the imagery in my mind brutal enough and vivid enough to leave me blank with overwhelming fear. "Pity I've got nothing of the sort."

The panic died down a little, but the pain was growing worse and worse and my breath came in short seizure like gasps. My arms and legs were taut wires, straining against my bonds, but it did no good. Another flash of silver rose, and a trail of fire fell. He drew a line to around the side of my areola. A knife, it was a knife I realized in the aftermath. He'd sliced me open. Another cut on the other side. He circled the nipple then, then slid the thin blade under my skin.

"Beauty is fleeting," He told me as he pulled the needle from the end of my nipple with one hand, then slashed with the other. "What is a breast without a nipple? It's function is gone, it cannot feed a child, it cannot stiffen in delight, it has little to no erogenous purpose."

I did not scream, I stared, even a crack of vision through my swollen shut eye. It was gone. A bloody patch in it's place. Something I'd taken for granted, something that had always belonged to me, had been stolen. My head fell back and the only sound I made was a forlorn moan. I barely responded as he removed the other. The pain blossomed, faded, then returned like a raging fire that could not be quenched. Something cold and burning sprayed across my chest. I didn't look up.

"I thank you for the gift of your flesh. I shall cherish them. The spray glue should at least prevent you from bleeding out, assuming the next man to rape you isn't too brutal. I'm not sure which you should pray for, survival, or death, at this point. Neither of which are particularly pleasant." He walked away without another word. The door closed at the top of the stairs. I longed for unconsciousness, but it did not come. My nipples were gone, in their place, agony, and deep below my breasts throbbed with a fire unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

"I suppose it is my turn," Dunce said quietly. He'd been there the whole time, said nothing, did nothing. "You're a bit of a filthy mess again though." He opened the shower stall, grabbed the hose, and turned it on. I'd expected him to put me back in the stall, something, instead he just sprayed my aching vulva with the icy water, and soaked the mattress under me. I shivered, but it was a minimal response in a sea of stimulation.

"What…" I started to say, then licked my lips. The vile bitter taste upon them was startling. I'd forgotten Gem's piss. I'd not even thrown it up. "What do you want?"

"I want you to understand your place," he told me. He laid a hand to my stomach, just above my pubic mound and pulled back my flab to spray the shower head under it. "You are helpless. You have no say in your fate. You get no consent. You are an object to be used and discarded as I please." He put the shower head back and turned off the water, then fished another pill out and pressed it to my lips. "And I want you completely incoherent. This drug should help tonight imprint itself in your psyche forever. Like a reoccurring nightmare you can never forget."

I opened my lips and let it fall upon my tongue. Bitter. More bitter than Gem's piss, more bitter than Bob's piss. I sucked on the pill as it began to dissolve. He fed me another, I accepted it. Everything felt vivid and bright, my body felt so light and distant, yet it was a distance that allowed clarity. I could see myself for what I was. The fat slovenly wreck of a human, now tattered. I watched him as he climbed atop the bed, naked from the waist down, and press himself against my sex.

With a sigh, he leaned forward and placed hands upon my shoulders, My breasts seared as the skin tugged. Then he penetrated me. It felt good. It was a normal kind of violation. I'd craved it since I was a child. The vulnerability taken advantage of was an exquisite sensation. I'd betrayed myself to these men, and they had answered that betrayal with the abuse I'd craved. Perhaps someone would remove my arms and legs next. Leave nothing but a pair of holes to be filled and emptied at the whims and fancy of strangers.

He sighed again as he thrust. This was my purpose. I had no say in it, but that was alright, that was what I'd always wanted. No say, no choice, no future. I moaned as he bottomed out and reopened the tears. I never wanted it to end. Tears wept from my eyes and my breath caught in deep sobs, but my emotions were light and pure. Depression had vanished, self hatred was gone. I felt happy for the first time in my adult life. An involuntary smile curled at the corners of my lips as I rocked back and forth on the filthy mattress.

He spent himself inside of me with barely a sound. A few sighs, a slap of skin on skin, a caught breath followed by a gasp of relaxation. This time I felt it. He throbbed deep within, below my cervix. I felt the splash of his fertile release and mirrored it with a small, helpless orgasm of my own, barely of note, but it was there. He too felt it as I clenched on him, as my womb dipped and cervix kissed the shaft behind his glans. He made no comment though.

He remained locked inside of me for a time. We basked in each other's embrace, his heavy and strong, mine weak and broken, only able to express it by the clench and caress of my vaginal walls. I enjoyed it, as cruel as his words might have been meant, they were truth, and I cherished what he had done to me. He was gentle and kind in his cruelty. Love swelled in my breast behind the fire of torment. I raised my head limply and looked at him as he withdrew and mumbled something incoherent.

"What was that?" He asked, voice heavy with fatigue.

I tried again, my lips and tongue disobedient, "love… you." I managed at last, then let my head fall back.

"You fool," He told me, but I could hear the smile on his lips. "Try and sleep. Tomorrow when the others have gone I will introduce you to my real affections." I smiled at the wall and shivered in anticipation. I couldn't imagine what it was, but that didn't matter. Only that he was going to show me, that I would serve.

6

I did manage a little sleep, and woke with a clear head, and incredible start. Cold water washed over my body, head to toe, then back up to bathe my aching vulva. I felt lethargic and mentally muddled, but in full control of my faculties. He spent time pulling my folds open, washing between them, and irrigating the wounds inside. Infection was likely, no one had taken proper care of the damage, but that was okay. If I died of infection, it would be by his choice, his will.

"Good morning," I said clearly, head raised to look at him. He was naked, to my surprise, and quite well muscled. A handsome man, more so than any of the others from the night before. And it was for certain day now. There were no windows, but I could see daylight streaming through cracks in the door upstairs.

"Good, you say? You are such a fool. Not my problem if you want to enjoy your miserable existence. From what I could see, you were on the verge of suicide yesterday."

"I was," I admitted, then grinned, "I got better."

He nodded and said with a smile, "Ah, Monty Python."

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

His smile fell, "Oh. Well. Nevermind."

I gave him a look, then let my head fall back as I relaxed. I tried to stretch but could not move particularly well, and my body felt about as knotted up and bruised as were possible. "So, what do you have in store for me today? More body modification? Perhaps a parade of gentlemen callers?"

"I'm going to introduce you to Baphomet."

I frowned at the wall above my head. "Isn't that the devil or something?"

"I named him after the religious entity, but that has nothing to do with the devil." He turned the water off and looked down at my face. "You really are happy, aren't you." I nodded and grinned up at him. I was broken, bloody, mutilated, and probably pregnant by now, if I didn't miscarry from trauma. But I was happy. "Well, lets see how you feel after Baphomet is done with you. He tends to break his toys, and you're already half broken as is."

He leaned down and undid something under the bed, and half of it tipped down, feet toward the floor. I was bent, feet pulled as well by the straps, my stomach and hips raised up around a hard lump under the mattress. At the very least, my head was pulled down by the process, so it lay on the mattress itself instead of over the edge. "Well that's an improvement," I admitted, though I felt stretched as if upon a rack.

He went up the stairs again and was gone for a time. When he returned, he had something else, it looked like a bear, but after further inspection, it was a dog. More fur than feature, but massive and powerful none the less. The steps down creaked under him nearly as much as the man himself. He was well behaved though, and stayed right at his master's side, with his bright yellow eyes riveted on me. There was hunger there, a real predator that saw nothing but prey. I shivered violently, and not from the icy cold bathing I'd just endured. The primal instinct roared within, run, flee, death imminent.

"Baphomet, I presume," I said through broken lips, drawn tight in barely a smile.

"Baphomet," he agreed, then reached down to unhook the leash. He took a step back and seated himself in a comfortable chair and leaned back. As I watched, his member grew to an erection and I curled his fist about it, just to squeeze. "I am going to enjoy this. Far more than you will, I think, but no where near as much as he is about to."

"Am I food or mate?" I asked. My eyes darted back and forth between the canine and the master. Both seemed to be salivating.

"His choice. Maybe both. The moment I give him permission, I have no say over your fate anymore. My treat for him, you see. He's such a good boy."

I closed my eyes tight, then opened them again and looked down at this supposed good boy. The glare that looked back could have stripped paint. "And if I live through it?"

"I'll have my recordings to keep me company, should you live or die. But if you live, I'll patch you up and dump you somewhere close to home. Scout's honor."

"You were a scout?"

"Well, no, but I've still got honor."

I chuckled and shook my head, "Well, I'm excited to see what Baphomet has in store for me. You feed him yet today?"

With a shrug he told me, "Been three days since he ate."

Quietly I muttered, "Ah."

He agreed, "Yep."

I smiled brightly and told him, "Well, thanks for the company and incredible experience. I do love your house… that which I can see of it anyway."

"Thank you kindly, Panda. It's been quite a pleasure hosting you." He clicked his tongue sharply. The dog's ears perked. He whistled an out of tune warble, then clicked his tongue again. The dog lurched forward, all thick fur and powerful muscle. He barreled straight into the bed and braced his fore paws on the mattress to either side of my chest and lowered his face to mine.

Dog breath was never my favorite, but as he snuffled across my broken lips and down my throat, I thought it was an improvement over Bob. Teeth closed on my throat, sharp points pinched at jugulars. Was this it? Was it going to end between the jaws of a dog? I didn't feel any sorrow at the thought, nor regret. I closed my eyes, smiled, and relaxed. His mouth opened and closed again, his nose buried in my damp hair, tongue against my esophagus.

He made a soft woof, more subwoof than audible. I felt it in my bones, and it shook me straight to my heart. His hips fell and landed against the mattress between my legs. I felt a hot wet point jab me in the thigh. He shifted forward, inward, and nestled it between my tattered folds. It stung as the wounds opened again, but I accepted it. This was my purpose now, fuck toy for an inhuman beast. He pressed forward, teeth gouged skin, and his spire emerged straight from his fluffy hot sheath into my damp, cold sex.

He bottomed out, and kept pushing. He rolled his hips and jerked hard until he found the correct angle, then barred down with his whole weight. I cried out in agony as his sharp pointed tip gouged against my deepest depths. He was massive, thick as my wrist, but I had already been torn wide. The length of him was however too much. Something tore deep within, I felt it with a faint pop then a slow ominous rip just below my navel. Not my vaginal passage, but something deeper. As it tore, he sank further, and further, until I felt his scrotum rest against my ass.

There he remained for a moment. He was already panting, but he stayed still. I understood why a second later. His phallus throbbed inside of me with every beat of his heart, but didn't retract. My entrance stretched until tight, skin tore further and blood pooled on the bed under us. Behind my pelvic bone, his knot grew and tied. There was no way it would pull free now. He tugged back, timid at first, then firmer, then hard enough to lift my hips up off the bed and nearly bend my hips and knees backward!

Then the most violent ride of my life began. I sobbed, I screamed, I struggled. I was helpless. Baphomet dragged my pelvis up and down with each thrust, bottomed out and pushed deeper. I felt rips and pops inside as connective tissues tore and skin split. All the while, with every thrust, his fluid gushed from him in a torrent to mingle with blood and my, admittedly intense, lust.

It did not end. Minutes passed, tens of minutes, then over an hour. The pool of fluids welled around my feet and puddled off the end of the bed. I could hear it dripping between the beast's growls and the slap of flesh on flesh. I came for him, even more intensely than I had the night before. An overwhelming tide of waves that left me mindless after each crest. I hurt, there was no question of that. Old wounds were opened, new wounds formed. My throat was a bloody mess where his teeth gouged and scraped. My breasts bled, my vagina was a wreck. No one would ever dream of using it again, I knew.

And then, at last, it ended. His ejaculation continued, thicker, faster, and with greater throbs than before, but his thrusts ceased and he fell limp atop of me, nearly too heavy to allow breath. I basked in the afterglow and agony, cherished it, and cherished my servitude. He had finished with one appetite, and I knew the next would return. I tried to mentally prepare myself to be torn limb from limb. Would he tear open my gut and feast on my organs? Wasn't that what canines did first? I'd still be alive, watching. What would it feel like? Pain was without question, but would I feel tugging as things I'd never felt were torn free? My sex clenched down on his knot, somehow the muscles remained intact. A splatter of fluids poured from me as I did. He was shrinking.

A few minutes passed and he gave an experimental tug. My hips rose, tied by the pelvis. Another few minutes, he tried again, and this time… I screamed myself hoarse as his knot forced its way past my pelvic floor and tugged down. He didn't pull free, not yet, my entire vaginal passage followed him. I felt it slide from me, like a slippery sock, still tied around his knot even as he pulled himself out. I stared down between us, stared at the six inches or so of torn, bleeding skin, stretched tight like a drum around him. He jerked a few times, my hips were tugged up by the inverted muscles and tendons within. Another jerk, and at last the knot was pried free and my prolapsed passage fell limp to the bed. A torrential gush of fluids drained from it. Pink and creamy. The stench of blood and animal semen was overwhelming. I realized I was hyperventilating again.

His huge head lowered as he stepped back and he pressed his nose into my ruined genitals. I felt his sloppy tongue lick up, into the everted tube and slap it up against my stomach flab. There it stuck, and laid, the cream stained tip pointed at my navel and drooled into it. He licked again from my anus, up, along the underside and down again. It flopped once more against the bed, and he delved his tongue inside. I climaxed once more. No rolling wave this time, but a bone shaking thunderous blast of sensation that rocked me to my core. I screamed once more as his tongue slathered my cervix, also distended, outside of my vulva, yet still in the flabby sock of vaginal passage.

"G-Go ahead," I told him as the crashing pleasure faded, "am I delicious? S-stop teasing me and just take a bite."

"Mmh… Sorry kid, I may have lied a bit. He's not a people eater and I fed him this morning before you woke up. Just wanted to rattle your cage a bit."

I glanced over the dog as he tongue bathed my ruined depths and stared at the man. He was still masturbating, fingers glistening with precum. "Thank you," I told him, and meant it.

"You're cracked," he replied and grinned. "Well, my turn." He clicked his tongue, made a short sharp whistle, and Baphomet stepped back and settled to the floor a few feet away, tongue lolling out. Had I ever really seen him as terrifying? He was a lapdog. I glanced back at the man as he rose and settled his knees in the sloppy mess of the mattress. He reached down and pushed my prolapsed sex back into me, just enough, then sank his member inside. He sighed, smiled, and leaned in to me. His arms curled around, under my back, and he pressed his head to my bloody shoulder.

"This is what you're into? Sloppy seconds from your dog?" I asked, amused.

"That's right. We share everything. He goes first, I go second."

I pointed out, "But you went first, last night."

"Extenuating circumstances. Obviously. He'll never know."

"Because you washed me."

"Because I washed you."

I leaned my head down and pressed my cheek to his. His hips rose and fell, member sloppy in my passage, more and more blood and semen pouring from me with each gyration. "can I stay?"

"Nah. I've got no use for a girl around here. Don't think you'll be able to take him a second time either. Maybe anal? How do you feel about your colon dangling around your knees? Or oral… no you'd suffocate and break your jaw. Probably cut him on a tooth too."

I nodded slightly, "Suppose your right. But I'm willing. Once he's done with all of my holes, just dump me on the side of the road somewhere. I won't last long."

"Thought you weren't suicidal anymore."

I nuzzled at his ear and whispered, "I'm not. But it'd be a worthy fate. I'd be grateful to you both."

"Sorry, not a murderer. Can't say you'll ever be the same, but you're not dying on my watch. Perforated colon isn't a pleasant way to go, and hard to fix without a hospital. I'll pass."

His thrusts grew faster, breath harder. It was unlike the time before, there was intensity, urgency, and eagerness that he'd always lacked. "You're really into this, sloppy seconds thing, aren't you."

"If you're asking for an explanation, sorry, don't have one. Is what it is." He shuddered and sank in again, hip to hip, crushing my labia between. "Now pipe down and let me enjoy myself."

"Sure, sorry," I replied, timidly, and just enjoyed the slow steady pleasure amongst the sea of hellish agony. Quicker and quicker he thrust, until he was rocking me up and down on the mattress and knocking the breath from my lungs. Then it ended with a cry of pleasure that bordered on pain, and his body collapsed atop me, almost the same as the dog.

A moment later I felt Baphomet's tongue slither in between us, into my passage, and began to clean his cock and my sex together. I lost control then, pushed to the edge by his thrusts, and beyond by the dog. My own cry echoed after his, then I went near limp, only disturbed by the aftershocks triggered by the ministrations of canine tongue. What a strange pair they made.

7

His boot landed under my rear and I went tumbling down into a ditch. With a sack tied over my head I just barely managed to catch myself without injury. Above, I heard the truck door slam while I rolled to a stop in the bottom, face down in elbow deep in mud. The vehicle pulled away with a crunch of gravel, abandoning me. Once the sound had faded into the rush of wind and call of birds, I sat back on my knees and reached up. It took some time to undo each knot and once I was free of it, I took a breath of fresh air and looked to the brilliant blue sky. It was over.

I climbed the ditch back to the top and looked either direction. I knew roughly where I was, a good five miles outside of town on a back woods road. I began to hike. Deep within, I felt the lodged plug shift back and forth with each step, held in place by a leather strap. That was all that kept my insides, inside now. My stomach also jutted out, much thicker than before, but the fat roll had diminished by the same ratio. I was full in so many wonderful ways. I laid a hand to my belly with a beaming grin and felt a kick, then another. It was time to go home.

After an hour hike I reached my porch steps. It took a few minutes before I worked up the courage, but at last I turned the latch and entered. House was quiet, not well kept, and dark. I found my mother curled up on the couch with a box of tissues. I sat down beside her and laid a hand to her thin shoulder, and just waited. She didn't stir for a while, and I could smell the stale odor of alcohol on her, but I forgave her that. My fault anyway.

Her eyes opened and flitted to my face, they widened, then narrowed. "Mandy? What… How…" I smiled down at her and gave her a genuine hug for the first time in years. She broke down then into sobs against my chest, and I let her. I soothed her hair back, straightened some tangles, and waited for her to calm.

When the sniffles had stopped and she seemed more clear headed, I told her, "Good to see you. I've been away a while. Can't really explain, but I'm back."

"C-Can't explain? What kind of sick…"

I touched a finger to her lips, "You will never know. Just accept it. I'm home now, that's what matters." I laid her hand to my stomach and added, "And you're going to be a grandmother."

Epilogue

The man eyed the scratched markings on the urinal stall, "I NEED BJ PRACTICE, text me" and a number. He was on his way through town and stopped to fuel up and take a leak. Getting off wasn't a bad idea, maybe a stop for lunch too? Could be a prank, but he wouldn't get his dick wet if he didn't try! He shook himself off, zipped up, then punched in the number, "Offering oral? How much?"

A few seconds passed, then someone started typing back. "Free. Just need practice. I'm at work over at walmart. Meet me in 10 between the dumpsters out back?"

He scoffed, dumpsters? He'd never imagined such a crude bitch. And free? She was probably diseased anyway. "You should charge, you'll drive away all potential customers otherwise." But maybe not… maybe just desperate.

"Fine, $20 then. Just don't get my uniform messy."

Ten minutes later he parked his rig in the Walmart parking lot and circled the building. He found the dumpsters, it was quiet though, no one to be seen. He thought for a moment that she had just messed with him, but when he rounded the side, he found her on her knees, mouth open already. She wasn't hideous, and her uniform was neat. She had an intense eagerness to her as well that stirred his loins.

He tossed the twenty down at her knees and stepped forward, "You're an odd one," he told her, then began to unzip and free himself. She didn't reply with words, but leaned forward, buried her face in his fly, and swallowed his cock to the hilt. She did need practice, she wasn't good at it, but she was eager, so very eager. His fingers curled in her hair and pinned her in place as if she might pull away.

A few minutes later, he was empty, drained down her throat. She smiled up at him, a genuine smile. She didn't seem even remotely ashamed of what she had just done. He stepped away, then stopped at a snarl and glanced back. The biggest damn dog he had ever seen stood behind him, yellow eyes fixated upon him in the most vicious glare he'd ever felt.

"Balthazar, stop it!" She snapped sharply, and he sat down and dipped his head. "Sorry Sir, he's still following me to work every day even though he knows he should stay home with Grandma."

"Holy fuck… Your dog? He's huge."

"You shoulda seen his father. Even bigger. His brothers are all a bit bigger than him too. He's just a mamma's boy, gets all whiny when he's left home. Anyway. Thanks for the practice. Chat me up any time."

"Uhm, sure. I'm only passing through but next time I'm in town I'll do that." He eyed the huge dog and side stepped his way around the dumpster. He almost forgot to zip up his jeans again, but remembered just in time as he turned the corner and left the strange girl and her dog behind. He wasn't sure he'd call on her again, but maybe next time she'd be better.

Faintly he heard her speak, just barely making out the words, "Fine, you can have a turn too, but don't you dare make a mess of my uniform!" Nope, he would certainly not be calling on her again. What a sick bitch.

06/06/2022

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