A secret Victoria

How long had she been out? That was the question pounding in Victoria's skull as she came to on the cement floor of wherever she was. She didn't know how she got there, but she imagined that she knew who had brought her there, tied her wrist to whatever unmovable object they were tethered to, gagged and blindfolded her and then disappeared. Victoria West had started this evening like many Thursday nights before it. There had been work, then drinks with the girls from the office – and a quick trip home to change into less work appropriate attire before heading out with the "after hours" crowd of women from her building. The quick shower and refresh of make up had gone fine, and she'd even been able to (somewhat) quickly find something to wear, in fact, everything she needed to do to get to the half empty parking deck on time to meet the girls had gone to plan.

"A couple of quick dashes of eyeliner and a new lipstick smile and we're....set" she said to herself, finishing her make up off in the mirrored door of the elevator on the way to parking level 6. It was a monumental feat, this level of preparation and readiness so soon after the many long island ice team necessary to wash away the busy work days. She'd even managed to look extra sexy tonight, hoping that some beau would whisk her away from the normal scene of "players, dogs and bar rats," that would usually occupy her attention on such a night. She'd chosen a particularly mini-black mini skirt and little green top that showed off just enough belly to prove that those early morning palates were worth her time. But the real kicker was her boots, she'd found a pair of amazing half-calf black leather boots on her lunch break that afternoon, and after a quick moment of financial reorganization (prioritizing boots over, say, food for the next two weeks) – she had made off with her booty. These particular boots had warranted every last meal, the overrated electricity and water she may have to sacrifice...

"I mean, look at them, they're better already that the last two guys who took me home..." she mused to the register wrangler, half attempting to convince her that her purchase would be worth the substitution of a bus ride over driving to work for at least the last three days of next week. All of the doubt and uncertainty melted away as she slid the zipper up to the crest of the boots – the stockings and garters she'd chosen poking out from the base of the mini. She needed all the self confidence and reinforcement she could get, she'd always been "that friend with the great personality," not that she was even "plain" by most standards; she had all the makings of a beauty queen – porcelain, flawless skin, shoulder length red hair (which, okay, Lady Clairol had certainly helped "redden" but just as emphasis), and a cute, if not slightly buxom body. It wasn't her looks, it had been her somewhat cold view of sex and even physical intimacy that had made her the outcast in most social circles. She'd had some relationships, even a pretty serious one – but she could never shake the idea that once people got too close, they didn't like what they found. She'd worked hard since her break up 17 months ago to flatten the tummy, fluff the tush, lift the tits and work other miracles of gravitational amazingness – and her reflection in that elevator door had all but congratulated her for all her efforts, punctuated of course, by her brand new boots.

As the bell chimed and the doors slid open, Victoria was greeted with an empty parking deck devoid of most of the cars that would normally filled its bay. In fact, her car had been the only one she could see from the skewed view of the elevator, and as she walked toward it, only clearing the elevator doors, had she seen her would-be attackers. There were four men, all in their early 20's, dressed in the way that young men in their twenties dress, t-shirts and jeans the lot of them. The two youngest looking males were white, both sporting goatees and concert t-shirts. The first one she'd gotten a closer look at – he was definitely younger than the rest, but had that "I don't give a shit" look about him that aged him well into the group...the other white guy wasn't in clear view – she could tell he had an large physique – but to describe his face would have been impossible from that vantage point. There was a large Hispanic man, wearing a wife beater under a half buttoned bowling shirt – the garments barely containing the mans muscle mass, she had joked to herself that it was assuredly not an accident. The fourth man was the oldest looking of the bunch, maybe even 30, but the largest – a huge black man, his frame put his shoulders above the top of her head, his legs looked to be as big round as her torso. He was dressed to the 9's, donning a pair of black slacks and jacket, a white button down with white tie underneath – his features were the ones she remembered most. The black man seemed to be the ring leader of the bunch, his back had been turned and only pivoted to look at her as he got the eyeball and nod from his cohorts. The three other men had noticed her walking out of the elevator, and stopped their conversation to gawk, she'd half thought one of them had been in mid-sentence when the quiet washed over them. Thinking back, she considered that they were talking about whatever sexual conquest whichever had conjured up, and must have been embarrassed when they saw her walk out of the elevator within earshot. She hadn't made eye contact, she'd looked the group over, decided that they were themselves rallying for a night out on the town – and continued toward her car.

"Damn sweety, those are some nice boots," a voice broke the sound of her boot steps on the cement garage floor. Without thinking she'd turned to face them, not knowing what kind or type of facial expression to make, what commentary was necessary.

"Glad you like them," she returned timidly, nervously – standing there like a new born calf.

"Oh, I like them a lot," the large black man spoke, his voice low and gravely, a deep smile cut across his face, ran from ear to ear like the earth splitting from some wretched tremor. His gleaming white teeth glowed from beneath his dark smile, there was such a contrast – his face, his skin was dark – even for a black man...but his gums were bright pink, and his teeth pearly white. She stood there unflinching, not knowing what to say – was her part over, could she just go?

"You need something baby?" He returned, she was stuck – how had she not moved, just kept walking toward the car. The large black man's head cocked to the side, his smile drew deeper, "Yeah, I think you do need something..." he sneered. He'd taken two steps towards her, his legs were long – it'd cut the distance more than she'd estimated and she turned instinctively to get away, but it was too late – two of his friends, the younger white man and the Hispanic man had worked their way around while she'd been transfixed, they stood between her and her car. How had she let this happen? It became painfully obvious that she was uncomfortable, her posture tightened, the her knees drew closer together, her toes pointed at one another awkwardly as the man continued at her. She watched him carefully, feeling stupid for choosing this mini-mini skirt, the garter, the stockings instead of panty hose. She became painfully aware that her ass was nearly exposed and that her belly was in clear view – there was nothing she could pull down or up that wouldn't expose more of her to the four suitors now surrounding her almost completely. Her head darted from right to left, the Hispanic man was flanking her right while the two others were side stepping between her and the car – the large black man still making his way to her, cutting the distance with every step.

"I think you need me and my boys, that's what I think you need sugar..." he hissed, he was nearly on her, and her fight or flight took over. There was a small gap between the man and his friend on her right, the elevator door was still open, if she timed it right – she could just make it between them and ...GO! She took a half step before those large black hands were on her shoulders. It'd seemed like he was further away, how was he on her so quick? How was it that those hands, so big and so black – were wrapped all the way around her arms like handcuffs.

"Oh now girl, don't go away, we're just getting started, don't want you to miss all the fun..." he said into her face, she could feel his breath, smell his cheap cologne – his eyes were dark and smiling at her, he sneered a smile and she felt him move his hands up the length of her arms – his big black hands moving up and down – the cool flesh, chilled by the night air bursting into goosebumps that exploded across her body.

"No get off..." was all she'd managed when the blackness came. There'd been some sound, some thump and it felt like the lights in the parking garage had flickered. But it wasn't the lights, it was consciousness – her waking state that had flashed and was now flickering...and when the darkness came, it felt like she'd fallen backwards into a pool of water. All the worry melted away, she'd actually had a dream about Derek, who'd broken up with her those 17 months ago, how he had been tender and gentle, how they'd made love and he was always caring and attentive to her needs. In fact, in this moment of revelation, it'd become all the more clear to her that she'd broken up with him more than he'd broken it off with her, she'd forced her weird sexual hangups on him – and it was more than he could take – she realized that he hadn't as much run away as she had pushed up.

"God Vic, it's not like I'm asking you to have sex with me in public," I just want to have sex with the lights on for Christ's sake," had been the last screaming match debate. She'd always been uncomfortable with her body, losing 30lbs from freshman year of college to senior year had left her with a flat little tummy and big boobs, and she'd never reconciled the idea that she was always going to be more amazon woman than dainty petite flower. That he'd demanded to want to see her during sex, more so than just the hall light adding a subtle glow to the room had sounded ridiculous – surely he was angling just to see so he could make fun of her. She'd been teased and poked and prodded her whole life, why should he be any different.

Then the pain came, the pounding in her skull, the dry rag stuffed in her mouth that tasted like blood and pennies, the blindfold pulled tight over her eyes was squeezing her skull and worsening the pounding at the back of her eyeballs. Where on earth was she?

Victoria had always had a sense of her surroundings, even as a girl playing Marco Polo in the swimming pool – she could always imagine exactly where she was in relation to the ladder, the stairs, the diving board and the sides. It made her uneasy that she was so completely unaware of where she was, what she was tied to and if she even had any clothes on.

"Mphhmmmm" was all she could muster through the dirty dry rag in her mouth. She'd meant to say, "god, don't let me be naked," at least, that's how it sounded in her head – but the words were locked away behind the gag. Where was she, how had she gotten here, where were the four guys that undoubtedly had bounded and gagged her and tied her to whatever this thing was. She pulled hard at her wrists and found them tied tightly together and tethered to something else, something large and steel and heavy that was attached to the floor, as she ran her hands up and down it – she could feel the large bolts, the hard metal edges – it was some sort of beam or girder protruding from the floor. The floor, it was cement, how did she know that – she was terrified and all at once realized the answer was that she could feel it on her bare bottom. Scooting her ass back and forth confirmed that it was indeed bare, breaking the hope that her skirt had just been pulled up – upon further tussling and wriggling, she found too that her bare breasts were exposed, that she was naked...and as she kicked her feet – she felt for the first time in all the evening relief, that at least her boots and likely stockings were still on.

"Sorry about that bitch, we had to lose the skirt and the shirt, but them boots was just too pretty – so we thought we'd let you keep those." The black mans voice hissed from nowhere, there was an echo – but he was definitely in the room with her, close by, but not too close. "We wanted to get a look before we had a tasted you know, and man oh man...is it a great view," he finished...the voice still far away, that she was both surprised and terrified when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Oh god, there was someone behind her, and then a second hand on her legs, pulling them down flat against the ground – two hands, someone else was in front of her. A third set of hands reached out through the abyssal darkness and moved around the back of her head, taking a large clump of hair in a vice like grip – pulling her head back causing her to gasp.

"Now listen bitch, Marco here is going to take that gag out so you can....well...just don't scream, or Teddy here, he'd cut your fucking throat," The large black man's voice rang through the room. The fist in her hair kept even hold, unflinching, they waited for her reply.

"Mphhhuummmhhuuuu" she tried, nodding her head obediently. She felt two large fingers dart in her mouth at the corners, there was pressure – the rage must have been stuffed in there tight, as the hand pulled and tugged – the rag came free and a blissful gasp escaped her lips, without even catching that breath she started,

"Please, please just let me go...I don..." she started talking, but quickly turned to a whimpering cry.

"...I...don't....don't rape me..." she finished timidly, sobbing through the last words.

The two hands on her legs moved to the knees, pushing pressure on the inside pushing her thighs and calves up off the floor – her knees moving toward her shoulders, she could feel the bare cold cement floor against her vaginal lips.

"Oh god, Oh god ....no...don't..." She started to whimper, a large hand moved over her throat from her shoulders – all at once encircling at least the front half of her neck....the whimpering stopped, she was too scared to cry or make more noise as the grip clenched her windpipe narrower.

"Shut up slut," a new voice came from behind her – this one younger but just as resolute as the black man. "We're going to do whatever we want, and if you're a good girl.....you'll walk away from it." he continued "I mean, you do want to walk away from this right?"

Unable to answer – she nodded quickly and vigorously. All at once, all hands ceased to touch her, she was free, save for the bonds that lashed her hands together – sitting there naked on the cement floor of wherever she was.

"Alright, then, that's good...." the young voice started, he was still behind her, talking into her right ear. All at once his vantage point changed and he was talking into the air in front of her. "So what's up? Who gets to go first?" He asked into her blackness, into the great void that was her prison. There was no response, only the shuffling of fabric. And then two sets of footsteps to her right and left moving further away. "No problem, I wanna fuck this whore's little mouth..." The young voice returned.

She felt the air shift, the warm haze of body behind her disappeared, and suddenly was inches from her face.

"Alright now, you're on my good side, let's keep it that way," the young voice said, now standing over her, talking down – she could hear hear the way it echoed off the floor behind her. "I want you to open your mouth, and swallow whatever I put in it, you got it bitch?" The young man demanded.

"But I can..." She started, the whimpering sobbing started again far too quickly, she could feel the tears well up under the blindfold. Suddenly there was a fresh set of hands around her throat, the young man shouted, "and if you bit me you fucking slut, I swear to god I'll take a fucking crowbar and knock all your teeth down your throat, see if you get to marry a dentist after he gives you dentures," he finished, his breath was hot and smelled of certs, he'd been close enough that she could feel a little spit on her cheek as he berated her. A little nervous nod was all she could return, and at the same time – timidly opened her mouth.

His cock was long and skinny. That was what she thought at first, he wasn't all the way hard, he was in that in between state when all the blood had started to rush to it – but it hadn't been all the way rigid. He started by sliding in the head between her lips, the she could feel him jerking the shaft against her chin. It was gentle at first, and then harder – each slip causing his fist to pound against her chin as his cock's head grew bigger in her mouth. He tasted salty, dirty, like he'd been off running a marathon....as he grew more and more erect, the jerking subsided – and instead, he pushed his hips forward so that more of his dick moved in her mouth.

"Oh baby, that's good – fuck that cock with your goddamn mouth, good little cocksucker...." he wailed, sliding his member deeper and deeper into her mouth – the head of his cock hitting her in the back of the throat. She gagged the first time it happened, she hadn't realized that his cock was going to be so long and had overestimated just how far back she'd have to lean to avoid getting choked to death – she'd pulled her head back just a touch, when she felt his hands grip her head and hair firmly.

"Bitch where you going, I wanna fuck your throat," he laughed as he pulled her face all the way against the mass of pubic hair on his pelvis. She felt the cock head move down her throat, and as he pulled back – she gagged hard and vomited, all over his cock.

"Ohh, that's fucking hot, puke on my dick if that's what it's going to take – I'm going to fuck that throat," he said laughing...she could feel him step around the puddle that was assuredly all over the floor, and she felt humiliated thinking about how she must look – sitting there blindfolded with some guy fucking her face, gagging her, making her puke all over him just so he could shove his big dick down her throat further. All at once, his cock was back in her mouth – he was furiously pounding her face, and she thought for sure she was going to end up with a broken nose from all of the pressure put on it when he slammed his cock in her mouth. Further and further down her throat his cock would go, each time meeting with a fresh gag, a gasp for air. Luckily she'd only had the one dose of long island ice tea's tonight so all that came up when she gagged was his cock slobber, a mixture of the sweaty, salty saliva from his cock and the pre-cum that was drenching her mouth.

He pounded her mouth and throat relentlessly for the next three or four minutes, each thrust now a full pull out and push in at her mouth. She found that if she stuck her tongue out, the cock more easily slid down her throat and gagged her less. She was overcome again of the vision, her there on the cement floor incarcerated, her mouth being used like some sex toy – the big hands on the back of her head pulling her towards, then pushing her away from a strange cock that was oozing and pulsating with pre-cum. She felt used, she felt dirty and wrong and like a slut; there she was, making sure that her tongue was stuck out so the stranger could user her mouth like a fuck toy – even convincing herself by keeping down the gag quotient.

"Oh man, I think I'm going to cum now – get read, this is going down your throat," She was terrified, did he actually think he was going to blow a load down her throat and choke her to death. Her bound hands came up between them, she pushed at his hips, tried to push his pelvis away – get that cock out of her throat before he erupted in her windpipe – but it was too late, the head of his cock was at the back of her throat when she felt the first spurt of come, and he pushed it further and harder until it was all the way down her throat...her head now forced upward so that he could push the full length of the shaft in her mouth. Her tongue stuck out, she was inadvertently licking his balls, her teeth resting on his pelvis – his pubic hair tickling her lips – she felt his cock explode fully and drain down her throat and directly into her stomach. The noise she made wasn't a moan, it wasn't even a pained gag...it was almost the sound of relief, and she made it again when he pulled his cock all the way out of her mouth.