Day One

Sarah was never really into the Gothic scene, she just kinda liked the look. She liked to think of herself as an “inverted” Goth, she bleached her hair instead of dying it black (although her hair was naturally blonde anyway). Sarah also liked the piercings and tattoos, and working in a tattoo parlour made that easy to accomplish.

Sarah thought of herself as “inverted” because she was not usually depressed and she didn’t go around looking like she lived in the pit of despair. In fact her tattoos reflected that. She had a tattoo of an ankh on her upper left arm and a tattoo of an eagle with spread wings on her lower back. The eagle was so large that its wings spread around her waist, the tips reaching just above her hips, the tail pointing down between her cheeks.

Sarah had thought about getting tats in more intimate areas but she didn’t trust her employer. Her boss, Bob, intimidated her, despite the fact that Sarah was about 5’10”, and therefore taller than Bob by a foot. Sarah had thought about going to another parlour, but all the other tattooists were the same as Bob.

Bob would also make her more uncomfortable by leering at her whenever he had the opportunity. This in turn seemed to be encouraged by Bob’s wife, Martha, who handled all the piercings. Both of them were big, fat and ugly, which reviled Sarah even more. But she liked her job, and it paid well enough. The only piercings that Sarah trusted Martha with were ear piercings. Sarah wore rather heavy earrings also in the form of ankhs.

Since Sarah usually wore dark, tight midriff tops, and hip skirts, a lot of attention was drawn to her eagle tattoo and invariably, her ass as well. She got many comments from male customers, and a few female ones about her eagle, but she knew what they were looking at. On the day that it happened, one such customer was more than commenting. He was looking with his hands.

As soon as those fingers started trailing down, she knew she had a groper.

“If want one of your own, I’m sure Bob would love to help you out,” she said very dryly, but it worked, and the customer hurried out, his face bright red. Sarah smiled bitterly to herself. Why do I let them touch, she thought.

“Are you scaring away the customers again!?” It was Martha, being the usual she-bear that she was. Sarah just pulled down the dye she was reaching for, and waltzed out the back to deliver it to Bob. Martha came back glowering, but said nothing. Sarah just smiled to herself and returned to the front desk.

She was sure that neither of her employers liked her. Maybe they liked her body, but if they had any choice in that matter, she wouldn’t be working there. The only reason Sarah had her job was because no one else wanted it. Sarah just dwelled in her little victory, unaware that this day was the last.

The day drew on, and turned out to be a very busy day. That is, there were a lot of potential customers. The parlour always had plenty of potential customers, but if they weren’t there to grope Sarah, then Bob or Martha usually scared them off. But Sarah managed to set up a week’s worth of appointments. Whether or not hey would be met, Sarah would never find out.

Six p.m. and time to close up shop. Bob and Martha were always too lazy to take out the trash, so that particular demeaning job fell to Sarah. Sarah always figured that despite the size of their arms, they were just fat, not muscular. Sometimes the waste from making earrings could end up being quite heavy, especially when it went unemptied for several weeks.

Sarah was quite well muscled; tall with a solid frame, so it seemed natural to Bob and Martha that Sarah do the heavy lifting. On that particular day there were many ominous clouds darkening the sky. The alley in which the garbage was dumped housed many shadows. Sarah never really worried, but she always wondered what could be concealed in those shadows.

As she planted a trashcan on the ground, a slight shuffle across from her, startled. It was nothing, but that day was the first when she felt afraid of the alley. She found herself hurrying to escape the grimy alley and back to her apartment. She lived only a few blocks from the parlour, so she always walked home, always along the same route.

She didn’t know, but that was the last time.

* * * * *

Sarah awoke in darkness, groggy, disoriented and with no clue as to her situation. She shook her head to try and dispel her dizziness. She found it only made her head hurt even more. She tried blinking, but felt a curious sensation. She tried again, again, again.

She was blindfolded! She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t work. She was gagged! She tried screaming, but it had no effect. She tried to wriggle about, but she couldn’t feel her limbs. It took several attempts before the blood flowed back into her arms and legs.

She was bound, gagged, and tied to a pole; her legs and arms were aimed straight up, so that she hung like a piece of game, her back parallel to the ground. She had no idea where the ground was! She tried to think. What happened last night? Her thoughts raced desperately, but the memories were clouded.

Clouds. It was cloudy. I was walking home, what happened?. She again tried to scream, but her gag muffled her sounds. Immediately she felt terror creep in. Her body was racked with pain as she sobbed violently into her gag, drowning it with saliva. What happened!? What is happening!!??

She had no sense of time. She cried, it felt like hours, she couldn’t tell. She cried so long that she ran out of water. Then she drifted off to a painful sleep.

* * * * *

Sarah awoke still in a world of torment. Her limbs were numb. Her gag was dripping with saliva. Her back ached from hanging down. Sarah struggled to maintain consciousness. Her head tossed. She tried to make her body respond, but no avail. As she spiralled downward once again, she faintly heard the words,

“I think she had too much.”

* * * * *

Sarah awoke once more, finding her nightmare to be real. The pain that coursed through her was unbearable, but she could no longer afford to pass out. A door. A door opening. Off to her left. Footsteps approaching. She felt certain by the measured pace that it was her captor, not a rescuer.

She strained to turn herself in their direction, but her body would only respond with pangs and aches. Sarah faintly heard a clicking noise. Fear overcame her, what the fuck are they doing?! A chair pulled up at her feet, her ass. Again the clicking noise.

She felt a numb tugging in her groin. Click click. Again the numb feeling, click click. The more she heard it, the more it began to sound like: snip snip. Then the numb feeling, snip snip. Who ever it was, they were trimming Sarah’s pubic hair!

What kind of whacko are you? Then no more numbness, no more snipping. Instead a strange clanging, and swishing noise. Numb pressure on her crotch, in a swirling pattern. Then she felt it. A razor. They were shaving her! Sarah tried vainly to lift her head to look down, but she nearly passed out from the effort.

What are you doing you fucked up freak!? Sarah endured the razor, then the patting on of aftershave cologne. The smell wafted up to her nostrils, oppressive, a man’s aftershave. The numb feeling remained; whoever it was, they were feeling her up. Sarah squirmed, trying to twist her body away from the violating fingers.

They continually probed and stroked her unfeeling flesh. The sensation to Sarah was nerve racking. Eventually, the hands seemed to be satisfied, and her captor exited. Immediately upon hearing the door close Sarah slumped down, unconscious.

* * * * *

Sarah awoke hearing some faint panting, and other curious noises. Then a grunt and a weird splat. A curious smell, and a fly being pulled. Yuk! He came on me! As near as she could tell, his come was on her tits, chest and stomach.

Footsteps heading toward the door. Somehow, Sarah didn’t feel alone. Then a feeling of both warmth and cold numbness on her pussy. Someone was eating her out! The feeling was sickening. Sarah could feel the sloppy tongue, the fingers parting her lips, all through a veil of numbness.

Sarah’s joints ached, her shoulders felt like they might be dislocated, her back was sore from bending down toward the ground. All this confounded her anguish at the thought of some disgusting ugly freak violating her while she was helpless. She began to sob once again, and her captor lost interest in her pussy and left.

Sarah cried herself into the land of dreams.

* * * * *

She awoke feeling someone wiping a wet cloth across her chest, cleaning up the come. Sarah noticed that a lot of the numbness was lessened, but it was still very present in her limbs and crotch. There was something that felt like earmuffs over her ears. What don’t they want me to hear? All she could hear were several muffled voices, all around her.

Then it began. A hand on her breast, squeezing, pulling on the nipple. There was a strange feeling when her nipples were tugged. While she suffered more groping and torment she figured it out. They had pierced her nipples! Sarah almost broke down at the thought of what else they could do to her.

She resolved to go on, despite the continued degrading that she endured under the hands of her many captors. They continued pulling her nipple rings, letting her tits jiggle and bounce when they let them go. Then the hands began running all over her body. Her back was supported, then what sounded like a table was dragged underneath her, and her muscles were able to relax a little.

Then the hands suddenly left her. The sound of many flies going down; belt buckles, shirts, and pants; don’t you fucking dare! Then the hands were upon her once more, groping, fondling in the most grotesque manner. Slimy hands, dripping with lubricant; Sarah sobbed and was mortified when the first dick penetrated her cunt.

That was the last barrier for Sarah, she broke. She could nothing but shake, sob, and squirm as little as she could as she was degraded before so many vile sub-human beings. One after one they pounded her numb cunt, pulled on her nipple rings. And when they were finished they pulled out and came on her face, her chest, and her stomach.

When it seemed that they had all fucked her once, they began fucking her with objects. Don’t you dare ran through her mind as she sobbed and choked on her own tears. They fucked her violently with what felt like broom handles and dildos; both in her cunt and her numb asshole. Continuously they pounded her, reducing her to a sexual receptacle, while her numb body lay helpless.

It felt like hours that they fucked her with objects, recovering their stamina. It was sudden and violent when they pulled out. Then she felt a tugging on her cunt lips. It felt like they had pierced them as well! Not only in both her lips, but also her clit. Sarah’s horror lit up anew as all three rings were pulled and splayed about, twisting her numb pussy.

Then all of a sudden there was one in her ass, his furry balls pressed against her cheeks as he pounded away in her numb hole. When he came in her ass, there was a respite. Then she felt a sharp prick in her leg, a needle. It must be anaesthetic was the only coherent thought in the tumult of her mind.

Her legs suddenly fell from the sky, to dangle limp over the edge of the table. Then her arms likewise freed to fall at her sides. Her whole body was numb, time slowed down. They flipped her over, ass at the edge of the table. Then a dick in her ass, pounding, pounding away. Sarah felt the telltale tingle as someone drew their fingers across her eagle tattoo as they fucked her.

This one pulled out and came on her back, rubbing his come into her eagle. A slap on the cheek and another dick, another, again they came, in her ass, on her back; as Sarah lay unable to even cry any more.

* * * * *

When Sarah next awoke, she was still on her stomach, on the table. The feeling had returned to her arms, but from the waist down she was immobile. Immediately her hands went to her face; gag off, blindfold off, earmuffs off. She shunned at the light coming from above; she spat out the taste of drenched cotton.

When her eyes adjusted, she could see that there was only one light, directly above the table. Littered around the table were several hefty males, unconscious. Sarah struggled; she got herself off the table with a bump on her numb ass. She looked down to examine herself, and almost broke again.

Rings in her nipples; a tattoo of a cross now on her chest, so that the horizontal went under her breasts, and the vertical between her breasts, down her stomach; terminating at a big stud in her navel. She had to part her legs with her hands. What she saw boiled her rage up even more. Her hair was shaved, in its place a tattoo of a heart, pierced by an arrow, with the word veritas written across it.

Sarah sobbed even more at the sight of her red pussy, with three rings through it. Sarah was only brought out of her misery by a noise beside her. She struggled to get to her feet. Support on the table, then she was able to grab the pole above the table. She took stock, nearby was another table, with syringes for anaesthetic, bindings, shaving kit and a gun.

Fervently Sarah attempted to reach the gun, held back by her unresponsive legs. Falling to the floor, she dragged herself to the table, the bodies around her stirring, filling her with dread of not escaping. No more fucking torture you disgusting sadistic pigs! As she reached the table, all she could do was tip it over, then a mad scramble to reach the gun.

Driven by fear, loathing, disgust, hatred and the feeling returning to her legs, Sarah persevered. The prize was hers! Now what? She staggered to her feet. Scanning the room for her clothes, she only spotted a coat hanging near the door. Across the room she stumbled, half-tripping up the stairs to the door.

Success! A key in the lock. Sarah whipped about, bringing the gun to bear on her captor.

It was Martha. Sarah could have thrown up. She also could have lived the rest of her life with the image of Martha’s face as her life drained away. Sarah didn’t even remember firing.

Confused, come and sweat soaked, Sarah stumbled over the fat corpse of her former employer out of what was obviously a basement. Stairs going up. A door with light shining through. It led to a room that was small and covered with pictures of her.

Sarah was dumbfounded! Her! All over the walls, walking home, at the parlour, at the mall, shopping for food. Her life on the wall! Out the small door, shrouded in a heavy coat, into familiar surroundings.

The parlour. Her place of employment. Closed. Outside it seemed to be dark. She looked for the clock. 1 a.m. had all this happened tonight? Phone; police; help is on the way. Someone was coming up the stairs. Turn around; aim the gun.

It was Bob. Sarah couldn’t talk. She choked on the all the words she wanted to say. He violated her. He had changed her life forever; he had printed himself on her like a tattoo. He looked frightened; scared of me Bob?

This is supposed to be day one of the rest of my life! Not for Bob.