My Debut

byBrandie69©

Author's note: I want to warn readers that this is much darker than what you may be used to reading from me. It grew out of my desire to write in as many of the genres available on this site as possible. I have delayed submitting it for quite a long while as I tried it out on some readers privately. In fact, I have toned it down considerably as the result of some feedback I got from the message boards. Everyone involved is over 18. As always, don't hold back in letting me hear from you. And thanks to the guys and girls who previewed this with me. - B

*

I steadied my breathing and reminded myself that this was my choice. My debut. Sure, I had done some solo vids, as a screen test, more or less. Now I was ready to break into a darker genre. The consent form had a list of perversions and I had checked off all of them recklessly before signing it. The director had won a lot of awards and I was lucky to get to work with him.

Now I was naked, spread-eagled, secured by thin ropes with elaborate loops and knots to four iron rings in the floor. I was stretched on a concrete slab in a mostly dark cinder-block place. The woman with the video camera moved around me slowly, emotionless.

I tested my bonds. Nothing. The knots were secure.

It was quiet, and apart from the girl who filmed me, I was alone.

My pussy was sore and my nipples were raw and aching. I raised my head as far as I could and I didn't think I was bleeding down there. My nipples were red and engorged but apart from that there were no marks on my skin. It was nice to have some good news.

I rested back on the slab. Surely my hour was up now.

But the minutes dragged on, and after more uncounted time, panic struck me like ice. I struggled against my bonds again, grunting little sounds escaping me as I sought a way free.

Damn. Nothing. Damn them.

Naked and bound and alone, I felt cold. I lay there trying to relax the muscles that had just fought the ropes. No cramps, no cramps, I chanted to them in my mind.

This did not feel sexy any more. I was not aroused. I was angry, betrayed, used. A whisper of shame passed over me as I thought of the thousands of people watching right now live, streaming on the Internet, and the many more thousands who would download it and watch me later. I wondered if anyone I knew would be among them. I have distinctive features, and let's face it, right now I had nothing to hide.

More time passed and I dozed. When I woke again with a jolt, something was being placed on my eyes. I shook my head "no" but could not prevent stronger hands from binding my sight. One more piece of my dignity ripped from me.

Then, oh my God, oh my God, what the fuck? Liquid fire was assaulting my nipples, dripping down on them too hot for me to stand. I flailed so hard against the ropes that my wrists and ankles were bruised. I tried to relax as the muscles in my stomach and my thighs began to clench. And then the liquid fire trailed down my belly and as my whole body rocked in torment I knew where it was going next. Oh. No. God, not there.

It arrived. I remember screaming.

When I woke, I had no idea how long I had been helpless like that. But now I was on my knees, the side of my face and my shoulders on the rough slab. I felt ropes securing my knees and my ankles. My arms were pulled uncomfortably behind my back, my hands lashed together resting just above my exposed, upturned ass. My breasts were crushed into my thighs, and I was sore in so many places. Something hard was crusted on my aching, swollen nipples, down my belly and on my painful sex, and it pinched me when my skin moved under it.

My head was pulled up then, and I guess it was the cock pressing unwelcome against my lips that had brought me awake this time. I clenched my jaw to resist it.

It was not liquid fire this time, it was a stripe of pure agony across my ass. There was a whoosh and a sickening smack. The price of my mouth's resistance to the cock.

A hand grabbed my hair and jerked me up half-kneeling. I wished for my arms to protect me, to steady me, but I could not move them from my back. My legs uncomfortable now, trembling.

The cock: I conceded; surrendered. I opened myself to it. It pushed in. Large. Firm. Bitter and salt. Deep. Deeper. Too deep. I gagged. It drew back. And then it moved into a rhythm of fucking my mouth. This ... thing... not a blowjob, not something I gave to him. He was taking it from me. I was hogtied and naked, kneeling helpless before him, and he was fucking my face, two hands in my hair holding me. His pre-cum was there in my mouth.

Something hard and warm, a finger, invaded my upturned ass, roughly coating it with something wet and slick. A cock went to invade me there and again I clenched, making the insistent penetration that I could not prevent that much worse.

There was still the dick in my mouth. One man was raping me there. Someone else was taking my anus.

I tried to say "no," but I couldn't. I tried to make myself move so that I couldn't be invaded that way, but I couldn't. It entered me. It violated me. The hard penis in my ass was big, and it hurt me, thick, driving endlessly deeper inside my bowels. It took its pleasure in me. And I could not see back there, did not know who it was.

There was nothing to do but relax as much as I could, make it hurt me the least that I could. The lube on my ass helped me to take what was happening back there, but not being prepared, it never stopped hurting me.

The cock in my throat was not painful like that was but it was no less vicious in tearing my soul. As his unwelcome arousal grew in my mouth, so did the depth of his thrusts in me, again and again to the edge of gagging and choking. Bitter tears soaked the blindfold and trailed down my face, mixing with the saliva that escaped my lips, wetting the concrete beneath me.

A hand left my hair and slapped, hard, on my face. Again. Again. I did not remember that "striking my face" was on the list of nasty things I had agreed to. I whimpered hopelessly against the cock. Why. Please. No. But there were no words, only pain and doubt and gasping vulnerability.

Every moment I endured raw awareness and shame.

I could not compartmentalize it in my mind, push it away, let it happen to another me. These cruel and violent things were happening to me each awful instant. It could not be worse but it kept getting worse.

And then I was furiously trying to keep up with the semen that the cock was pouring into my throat, struggling to keep from drowning. The nasty fluid filled my mouth and flowed out through my lips and down my neck as I fought not to swallow it. He withdrew and more of his semen struck my face. Defenseless, I had to swallow or drown. Foul liquid bitterness burned me with resent.

The other cock driving inside my ass pulled fast and carelessly out, leaving me with yet another raw and abused place. Warm fluid splashed across my back, my bound arms, and up into my hair. My hair. You bastard.

It stopped.

Something, fingers, invaded me, finding someone's moisture there, pinching as some of the hard, clotted coating tore loose by my clit. Oh God, still weren't they done?

Then a thing, a cold, hard thing, replaced the fingers inside me, filling me.

I heard footsteps receding, a distant door closing. And that thing between my legs came on. Vibrating inside. I tried but I could not expel it. Vibrating inside, the feelings were evil, pleasing. Oh God, no. I pushed out a long breath to stop myself from feeling, responding.

The liquid on my back ran cool as it dripped from me, and I fell onto my side, into cold, sticky places on the slab. Disgusted, bereft, damaged, depleted, exposed, I sobbed to near choking, shuddering, aching all over.

The vibrations. I would ignore them. Someone else was breathing raggedly in my lungs, my body, not me. Vibration. Please, dear God, no. Every move as I struggled against it nudged the vibrator against a new needy place in me. I came for so long, then.

When the first hard climax let go of me, the vibrator kept on. Its tickle was less pleasant now, as my rawness returned to the front of my mind.

But there was nothing but my aches and the incessant stimulation inside me. Unwanted, I felt it rising inexorably again, spreading from my thighs. I writhed and cried out in painful pleasure as another orgasm took me, moisture now streaming thickly between my sore legs.

Where were they? What time was it? Had they not taken enough? Had I not given enough?

Oh God please let it stop. I want to go.

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by EdandMarie06/04/14

Not My Usual Cup of Tea...

I was compelled to read this as much from your note as anything. I found it very well written and now that I've finished it, it's the type of thing that can haunt you when you think back on it. It pulledmore...

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