The Selling of Amy

I flushed…the memory painful and humiliating…but no more humiliating than her ministrations between my tortured buttocks. And so I began.

“W-we were at the drive in…Randy and I. I was watching the show, and he wanted to kiss me. That was okay…I mean…just kissing, but then he wanted more. He wanted to undo my blouse.”

Samantha’s free hand began to caress my bare buttocks, her nail still pressing painfully below. “OOOOO…nasty boy. And then what, Sweetie? Did you let him?”

I paused, the pain building unbearably. “N-not at first," I whined, "but then he was kissing me…and his hand slid under my blouse…and it didn’t seem so bad anymore. So when he reached for the buttons again…I let him. He said I was beautiful, and he started kissing my breasts with my bra on." I hesitated. "Then he reached for the hook in the front. 'You’re so beautiful,' he said, 'I want to see more… please. It’s ok…I would never do anything you didn’t want. I swear.'”

I turned my head. Samantha’s free hand had slid to her own breasts, her fingers massaging slowly between the opened buttons of her suit. “And then?” she whispered, breathlessly.

I cringed at the memory, the pain of her nail forcing me onward. “He released the lever on the car seat and lay it way back…all the way. Then…he started touching me…stroking my nipples… sucking them into his mouth…groaning as he began to slide his hand under my skirt.”

“And you let him, didn’t you Amy. You let him put his big sweaty hands on your pussy, didn’t you?” Samantha panted, her fingers quickening their pace, her nail digging ever harder.

I wailed in frightened indignation. “No! Not at first. I told him to stop…and he did. But then he started licking my breasts again…sucking…and his hand was back again. This time I felt him pressing…you know…his ‘thing’ against my leg.”

Samantha smiled sadistically. “His ‘thing’, Amy? Say it Dear…I want to hear it. What thing?” she persisted, her nail drawing yet another drop of blood.

“H-his…his…” I stammered…

“COCK! It’s his cock. SAY IT!”

I shivered in pain as she drove her nail home once more. “Yes…his…cock, “ I whispered, ashamed at what I was saying.

“Continue,” Samantha purred in satisfaction. “I want it all.”

Crying softly, I continued. “He kept stroking my thigh, and I kept asking him to stop. Finally, he started running his fingers underneath the crotch of my panties. I started to cry, but he said it was okay, that I could trust him…to relax, that nothing was going to happen that I didn’t want to happen.

“And did you want it to happen, Amy? Did you want his big nasty cock inside of you?” she questioned breathlessly.

“No…I didn’t,” I wailed. “But suddenly he wouldn’t stop! He took his…cock…out of his pants, got between my legs and tore my panties off! I tried to scream, but he stuffed them into my mouth and tied them there with a piece of cord from the floor. He held my wrists! He wouldn’t let me go!”

Once more I turned my head. Samantha was in a frenzy now, her free hand working frantically beneath the waistband of her skirt. “Was he hard? Were you wet…did you want it? Did he hurt you, Baby…did you bleed?”

“Ohhhhh…” I wailed, sobbing against the cold metal surface. “Yes…it hurt! So much…it hurt! But he just shoved it into me…pounding harder and harder while I tried to get free. He had his eyes closed…and his face…like someone I didn’t know. I didn’t want him to! I kept struggling, but he had me pinned…I couldn’t move. Then he…”

“Then he WHAT?” Samantha yelled, her voice harsh and urgent. “TELL ME!”

I gasped at the guttural intensity of her voice. “He---he started to shake and make all kinds of noises…and I could feel him…hot and wet….inside of me…all over my thighs.”

“Oh, yes…YES!” Samantha gasped, her nail jabbing uncontrollably now as her body shivered beneath her red suit. “Oh Baby…and you liked it…didn’t you…you loved it…it made you so hot…” she moaned, laying her body atop mine, her tongue tracing my spine.

I was wailing now…the pain…the pain! “No!” I sobbed “I didn’t! He promised he wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to! I trusted him! But he said I was 'wet'…that he knew I really wanted it. He said that he hadn’t broken his promise…and then he was hard again. He reached for me and I jumped out of the car. I walked home. I broke up with him the next day, and I never let anyone ‘touch’ me again.”

Broken and ashamed, I cried uncontrollably against the cold unyielding surface. My tears bringing a slow smile to my tormentors' faces. I would find no solace here, I knew…only pain and debasement.

Weakly, I lowered my head and sobbed.

Chapter II

Tony, for that appeared to be the Suit's name, had been more than a receptive audience to the whole scene. His pants, now distorted immeasurably, stood out in crude relief before him… his hand rubbing slowly against the ominous bulge between his legs.

His smile, cold and menacing, now took on new dimensions as he crossed to the far side of the table and began to untie my wrists. With a grunt he reached forward, and with rough jerking motions, yanked my bra and dress over my head and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor at his feet.

Then, circling behind me, he took a roll of Duct tape and bound my arms…hand against elbow…tightly behind my back until my shoulder blades creaked in pain. I felt his tongue against my right buttock as he bent low, and in short order I found my ankles once more free, my panties hanging limply between my thighs.

"On your knees, Bitch!" he ordered, his hand twisting painfully in my hair.

Relentlessly he forced me downward until I found myself on the cold cement floor, my face pressed against the metallic teeth of his zipper.

I cringed. Did he want me to…

He reached down, taking my painfully bruised cheeks in his hands. "Open your mouth, Bitch. I've got something for you," he laughed. "And you'd better play nice...no teeth, or you'll wish you'd never been born!"

My stomach began to revolt. I couldn't! Even when Randy had asked, I hadn't placed his (that word again!) "cock" in my mouth! Oh please…let me be wrong…let me be wrong….

But I wasn't.

Slowly Tony slid his zipper downward, reaching inside with his right hand and releasing his huge, heavily engorged sex.

"OPEN YOUR MOUTH!" he ordered once more, mashing my closed and trembling lips against his hardened flesh. "NOW!"

Again he twisted my hair, tearing at the roots until I felt that surely it would all come away in his hand. My lips parted, an exclamation of pain escaping into the room…and that was when he entered me.

Roughly he forced me against him, his swollen member thrusting savagely into my throat, the musky smell of him filling my nostrils. I gagged, my body revolting under his assault, the gorge rising into my mouth.

Suddenly, uncontrollably, I began to vomit, the foul smelling offal flowing from my lips down the front of Tony's pants…across my breasts…down into the panties cupped between my knees.

"You fuckin' Bitch!" he screamed, backing away from my quivering form. "Look what you did! Do you know how much this suit costs? A hell of a lot more than you do!" He lashed out with his right foot, catching me squarely in the stomach, and I fell against the floor, lost in a world of airless anguish.

Livid with anger, he tore the panties, fouled and rank from my helpless body and shoved them into my mouth, securing them with a length of duct tape.

"You're gonna pay for that, Bitch! He snarled, wiping the flecks of my vomit from his suit with my dress. "I'm gonna make you beg to suck me next time…and you will. Believe me. Before I'm done you'll think this prick is the best thing that ever happened to you!" he grinned sadistically. "Throw her in the box," he ordered.

Suddenly I felt myself being dragged to my feet…slender fingers forcing me forward until I was bent over and shoved abruptly into what appeared to be a packing crate about five feet high and eight feet long. The "door" was then slammed shut behind me, and I heard a lock click into place.

It was dark inside…a world of blackness, the air stale and thick. I tried to stand, but found the height too confining…the naked flesh of my back abraded by the rough, slivered surface of the wood above.

And so I sat…my cowering form pressed into a corner…my mind searching the inky blackness for a glimpse of light…the sound of humanity beyond…but it seemed hopeless.

Time passed. How long? An hour? A day? Longer?

My mouth, fouled by the taste of my panties became pasty, my throat painfully dry…the air around me stifling and heavy. I closed my eyes. Would they return? Had I been left here to die? Was this, then, the revenge to which Tony had alluded?

Fitfully, I slept, moaning softly against the gag which tormented my lips and tongue. When I awoke, I found that something, either the moisture from my tears or the occasional dampness of saliva had loosened the tape over my mouth. Frantically I worked my lips against the adhesive until, finally, I felt it give way and fall limply to one side.

Choking, I spat the remains of my once-favorite panties onto the floor of the crate, their allure now tarnished and forgotten. "Hello?" I called, the sound of my voice dry and strangled. "Is anyone there? Please…answer me…" I cried.

I sat in silence…listening…listening…until finally from out of the void came a sound.

"Hello?" it taunted. "Is anyone there…there…there?"

The Voice, hollow and remote, echoed through the gloom, sending unknown fear throughout my body. My skin prickled.

"Hello?" I called again, almost fearing the response.

And again the unearthly echo resounded around me…"Hello?" (a low chuckle). "Hello…hello… hellooooo…"

I pressed my body against the back of the box, struggling once more against my bonds, defenseless against the Voice that invaded my mind

In desperation I tried one last time. "Who are you?" I whispered. "Can you help me?"

This time the Voice was close…whispering in my ear…caressing my quivering flesh. "Who…are…you…" it mimicked. "Who…are…you…help…me…help…me…"

Again I whimpered. Was I going mad? Had I lost my mind? How long had I been here…how long since I'd had anything to eat or drink? Was this what it felt like to die?

Time wore on…how long I never knew. Eventually a small portal appeared within the dim recesses of my tomb, a tiny opening through which a crust of bread and the hard, metallic nozzle of a hose were thrust, its cold offering drenching me, but keeping me alive. Throughout this ordeal the voices, ever present, mocked me incessantly… decrying my lack of human contact…reveling in my terror as they whispered vile torments against my quivering flesh until I was certain that I must once again join the living or lose my mind.

During this period, my body, starved and dehydrated, had failed to function in it's normal capacity, and I was at least spared the ignominy of having to relieve myself in the black confines of my prison…but this was not to last. Eventually, even that became a torment as the need to urinate became more and more a demand, fairly screaming in my ears, causing my stomach to cramp and tiny trickles to escape down my thighs.

Again I braved the darkness…the voices… and leaned against the doorway, my parched lips pressed against the wood, hoping for a miracle.

"Please," I whispered, "Please…I have to…pee. Please…can you let me out!"

(silence)

"Please!" I begged, as my stomach began to cramp painfully…"PLEASE…let me out…I can't…."

A sound?

Could there be someone out there, or were my voices playing tricks on me once again? I shivered at the thought, another tiny gush slipping between my thighs and pooling on the floor between my knees.

Finally, I heard the rapping of heels on the pavement beyond. Stephanie? Could it be the sadistic woman in red who had so painfully degraded me upon my arrival?

Suddenly I heard the lock click…the door being wrenched outward, and I was at once blinded by the light of the outside world.

The glare, painful at first, soon became secondary as I was dragged to my feet by my captor, her hands grasping my hair, slipping a vile-smelling hood over my head, leading me painfully from the box.

She spoke not a word as she lead me across the floor, until final a door opened and I felt the coldness of ceramic tile beneath my feet. Again I was propelled forward until her hands, long-nailed and chill, forced me down upon the seat of a toilet.

I wanted to pee…needed to pee, but suddenly the vision of Stephanie, her hand down the front of her skirt, filled my mind, and my body refused to obey my command. Was she watching? Was I again a source of …amusement? Dare I ask for a second's worth of privacy?

"I-I c-can't, " I whispered. "Could I be…alone…for just a second…please?" I whined.

Stephanie (for that's who it was), chuckled, her voice low and seductive. "What's the matter, little girl? Can't do it with an audience? Here…let me help you…"

Suddenly I smelled her perfume…close…against me… her hand thrust between my legs…her fingers parting my auburn thatch…probing…violating…

"In my hand, Amy…NOW!" she demanded. "It's that, or you can do it in your box, Bitch! DO IT!"

At the mention of my 'box' my muscles released, and in a hot, steaming gush my urine flowed into Stephanie's hand.

"Come on, " she urged, "I know you have more…keep it coming, you nasty girl…I want it all."

I felt a flush of humiliation creep across my face beneath the hood. I'd been used again…once more fodder for this sick, sadistic woman's desires. Would this ever end? Would Stephanie ever…"

"Playing nicely, girls?' a male voice commented. Tony! I'd have known his voice anywhere. He chuckled, his voice dusky with intent. "Why this little girl is filthy, Stephanie! We need to keep our merchandise in good condition. Get me the hose."

Dimly, I heard the staccato of Stephanie's heels against the tile as Tony removed the hood and grasped my hair, pulling me from the toilet cubicle. His hands, large and brutal, propelled me across the room, pressing me face-first against the cold tiled wall beside a urinal.

The light… glaring and painful, pierced my consciousness as be began stripping the tape from my arms. Finally, free at last. I gasped at my good fortune. I was being released…or was I?

"Hose her down," he ordered, and immediately I felt the icy blast of the hose once again…this time shooting full-force against my tender flesh…tearing in thin cutting streams against my face…my breasts…between my legs. I turned against the wall to protect myself, and felt the force of the stream penetrate savagely between my buttocks.

I gasped…a scream of both shock and pain permeating the tiled chamber. Then Tony, his clothing folded and laying neatly on the countertop on the far side of the room, approached me once more.

"Are you a dirty girl, Amy?" he murmured against my hair, his hands pressing me against the cold wall, my breasts squashed painfully against the tile. "Shall I clean you up…or would you like to go back to your box now?" he asked, his voice mocking…taunting.

I shivered…THE BOX! I couldn't! The voices…the darkness…

"Yes," I whispered through my chattering teeth. "…clean…me.'

"Then ask me nicely, Bitch!" he grumbled. "Or better yet…beg."

I cringed, a small revolution being waged within me…but I couldn't go back...I couldn't. The black desperation of my confinement whispered in my ears. "The Box, Amy…The Box…", and I knew what I had to do.

"Please, Tony…please. Clean me…I'm begging you…I want it. Please…help me."

A pause.

Then, from somewhere nearby I heard the tear of paper, then the smell of something familiar. Soap? Irish Spring? I whimpered…something from home…here…in hell. How could it be?

His left hand against the back of my neck, Tony pressed me once more against the wall and began to roughly slide the soap over my shoulders and down the length of my back. Then he came to my buttocks.

"Spread your legs, Bitch," he ordered, forcing the bar of soap along the crack between my cheeks. "And smile…I'm doing you a favor!"

Visions of the box began to taunt me once more as I slid my right leg to the side and allowed his vile fingers to thrust deep within the crevice of my body, a grim smile pasted across my ravaged face.

"Nice ass, Bitch. I like," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Now turn around and keep 'em spread."

Trembling, I turned to find Tony, his massive "cock" ( for I had ceased to think of it as anything but "cock" at this juncture) fully erect and straining for release. I shivered. Could I do what was expected of me…could I?

Again Tony began to slide the bar of Irish Spring across my body, massaging my breasts, sliding his brutal hands over my nipples…pinching and twisting beneath the thin guise of hygiene.

Then, a sadistic smile curling his lips, he shoved the bar of soap between my legs once more, first lathering my curly patch, then thrusting savagely deep inside.

I cried out both in surprise and humiliation. "NO! DON'T!" I screamed, attempting futilely to suppress the words as they escaped my lips. But it was too late.

"Don't?…DON'T!" he roared.

"I'm sorry…" I cried. "Please…I'm so sorry!" But Tony was no longer listening. Instead, Samantha began rinsing the soap from my body and attaching a heavy collar to my neck…leather with steel rings inset into the center. Then, turning me once more toward the wall, she bound my wrists behind and attached a short leash…securing it to the collar above, twisting my hands painfully upward until they throbbed in misery.

"So…you still think you're too good for all of this..." Tony murmured, his voice bare and naked in the echo of the room. "We'll see what another tour of duty in the box will do for you…but first…"

Frantic, I began to plead…beg for another chance. I turned, and falling to my knees, I opened my mouth hoping that the act I had so reviled would prove to be my salvation. But Tony was not to be placated. Instead he stood before me, his hand working slowly along the length of his cock…murmuring "…too late, Bitch…too late."

Suddenly a flood of hot slime shot forth from his cock, filling my eyes, covering my nose and mouth…dripping from my chin onto my breasts. Once more I cried out in humiliation, but he only laughed.

"Take her to the other box," he ordered, "…and leave her there."

Chapter III

Already the voices called to me as Samantha dragged me across the floor, her hand clutching the short length of leash which stretched taut against my spine.

The box, the new one, was smaller than the first…more coffin-like in appearance, measuring approximately four feet tall and six feet in length. A fitting place to die, I considered as the voices drew me in once more…or to go mad.

Again time began to fade, replaced by the taunting murmurs of my constant companions.

"Why didn't you let him touch you?" they hissed. "Would it have been so bad? Would it have been worse that this?"

I shuddered….how could I shut them out? Would I ever be free of them again? Would I ever be free at all?

"Do it, Amy…beg…plead," they urged. "Do whatever you have to do to survive…to live. Do it…do it….do it…"

An anguished cry tore from my lips as I spotted the hose, thrusting through the tiny aperture at my feet… beginning to drip into the box.

"Tony!" I screamed, throwing my body against the door. "Please…ohhh..please! Let me…let me! I'll do what you want! I'll do anything! I'm begging you…please!"

(a pause)

"Tony," I howled once more…"Please…oh, please!" I whispered. I…want it…I want it. I'm begging you, Tony…let me!"