Angel, Demons Pt. 06

When he came, she heard him cry out her name. Feeling his hot goo drool down her chin and leaking on her chest, she sagged to the floor.

A dollar note fluttered down, coming to rest on her face.

She didn't know how long she lay there until a hand grabbed her hair, pulling her up. She groaned and staggered to her knees, automatically opening her mouth.

The man proved to be the first of a second shift - men who, after drinking their beers and champagnes had a more urgent need to empty their bladders than their balls.

The girl gulped and swallowed as hard as she could, but the yellow piss gushed from the corners of her mouth down her chest and belly, dampening the rug she knelt on.

Finally, all the coats were gone.

The umbrella stands were empty. She was alone, surrounded by a cloud smelling of sex and sweat and piss. Her hair lay plastered to her face. Her eyes were dead. Her body shivered from cold now. There was no thought left in her mind.

She smiled, cracking the crusts of dried slime.

"Thank you," she whispered.

***

A girl, flogged.

The woman bound the girl's body with silk ropes and strung her up to dangle horizontally from three sturdy chains.

Her thighs were forced open, wrists and elbows bound on her back and her hair gathered in a tail that was attached to the main chain.

It made the girl's throat arch backwards, forcing her face to look straight out. After each tightly tied knot she made the girl thank her, slapping her face.

When she swung softly in her arrested flight, the woman caressed the exposed flesh with the dozen tails of a leather whip, making the girl whimper. Then she pushed her away, so she swung out and returned to receive a merciless blow, and another, and another.

Some were on her ass, but most on her exposed cunt and the soft insides of her thighs. Then the woman stopped. She reached out to caress the girl's crotch, burning now with red, angry flames. Finally, she walked around and touched her face.

It was slick with tears, sweat and mucus.

The night before last, at the hotel, the woman's chauffeur had wrapped the girl's soiled body in a blanket, carrying her from the stinking wardrobe to the limousine that waited by the delivery entrance. The woman had held her all the way back to the apartment, where she'd lowered her into the bath tub, rocking her like a baby.

"Thank you, Mistress," the girl had said, repeating the words over and over as she'd done all night - and all the way home.

The woman had washed the goo from her face and hair, kissing her chapped lips, telling her she loved her.

"Thank you, Mistress..."

The girl slept all night and halfway into the next day, when the woman woke her with a breakfast that they ate together on the big bed.

The girl was ravenous.

Nibbling on her third buttered croissant, she said:

"I blew my ex."

"I know," the woman said. "You were right, he has a glorious cock!"

They chuckled together.

"He'll tell everybody," the woman said, when they stopped laughing.

"I know," the girl agreed.

"Aren't you mad at me?" the woman asked. The girl shrugged.

"I decided for you," the woman went on.

"Yes," the girl said. "You did." And she emptied her glass of juice.

Back in the now, the woman grabbed the girl's tied ponytail, tugging at it.

"Enough?" she asked. "Is it enough, girl?"

The girl sobbed, but she slowly shook her head 'no.'

The woman smiled.

"Say thank you, slut," she said, still panting from her efforts. "Thank me for taking you back." The words brought a smile to the devastated face.

"Thank you, Mistress," the girl mumbled. "Thank you for... for taking me b..."

The woman cut her off by forcing a big red rubber ball past her teeth, tying it behind her neck. Then she pushed the body out again, lifting the whip to wait for its rebound - and its cruel reward.

Minutes passed.

They must have seemed eternity to the girl. Her body was crisscrossed with a myriad of angry pink lines; her cunt lips were red and swollen and her ass cheeks shone with a hue of purple.

The woman stood panting, exhausted from the ordeal. The girl had long since stopped responding - she might as well have passed out.

"Welcome back," the woman whispered, guiding her fingers over the glowing skin and along the slickness of the ropes. Arriving at the bent back head, she pried the girl's jaws open and retrieved the ball.

It dripped with slime and spittle.

She took a small glass vial from her cleavage, pushing it up the girl's nostrils. The eyes flew open and she gasped.

The woman leaned in close, grinning.

"Welcome back I said, girl," she repeated. Then she undid the knot in the ponytail and lowered the girl's face to her cunt. She'd pulled down her leather tights; there were no panties.

"Pleasure me," she said.

The girl didn't hesitate. Her tongue slid from her mouth, licking the shaven slit, where it found a wet, hard clit.

The woman moved the girl's head up and down by clutching tufts of hair. She rubbed herself with the face as she muttered encouragements. Dealing out punishment had aroused her to the brink of coming, so it took only minutes before she cried out from a massive orgasm.

In her throes, she squashed the girl's face into her flesh, almost strangling her in the process.

After the orgasm passed, she gathered the girl's hair and tied it to the chain again. She kissed the shining forehead, softly squeezing the arching throat. Then she pushed the body away and rearranged her clothes.

She once more walked around.

Caressing the girl, she stopped when she came to the brand of the lily. She traced its raised outline with a fingertip before kissing it. Then she said:

"I love you, girl. Don't ever leave me again."

She went to the winch that held the chain. She slowly cranked it, raising the girl until she spun slowly at about six feet high. She admired her for a minute - the bound tits, the arched throat, the punished thighs - before turning and leaving the room.

"Thank you, Mistress," the girl said.

***

A girl, pimped out.

A key rattled in the lock behind her.

She couldn't look back, but she could visualize the huge door opening. There were clanging noises of metal objects scraping the floor. There also were male voices; they made her very much aware of her situation: naked, bound and dangling at eyes' height, horizontally - her legs spread wide, her exposed cunt facing the entrance, red and swollen.

When the men saw her, their voices fell silent and the rattling stopped. A low curse expressed their surprise. Course fabric touched her ass; it must have been a gloved hand, caressing. Another one was added, this one bare - dry and warm. Her skin responded with painful intensity.

She moaned; the men chuckled.

"So, you have been a naughty girl," one of them said, touching her sore skin. He had a crude, smoke-stained voice. Four bare hands were fondling her now, grabbing her tits and invading her cunt. She mewled softly, wincing. Every touch was painful.

She saw the face of the man pinching her nipple.

He was young, black haired and deeply tanned. Bulging shoulders stretched his checkered shirt. The men had taken a waft of fresh air with them; she also smelled cologne and a lingering touch of tobacco. Sweat she noticed too, healthy fresh sweat. The sensual overdose went to her head as well as to her cunt.

How could she have thought she hated men?

The other man was older. He had a leathery face covered in gray stubbles. He looked strong too, though wirier. Construction workers, she thought, shivering from their touches.

"Work first," the older man said.

The young one lingered until he was urged to help. He shrugged, looking up to the girl's face that was bent-back, pulled by a rope around her pony tail.

His smile was wide and white.

"See you later, honey," he said. "Don't go away." She winced at the corny line.

It took her a while to understand what the men were doing.

They'd cleared a place she could see, on the other side of the fireplace, and put down a square floor of wooden planks. Around it they assembled a set of barred fences. Put together they enclosed a space of maybe seven by seven feet, covered by a barred ceiling that seemed less than six feet high.

A cage, she thought, it was a cage. It had a door made of iron bars, sporting a strong lock.

It didn't take the men long to finish the cage. A few more pulls and shoves, a few bangs with rubber hammers and the cage stood gleaming with its cold metal bars. The sight made her shudder, as did the two men now heading for her. They'd collected their tools.

Then they seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"She sure is a sight," the older man said, walking closer and running his hands over her backside. She didn't have to see what he did; her tender skin screamed wherever he touched her.

"And the woman said we could fuck her?" the younger one asked. He was in front, fondling her tits and her jewel, his face close to hers, smelling of cologne.

"No," the other said, slapping her ass; then touching her open, sensitive cunt. "No, she said we must fuck her. It was part of the job."

They chuckled.

"I like my job," the young one said, grinning. He lowered his face and pushed it into her chest.

The old man stepped away, obviously looking for the winch that controlled the chains she hung from. She felt herself sinking to about four feet off the floor. Soon she knew why, as her face now touched the front of the young man's pants.

Her head came forward as he undid the knot that held her hair back. She sighed as her neck relaxed, but he soon pulled her up again by her ponytail. His cock was out, swollen and ready. It was cut; the glans looked fat and purple.

She opened her mouth and slid her lips over the head's ridge.

How natural it felt. How... appropriate.

Soon the men fucked her from both ends.

The old man's cock was crooked; the head touched places that made her start. He also liked to slap her sore ass with his callous hand and never stopped commenting on her supposed depravity.

The younger man was gentle at first, but encouraged by his mate he quickly changed his pace. His big hands were grabbing her hair and soon all he did was fuck her face, carelessly banging his hard meat into her throat's entrance.

Both men didn't last very long.

Their goo felt hot and plentiful. She hardly tasted the young one's sperm as he sent it straight down her gullet.

They stood panting for a minute.

Then she heard their zippers close and soon the big door was shut behind them. She was alone again, floating a few feet over the floor now - exhausted and leaking with come.

The humiliation had aroused her, as had the fucking. The manhandling of her body had reignited the pain of her flogged flesh, and that had aroused her too.

But she hadn't come.

***

A girl, a doggie.

Can one sleep while tied up and hanging? Maybe, if you're exhausted enough.

Anyway, it took another spell of noises to wake the girl again. She knew at once who was entering - there was the clicking of heels, the waft of perfume.

Both caused her heart to pump faster, pushing blood against the barriers of rope to reach her numb extremities. It sure reached her head, creating a whirlpool of dizziness.

The hand on her branded lily was soft; so were the lips kissing it - and the voice, whispering.

"I see you paid the men for building your new home, honey," it said.

A finger slipped between her cunt lips. They were still slippery from the older man's sperm. The girl smelled it. Then she tasted it as the woman's fingertips slid into her mouth.

She sucked, curling her tongue around it.

Only then did she understand the meaning of the woman's words. A new home, she'd said. The cage was not the dog's; it was meant to be hers.

The idea sparked a flash of bewilderment.

"Isn't it funny, honey cunt?" the woman went on, while gathering more of the leaking goo. "Isn't it ironic how you let yourself get fucked to pay for the very cage you'll be locked up in?"

She chuckled, pleased with her joke.

"And as you are a very cheap little whore, darling," she went on, "they haven't been paid off yet; they'll have to come back and collect more."

The girl moaned.

She had no idea why the destiny the woman just painted for her aroused her, but it did. It should be humiliating, shameful. It was, but it also made her cunt flow.

The woman must have noticed as she chuckled.

"Such a dirty little whore too," she said, bending to lick the drenched cunt lips. "You get all wet from the thought of prostituting yourself, don't you?"

She playfully slapped an ass cheek. The girl mumbled. It made the woman stop and turn around on her way to the winch.

"What did you mumble, honey?" she asked.

"I.. I love you, Mistress."

It made the woman smile. She lowered the chain, making the girl land on her stomach. Then she cut the ropes away with a small, sharp knife, causing the blood to rush back to fingers, toes and tits. She stood over the girl, one heeled boot on each side of the writhing body.

"It hurts, doesn't it, darling?" she asked, her whispering voice drowning in the gasps of the suffering girl. "Oh my," she went on. "A million vicious pin pricks, I bet?

"My poor, lucky slut."

The girl mewled as her fingers, toes and nipples burnt with agony. Her naked body twisted on the cold tiles, consumed by fire.

"Oh," she panted, "oh god, oh, oh."

When she at last lay still, shining with sweat, the woman touched her with the tip of her boot.

"Up, girl," she said. "You very much need a good shower, but first please visit your new home."

She reached down and lifted her up by the hair. The girl groaned and gathered her legs under her to get up and walk.

"No," the woman said, pulling her face up and wagging a finger in it. "You crawl, honey. You crawl to your new home like a doggie; my doggie."

She walked over to the cage and opened its door.

"In, doggie," she said. "In you go."

***

A whore, caged.

She liked her cage; its bars were like magic - they resisted all demons; not one had yet slipped past them. She did have other visitors, though; a lot of them and very real ones - very much alive ones too.

As her mistress had promised, the construction workers returned to collect the rest of her debt, and so did others. She sucked the men's cocks and was fucked by them - usually one at the time, sometimes two or even three.

They filled her nicely and left a growing pile of dollar bills on the small, exquisitely legged table next to the room's entrance.

The woman told her she had to earn her living from now on. Watching the pile grow satisfied her as much as the cocks did; being a prostitute had been a fantasy of hers - one of the many she'd never admitted to.

Her life became uncomplicated.

Being imprisoned and helpless seemed to take a burden off her shoulders. Her entire world was seven by seven feet now, and not even seven feet high. Its floor was made of hardwood planks, mostly covered with a mattress - and a rubber sheet.

Often, the dog was with her, lying in a corner of the room. His mighty head rested on his paws - his eyes never left her. Whenever she had customers, he growled softly when they entered, to make his presence known.

It made her feel safe.

There was water to drink and a pot to piss in. An old woman brought her food; she also took her for an enema and a shower in the morning, but never talked to her.

The girl wore a collar, but there where were no clothes; she didn't miss them - she missed nothing.

At times, she wondered about the world outside - not often, though, as it seemed unimportant. Would anyone miss her? Her best friend, maybe, and one or two of her clients - as far as she still had any. Her concern was fleeting. It had been replaced by other concerns.

Just one, really.

She knew she should be worried about not worrying enough - for example about things that had been important to her, like friendships and business, her reputation in general.

But she didn't.

The need filling her head mostly was for her next fuck - it was a hunger, really. And it wasn't something that occupied her head; it seemed to dwell in her belly and lower, where a constant need churned around a constant emptiness.

Right then her thoughts were mercifully cut off by a new customer entering; a woman, this time, tall and blond. Apart from her mistress, she hadn't been with a woman in ages.

It made her cunt tingle with anticipation.

***

A boot, cleansed.

"Clean her up, boy."

The huge dog strained at his leash, while the woman opened the door to the cage. The girl lay on her soiled sheet, naked, still panting from her last, hard fuck.

They'd been two young men and it seemed they'd saved a lot of sperm for her. Her hair was a mess, as was her come-smeared face. Her tits gleamed with more goo and from her gaping cunt lips oozed gobs of white fluid.

The dog sprang forward the moment the leash snapped open, his broad, red tongue covering her face - then he worked down her body, cleaning her from sperm and sweat.

The girl wriggled and gave a surprised squeal; then her arms closed around the dog's body. She uttered a stream of endearments, her voice smothered by the slithering tongue.

The woman smiled.

"Good boy," she said. "Good girl."

Then she clapped her hands, ordering the dog back. He obeyed at once, leaving a flushed girl looking over his haunch at her mistress.

She was one big smiling mess.

"We have to have a little talk, honey," the woman said, leaning against the bars. Her outfit looked severe; it was made of black leather, the corset as well as her thigh high boots.

Her hair was slicked back.

The girl flipped her sweat-soaked curls to make them settle around her shoulders. Her hands fluttered over her face in a furtive attempt at cleaning up.

"Are you happy, honey?" the woman went on. "You look happy."

The girl nodded in wild agreement. Her smile was wide and honest.

"Good," her mistress said, "because I am too. I'm very happy with how you behaved, these last weeks."

Her words made the girl blush. She stammered her thanks, but the woman raised a hand to stop her.

"But we're not nearly there, girl," she said, pushing her body free from the bars. She sank down on her haunches, making the leather of her boots creak. Her eyes were at the girl's eye level; her hand stroked the dog's pelt.

"These weeks you passed another stage, darling," she said. "The stage of Hunger. I think by now you understand the meaning of its name."

The girl nodded again, slower now.

"Get between my thighs, please," the woman said, as an afterthought. "Get to my cunt and lick me." The girl slid forward at once. Her quick hands pulled the black silk thong aside and her hot tongue dove between puffed cunt lips.

The woman's hands closed over her head, pulling her in.

"There are three more stages to go, honey," the woman went on, while her lower body started a slow gyrating movement.

"You've lost your shame now, and got past the opening up of your body and mind. You discovered how pain can be a deep well of lust.

"And now you found how to still your hunger and slake your thirst - only to be hungry and thirsty again, and again."

The girl didn't respond; she couldn't. Her face was pressed into the woman's swamp, her tongue buried deep inside her.

"Next you'll find surrender," the woman said, her voice down to a whisper.

She grabbed a fist of sweat soaked hair, pulling the girl's face out from between her thighs so she could see her.