Candace Is Taken for a Ride

The music had stopped. The room was perfectly quiet as Candace Ashbee bared her buttocks for the suddenly hushed audience of randy men.

For a moment they sat entranced, visually caressing those taut white cheeks with the narrow crack that tightened reflexively with the lewd exposure. The panties were down, spanning her thighs, and she was about to slide them all the way down when one again she was stopped. "No, leave 'em there!" Jack Crowley cried out: "Shake that thing!"

And the thoroughly humiliated woman did it, she wiggled her naked bottom at the flushed and eager men who sat behind her. They applauded and demanded more. She was made to bend down and stick out her butt and rotate it in lewd pantomime of a bump and grind, much to the enthusiastic response of the excited men.

"Now turn around Candy Ass. Show us your cunt!"

She straightened, turned to face her audience: breasts exposed, her panties displaced, stretched across her thighs at half mast -- a wanton pose that offered a gently mounded, black-furred pussy for their inspection.

She heard the furious click of the camera, and closed her eyes.

"NO! Keep your eyes open!"

Her blue eyes flew open wide to stare unseeingly straight into the camera.

"That's right. Now, get rid of the panties. Then spread your legs."

Obediently the woman ran her panties down her legs, bending over, breasts swaying heavily under her bent torso, as she stepped out of her fallen underpants and tossed them aside. Now reduced to her high heels and the wickedly gleaming black stockings that encased her glamorous legs, she straightened up and spread her legs, setting her heels wide part, to stand facing the camera with her arms loosely at her side.

"Hands on your hips!"

She took up the pose with arms akimbo, held the wicked pose for a series of rapid-fire photos, just standing perfectly still, the thick wedge of a fleshy pubic mound exposed: the slight bulge of the labia, and the darker center cleft, all dimly visible through the haze of dark pubic hair. Every man in the room suffered from an aching, intolerable erection. The all had one thing in mind: to lay into this juicy piece.

"Damn, this is great! Let's get her to play with herself," a voice cried out. The shouted suggestion was immediately joined with a rousing chorus of assent.

Someone pushed a low-backed easy chair over to the center of the room, and the erotically-clad woman sat down, and let herself be arranged, limp and unresisting, as though she had fallen into a trance. She was pulled to the front edge of the cushioned seat, her head and shoulders lolling back into the thickly padded back of the chair. They tossed open her slack, nyloned legs, draped them over the arms of the chair so that she lay back with furry crotch opened, her pussy brazenly exposed to the men, and their ubiquitous camera.

They made her put her hands on her cunt, spread open the labia, to show the glistening inner pink as she looked up at the camera. They insisted she smile, grinning, in the wanton pose of a slatternly whore showing herself in lewd invitation.

"Go on, slut. Play with yourself. Show us how you do it!"

The men shifted their chairs closer, leaned forward, eager and alert, to watch with fascinated interest while the Boss Lady pleasured herself.

Candace lay with head thrown back, staring at the ceiling, moving a hand that seemed disembodied as it cupped her vagina and curled fingers pressed into the bulging softness of her cuntlips. They watched her playing with the rubbery lips, fingering herself. Fluttering fingers brushed over her labia, circled her clitoris. And when she was good and wet they saw her stick a finger up her hot squirming vagina. Hot and bothered, she was caught up in raging lust now, the sex juices flowing copiously, pussylips slick and flushed a dark pink.

"Come on...do it! FUCK YOURSELF!" A male voice commanded, crackling with impatience.

The eyes of the passion-drugged woman fluttered closed, and she obediently inserted her stiffened middle finger up her cunt. She gave herself a stab of pleasure, then slipped a second finger into place, and with two joined fingers in her cunt, she began to jiggle her wrist.

The men applauded.

The hand in her crotch pumped faster, the girl finger fucking herself with increasing fury as she arched back in the thickly-padded chair. The room was perfectly silent except for the tiny squishy sounds her jiggling fingers were making in her well-lubricated cunt. Then she started to moan. A low breathy moan; they strained forward, eager to see it all as the lust-driven girl neared her impending climax. The moan turned into a high pitched keening sound; her body stiffened and she tossed her thick mane from side to side, caught up in the rapture of ecstatic delight. They watched her orgasm; no one said a word.

As she lay in the afterglow, panting and depleted, they tied her to the rounded chair so she was left that way, with legs obscenely opened. As a final touch, someone inserted a whisky bottle up her gapping, drooling cunt. The protruding bottle was left in place for a few more photos. Then they turned back to the interrupted poker game.

***

Over the next 48 hours, Candace Ashbee was to be used shamelessly, degraded and humiliated, and fucked in every conceivable manner by four healthy, randy, and revenge-minded men. Throughout her ordeal, she was kept a naked slave. Whenever she was given a command, she was to smile and to obey, instantly, no matter how outrageous the order might be. For less than quick and enthusiastic compliance, or even for what they saw as a sullen attitude, she would inevitably be punished. As she was that Friday night.

Candace's punishment took the form of being tied down over a low trestle and repeatedly spanked with a wooden paddle. It was Lewis, the engineer, who designed and built the trestle. It looked like a gym horse tilted so that it was lowered at one end. It was a simple wooden frame: the tilted crossbar, wedge-shaped and padded in rubber, mounted on sturdy legs only 15 inches off the floor. At the lower end, a rod stuck out to either side to be gripped by the mounted rider who rode the trestle as a jockey rides a horse, head down, ass high.

Naked but for high heels and stockings, she was made to straddle the crossbar on hands and knees, bringing her torso up lengthwise along the padded bar. Then she would reach out to grip the bar so she was stretched out with the wedged-shaped rubber pressed into the valley between her hanging breasts then into her belly all the way to her crotch. A wide leather belt was passed around her lower back tying her down to the bar, while a second looped her just below the shoulders, pinning her even more firmly in place. Crouching down over the trestle, her dangling breasts hung down on either side of the padded bar, while her extended buttocks were raised, nicely served up to be used ...in whatever way the men desired.

The men took turns paddling their former boss, often looking for the flimsiest to excuse to force the girl to arch her back and present her tempting bottom, each more eager than the last to take up the paddle and get in a few solid licks. The paddle they used had begun life as a ping pong paddle, a short handle attached to a pliant oval blade with a textured rubber facing. It delivered a sharp sting. It was most effective.

The captive was ordered to raise her head so as to look at the men who crowded around her, while the one designated to perform the deed knelt by her jutting ass, paddle at the ready. The first time it was Shaw who won the toss to start them off. He seemed in no hurry to get on with the spanking. He took his time in a pleasant diversion, admiring those full-fleshed, tautly-drawn curves.

Grabbing hold of her butt, he wobbled the two generous handfuls. Then he slid his thumbs from either side into the middle of the crack to pry her open. The woman burned with humiliation to realize he was holding back her straining buttocks, holding her open to expose her asshole to the huddle of men, who joked and laughed. And when he let her pliant cheeks snap shut, he tarried there, cupping her, letting a generous buttcheek spill through a clenching fingers, then employing a single finger to trace her cringing crack from the top of her ass to the where it ended right up between her legs, tickling the hairy perineum in a gentle goosing soon had her wiggling excitedly. And while she was still squirming he took the pouch of her underslung pussy in his hand and began to lavishly fondle the delightfully soft flesh of her furry vulva. Candace bit off an involuntary moan. The hand withdrew.

For a moment nothing happened. She waited tensely. The she felt the paddle lightly tapping her bare bottom. It amused him to see her anxious butt clench in fearful reflex, the coiled muscles tightening down, the rearcrack drawn to a narrow slit. Then he hauled off and gave her hardened ass a quick whack, crisply meeting the proffered rump, flattening the jutting curves with a solid slap that sent the jellied mounds wobbling and had the woman jacking up and letting out a high-pitched yelp, again and again, at each repeated slap.

Nowhere did Candace more intensely feel her utter humiliation, her enforced subjugation to these revenge-minded men, than when she was splayed naked over the padded bar. Tied securely with head lowered and breasts dangling heavily beneath her, her jutting buttocks were forced up, temptingly raised like a female animal's -- presented for mounting. And of course that obvious use occurred to the randy men who eyed up that delightful upraised rump with lustful glee...and four, painfully stiff erections.

****

They let her rest on Saturday morning. She was given toast and coffee, allowed to wash up, but she was denied all privacy in the bathroom, and was forced to shower while the men crowded in the doorway and watched. Then, still naked, she was taken back to the bedroom and locked in. She heard some of them leaving, and from her one window she saw the car pull away. Hours passed; she waited, naked fearful and alone.

She heard the sounds outside and alertly lifted her head, straining to listen to the sounds of arriving cars, counting each one that pulled up the gravel driveway. The solid thump of slamming car doors mingled with the shouts of raucous male voices greeting each other as three men met and clomped into the wooden cabin. Tonight there seemed to be a lot excitement. From what she could make out, Lewis had bought something at a sex shop, and whatever it was they were all laughing and admiring it. There were jokes about how much their guest would enjoy "going for a ride." Candace shuddered. She didn't like the sounds of that at all!

The captive didn't have to wait long. In a few minutes Shaw came for her. She was untied, and helped to sit up on the bed while a leash was snapped to the ring in her collar. She was made to accept the hated ballgag, which she did with nothing more than a silent plea of her mournful eyes. Now they brought out the Western boots she had worn the day they were taken, and she was urged to shove her bare feet into the high heeled tooled-leather boots. Then the booted and gagged prisoner was led by the leash into the brightly lit main room where she saw it squatting in the middle of the floor -- a small cylinder cut lengthwise: the size and shape of half of a wastebasket lying on its side. The curved mound was covered in smooth vinyl, and perfectly symmetrical. The bulging curve was wide, but not so wide that its girth can't be accommodated between the clutching thighs of a kneeling girl. Centered at the top of the curve, a rubber dildo, glistening with a coating of lubricant, jutted into the air, sticking straight up in obscene invitation. The Sybian mount was plugged in and waiting; it lacked only one thing -- a rider. There was no doubt in anyone's mind who that would be.

In the face of this fresh humiliation, Candace suddenly cowered back and shrieked her protests through the gag that stoppered her mouth. She resisted for all she worth, while Shaw tried to drag her forward. When the others went to grab her, she flailed out wildly at them. Finally all four men had jumped into the fray, and by sheer force they had wrestled the naked woman into submission -- enjoying every minute of it. She was quickly overpowered and subdued. Crowley ended up holding her in a bear hug, while she squirmed helplessly back against him, and her wrists were cuffed before her. Then Crowley and Shaw each took an arm and a leg, and they picked her up off her booted feet and hauled her, kicking and screaming into the gag, over to where her mount waited.

The woman's legs were spread, held open over the mounded beast while she was forced down into a squat with her vagina poised over the upright phallus. Ben helpfully reached down to pry open her cuntlips and carefully align the shaft with the gaping pussy. He looked up at the other two and nodded as, with a single shove, the helpless prisoner was forced to impale herself on the hard rubber shaft. Candace's eyes flew wide open over the gag, and she let out a muffled cry at the swiftness of the penetration.

As she straddled the hump on her knees, squirming to adjust to the novel sensation of the dildo that stuffed her cunt, someone pushed her shoulders forward and her cuffed hands shot out to brace herself with wrists together and splayed fingers curving down each side of the vinyl contour.

The men closed in around her to enjoy the unforgettable sight: Their arrogant, overweening boss lady, Ms. Ashbee, humbled before them, her head bowed low in shame, her magnificent naked breasts rising and falling with her heavy breathing. And though they could see nothing between her splayed thighs but the top of her darkly-furred vulva, the very knowledge that Miz Candy Ass was mounted on a dildo at their feet was enough to instantly stiffen the surging prick of every man in that room!

All agreed: they had to have a picture of this! Lewis rushed off to the bedroom for the camera and one final detail – the Stetson hat she had worn on that fateful day they picked her up at the airport. The Western hat was plunked on the back of her head, and she was told to look up at the camera. Surprisingly, this she refused to do! She knelt with head stubbornly lowered, her face well hidden under the hat's broad brim.

"Sit up, bitch," Eddy snarled, reaching down to pluck her left nipple and hold it lightly between thumb and forefinger. And when she didn't comply fast enough for him, he squeezed his pincer grip while pulling the captive breast upward, stretching the pliant tittie-flesh, forcing Candace to abruptly straighten up and throw back her thick mane. The face she presented to the camera was etched with lines of pain as the man squeezed and twisted her left nipple.

Finally, he let her go and she slumped forward, breathing raggedly.

"Shoulders back!" he warned. She obediently straightened, pulled back her shoulders to shove her proud breasts forward. Her left nipple was swollen and throbbing with a dull ache, but both nipples were now fully erected. Sitting there with splayed knees, her naked body held rigid, she was once more told to look up at the camera. There was a distinct look of uneasiness in those wide blue eyes that met the camera lens over the distorting ballgag.

Ben snapped off a few choice pictures, while Lewis took up the control box at the end of the wire that snaked out the back of the Sybian machine.

He clicked the little red "on" button and they heard the muffled hum as the dildo was activated sending deep-seated vibrations reverberating through the impaled girl. Lines of urgency creased her smooth brow, tightening around half-lidded eyes as the naked girl jogged forward, absorbing the repeated stabs of pleasure.

No one moved. The men watched entranced, as the girl's lashes fluttered, and her eyes slid closed against the creamy rise of pleasure. She was jogging more rapidly now, rocking back and forth on the vinyl mound. A dreamy expression came over her upturned face as she savored the delicious sensations generated deep in her innards. Her thighs clenched tight, and she soon was bobbing up and down in syncopated rhythm, her floppy breasts jouncing merrily, her bouncing matched to the pistoning phallus that impelled her on her jogging ride.

Now Lewis slid his thumb along the control that increased the intensity, and the quiet hum turned into an angry buzz, as renewed waves of pulsing energy were sent to wildly electrify the juddering girl. The abrupt surge of energy sent Candace into a profound spasm of pure ecstatic delight, she shook and trembled, gave out with strangled shriek and fell forward, braced on extended hands as the pumping vibrator picked up speed. Abruptly, she arched back, threw her head back and shook her hair held there on the brink for several impossible seconds as repeated thrills racked her gyrating body till she experienced a massive, earth-shattering orgasm. An orgasm that was to be recorded in detail with digital fidelity.

****

Candace was looking a little wan, though none the worse for wear once she was dressed again in her jeans, the western shirt and boots -- the same clothes she had worn the day they picked her up in the silver van. Before they returned her to the airport parking lot, they arranged a slideshow on her laptop using the digital photos that had been taken over the week of her captivity. Candace watched in shocked disbelief, horrified to see the color pictures of her clad only in stockings and high heels, or booted and gagged, or tied to the spanking rack. Pictures taken from the front, rear, and side, standing, kneeling, and bending over. Pictures of her being spanked like a schoolgirl; of her riding the bizarre pleasure machine and seeming to enjoy it mightily; of her servicing four men whose faces could not be seen.

It was explained to her that if she still harbored any thoughts of revenge the photos could easily be sold to any number of eager webmasters for world-wide distribution on the internet. In a matter of days her image would be famous across the globe. The photos would be a sort of insurance policy. She would go back to work at BBR&J just like any Monday morning, and immediately apply for a transfer. The men had talked it over and decided that the Korean office would be good choice.

The End