tagBDSMHer Defilement

Her Defilement


“You just never never know.....”

“You just never never know.....”

“You just never never know.....”

The words kept repeating through the foggy haze of her waking up mind. Her body was thrummed with vibration. Motion. She was in a car hooded and hogtied. And she was balled up in some sort of gunney sack.

How long, she wondered. How long had they been driving? Her bicep hurt where the needle had without care, been punctured into flesh and something, something burning had been delivered into her that had nearly immediately stopped her surprised wails and flailing. She had already been
knocked down, a knee wedged in her back, just a glimpse of faces covered in those nearly see through distorted clown masks you normally saw in some late night horror movie. Clowns. She hated them.

Her body hurt, she felt like she had ran a marathon with someone using a cattle prod to shock her into going everytime she might have fallen or given up. Her head hurt. She was dizzy. She wanted water. God, she was so thirsty! Her tongue felt swollen, dry and gave no relief to drying lips. She could not move, not a wiggle and not a squirm, period.

She felt them flanking her, bodies on each side. Whose bodies? And was this, was this....real? Was it Andrew? Would he let her know?

“Sometimes even our darkest fantasies come true whether we really want them to or not.”

His words. They moved in slow hazy precision through muddled mind. Pictures began forming of every little secret fantasy she had ever whispered to him. Gang rape. Knives. Animals. Kidnapping. Use of her in ways she had never shared with another living soul. Things you just did not talk about, but things that when she thought about them never failed to make her cunt pulse and her heart race. So many things.

Was this it?

A single tear slid from the corner on eye.

She couldn’t tell. She couldn’t tell and all she could do is wait and see.


It was nothing short of hours that seemed to pass before the nearly sickening steady motion of the car beneath her tired body drew to a stop. There were sounds around her as car doors opened, the distinct crunch of boots grinding into gravelled ground. Without much regard to how they grabbed or where, strong fingers sank into her at the waist and drug her without preamble down the seat until she was dropped much like a sack of Idaho's onto the ground. She heard her whimper and what she thought was a stifled titter of amusement. Assholes!!

Fuck This. Whoever they were. Even if it Was Andrew, fuck this! Fuck THEM. She would not give anyone the satisfaction of hearing her react again.

God damn him anyways. Where was he!?

Then, what if..what if this wasn't Andrew's doing? What if...this were..real?

No time to properly wonder at her sudden misfortune, she was being........dragged. The heavy sack she was balled and stuffed into was bumping and grating over pebbles and sticks, she could feel them bite and prod, bit her lip to keep from crying out as she felt the immediate bruising of ribs and legs over larger rocks. Keep her head lifted became a nightmare of concentration. She was certain she'd end up with a concussion.

Finally she was being drawn over an entryway onto smooth flooring. No voices, just low murmuring sounds and the closer loudness of bootfalls near her body. Tears seeped unintentionally from the corners of her eyes once more. She hurt. She hurt so bad. It wasn't supposed to be like...this. So


She was hoisted again and dumped onto something cold and flat. A table maybe? And then there was nothing. She was left she thought. Just left there to ache and snuffle breaths in and out on this table in their created darkness. Left to think about what was next. What would be done. Pain.

There would be no pleasure in this. Surely not if...if it wasn't Andrew.

What were they going to do? How would she withstand it? She had only ever been with Andrew in the last three years. He had never even considered sharing her, not even a touch. He was that possessive.

He loved her.

She fought a sob, felt it burn and ache in her throat, talked it away silently. It couldn't go on forever. Surely not. And every moment lived, was another closer to it being over.

So she thought.

It was just as she was finding comfort in a numbing silence that she felt a gentle pressure and heard the distinct sound of a zipper being drawn around her. Air flooding in around sweat dampened body. She moaned. She wasn't quite sure it was even herself, but she thought it must have been.

Hands worked her legs from their cramped bend and she was certain it was her gasping as they met the ice cold of the table beneath her. The hands stilled and applied pressure just to the tops of her knees. A subtle warning perhaps. To mind. Another zipper taken, this one on the hood right next to her left ear. So close it made her tremble and then a voice. Cool, feminine, casual.

"Be a good girl and you might leave with your life when we're done."


She wanted to beg right then, but her tongue was swollen and dry from a thirst that was on the verge of making her mad, so she just..nodded. Very slowly.

"Get her undressed, scrub the filth down and notify me when she's ready"

Male. Powerful. Not Andrew.

That's all that mattered now. It wasn't Andrew.
Check back soon for Part. 2

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