Mud Angel Ch. 03

Nick's cock, plunged into the deep, sticky muck, couldn't resist its gluey pull and velvety sensations on his skin, its sensitivity heightened by Claire's administrations. Already primed for orgasm, he began pumping in and out, feeling the mud suck back at him as he pulled out and squish against him as he pushed in. Moaning desperately, just a few strokes away from release, he felt a sharp, blunt pain on his left thigh, realizing that Claire had kicked him. He was sure that it would leave a nasty bruise.

"Hey!" she cried, "did I ever fucking say that you could do that?"

"I— No..." he said, stopping his movements, embarrassed at losing his self-control.

"You didn't fucking come, did you?" She pushed against him with her muddy boot, rolling his body over, and was relieved to see that his mud-coated cock was still as hard as ever, without any trace of ejaculate. Claire looked at his face and couldn't suppress a snort of laughter; the bottom of his face was completely coated in the mud, dripping off his chin. Nick, too, was thrilled at his extremely embarrassing predicament and the gorgeous, mud-splattered girl standing over him.

"You look so fucking stupid," Claire taunted. "You have a mud beard." She reached over to his face with one mud-covered finger and wrote "SLUT" in big letters across his forehead.

"Can you tell what I wrote?"

"Slut..."

She smiled. "Smart boy. Do you think that you're a slut?"

He nodded vigorously, eager to please her.

"Hell yes you are." She gave him another kick, this time in the ribs. She was careful that it wasn't hard enough to do any damage, but that it was still hard enough to teach him a lesson. He groaned and clenched his body in pain. "That's for trying to come when I didn't say so." Then she stooped down and slapped him hard across the face. "And that's for being a slut." He curled into the fetal position on his side, whimpering. The humiliation was so severe it was almost funny.

"Angel," he groaned, "please..." His cock was throbbing unbearably, desperate for release.

"Do you think that you fucking deserve an orgasm?" she sneered.

"Please, I need—"

"Oh, no, we're just getting started. Let's see how strong you really are."

Nick heard her boots squelching away towards the edge of the clearing, and a few seconds later she was back, a pink rope coiled around her hands like a snake.

"Now, let's tie you up and see how long it takes for you to start screaming for me to finish you off."

"Why pink?" Mentally he kicked himself that it was the only thing he could think to say at that moment. He didn't even try to get away.

"Oh, it won't be pink for long," she said, bending down and running a length of it through the mud. She held it up proudly, dripping with grayish muck, and let it dangle over his body. She started tracing it over the patches of still clean skin on his front side, leaving a muddy line and making him shiver with delirious pleasure wherever the rope slithered over him.

She took one of the ropes and tied it quickly and expertly around his ankles, the fibers biting into his skin as she gave it a final tug. He tried moving his legs, finding that the bonds were rock-solid. There was a sort of perverted comfort in being tied down and held so firmly in place.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"I have my ways," she replied mysteriously, nudging him with her boot to signal him to roll over. He obeyed and desperately had to resist getting himself off in the mud again. Quickly his hands were cinched together and she pushed him upright, tying the final rope around his midsection to keep his arms in place behind his back. Now, bound in rope and desperate as he was, he was completely at Claire's mercy. She could make him orgasm all day long, or simply leave him here to die. He got yet another exciting tingle from acknowledging that fact.

"Am I supposed to call you mistress now?" he asked, trying a small attempt at humor.

"No, kitten," she laughed lightly, "I like it when you call me angel." Claire pushed him back down onto his stomach and began running her hands over his slick back. He had to twist his head to the side to avoid getting a face full of sludge.

"Oh, shit," she said.

"What?"

"I forgot to take your shorts off before tying your legs together."

He let out another small chuckle, shifting his legs to feel the heavy fabric bunched around his knees.

"Eh, I'll just leave them on. It'll be fine." Claire kept massaging him, rubbing the mud into his skin and kneading his butt and neck with the heels of her hands. He reveled in the firm touch of her strong hands on his broad back, relaxing his muscles but still teasingly denying him the pleasure that he actually wanted. Then she switched from using her hands to using her mouth, gently biting and nibbling at him, her hot humid breath washing over his skin, and the feeling of her teeth giving him a tingly sensation. Purple bruises started blossoming on his back as she started biting harder and harder, teeth sinking into his flesh, but he lay there, letting himself be vulnerable to her, strangely enjoying the perverted pain. Then Claire, the devious girl, bit him on his already bruised and sore shoulder, and he couldn't stifle a cry as sharp, stinging pain shot through him.

She laughed gleefully, enjoying how he cried out, and started using her hands again, rubbing mud into his tender, bruised skin.

"Angel," he whimpered, "when do I get to come?"

"Hmmm, well, you have to earn it. Let's first see if you know how to treat a lady, then maybe I'll let you." She roughly hauled him out of the mud by his armpits, placing his tied-up body at the edge of the mud pit with his head facing outwards. Then she stripped off her ruined denim shorts and sat down on the edge with a contented sigh, legs spread apart with his head in between. His vision was filled with the dirt-streaked candy pink lace of her underwear, her humid female smell pervading his nostrils. Claire pulled her underwear and the fishnet away from her opening, revealing to him her sweet, hot pink vagina, dripping with delicious nectar.

"You know what to do, slut," she taunted, adjusting her legs to give him the best position.

His cock still inflamed and desperate, he dove in savagely, licking and nibbling and teasing as fast as he could, eager to make her orgasm quickly so that he could sooner. She let out a small gasp but quickly composed herself, then squeezed his head between her powerful thighs, stopping his movements.

"What the hell do you think that was, kitten?" she admonished. "I thought you said you knew how to treat a lady." She clucked her tongue. "Now, let's try that again, slower this time. Your only job is to make me feel good." She released his head, and he bowed shamefully. Nick went in again, this time his actions much more calculated: Nuzzle her clitoris, lick her opening, nibble the folds, plunge his tongue in as far as it would go. Claire was clearly enjoying this much more, based on the moans and whimpers she was making, her face turned towards the sky as if she were praying. Her nectar coated in the inside of his mouth, the fruity taste making him eager for her to reach orgasm so that he could taste her ejaculate, too. Quickly she was rocking and moaning, her hands tightly grabbing him by the hair, forcing him into her, then her body went rigid, sugary pleasure pouring through her, and she squirted all over his face with a shout, her body then falling limp.

"Oh!" she gasped.

He looked up at her weakly, his face and hair disheveled, covered with mud and her fluids, which combined into a strange mixture of filth and female pleasure.

She looked down at him and immediately burst into a fit of laughter.

"What?" he asked, feeling embarrassed.

"It says 'slut' on your forehead," she giggled. "It fits you perfectly, don't you think?"

He nodded unsurely.

"Of course you are!" she chided, "just look at the size of that dick!" Claire cackled superciliously at his embarrassed expression. "You would think that a man with a dick that size could actually give me a good orgasm."

"Did I not—"

"You were fucking terrible," she said, even though it was a lie. "Try harder next time."

He gave a choked sob as she picked up his immobile body and unceremoniously dropped him back in the middle of the pit.

She rolled him over onto his back so that he was looking up at her, then slid off her boots—she wasn't wearing socks—squealing when she almost fell over.

"Now," she grinned, holding up her boots, plastered so completely and thickly with brown muck that he couldn't even tell what color they originally were, "I want you to kiss my feet." Claire stuck out her muddy right foot to him, just above his supine face, and he raised his lips to it experimentally, the mud sticking to them.

"That's it," she encouraged. Her fishnet stockings were still wrapped around her feet, and he carefully kissed through the holes in the netting, making contact with her skin through a layer of mud. How embarrassing it was—his pathetic, tied-up body, slaving away in a pit of mud just to worship the feet of a beautiful goddess.

Claire gave a triumphant giggle and kicked mud onto his face, splattering the right side and making him flinch and gasp at the wet feeling of it. It splattered over his eye, but he could still see through the left one, seeing her standing threateningly over him: Up her thin but powerful mud-covered legs, her pink underwear, still mostly clean, her black leather corset tightly hugging her body, dotted and splattered with dried mud, her gorgeous breasts, which he would do anything to touch, her wavy brown and pink hair, and at last her face, still clean and grinning evilly at him. She was so beautiful, so perfect, like a work of art. Nick eagerly kissed her toes, utterly debasing himself for her, not worthy to stand in her presence.

When she was satisfied, she pulled her combat boots back onto her muddy feet, loving the feeling of how the mud squished between her toes inside her boots.

"Just look at you," she taunted, placing her boot on his neck and giving it a firm push into his throat. "What should I do with a slut like you?" He let out a choked mewl, a thrill of adrenaline shooting through him as his airway was partially cut off and at the humiliation, completely submitting to her. He was getting incredibly aroused from the indignity, his cock screaming for release all the more.

Claire gave a disappointed cluck of her tongue and released him. She slunk down onto all fours next to him, sinking in at least a foot, the mud enveloping her skin like an earthy lover. She slathered the muck onto the last few patches of clean skin on his body, the inside of his legs, his shoulders, and his face until he was completely covered and looked like a mud sculpture. He sighed, enjoying the cool bliss of its slick, gritty texture sticking heavily to his skin and squeezing into every pore. Running her fingers over his chest, she could feel his heart beating rapidly with some combination of fear and excitement.

Patches of mud on his body from earlier had already started to dry into a hard beige layer, which Claire generously covered over with fresh mud. She massaged his nipples and he moaned even more, his head tilting back slightly. Sexual pleasure was built up in him, pressurized, like a dam about to burst, and this time, he was certain that all it would take was a single touch on his cock to set him off. However, Claire seemed acutely aware of this, giving his genitals a wide berth as she moved her slippery hands up and down his body.

"Ooh!" she gasped, picking up something out of the mud. "Tell you what, if you want to come right now, you just need to do one thing."

He nodded vigorously, his erection swollen so much for so long it was getting to be quite painful.

Claire thrust out her hand to him, a fat, pink earthworm coiled around her forefinger, slowly undulating and slinking along as if looking for the ground to burrow into. "Eat it."

Nick's eyes went wide with terror and he clamped his mouth shut, trying to squirm away, his stomach dropping in a confused panic. What the hell was she thinking? Claire, instead, burst out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, falling backward into the mud clutching her stomach.

"Look at you," she snickered, pointing at him. "You didn't actually think I was going to make you eat it, did you?" She set the worm down gently by her side, letting it return to its home. Nick gave a nervous chuckle, still a little panicked and very confused.

"Kitten, I know I may be mean, and I may be gross, but I'm not that unsanitary," she giggled. "I love to humiliate you, but I wouldn't actually do anything that terrible. And besides, there's always the safe word."

"You're mean," he said, glaring at her.

"Oh, kitten, you haven't seen anything yet. Now come here." She grasped onto his ankles and dragged him back towards her. "Now, if you do want me to fuck you, first you've got to undress me." Claire stood up, her now ruined panties coming out of the mud with a wet sucking sound.

Nick squirmed and grunted, still unable to move.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she taunted, "never seen a naked girl?"

"Claire, like I just said, you really are mean."

"Oh well, I guess I'll just do it myself," she sighed, ignoring him. "Actually, I want to try something first. Roll over."

"This isn't going to be another worm—" He let out a grunt when Claire gave a kick to his shin. "Roll over."

He immediately obeyed and rolled over onto his stomach, not wanting to risk another kick to the same spot, which was already growing sore.

Mirthfully, she put her boot-clad foot on the back of his head and gave it a sharp shove, pushing his face deep into the sludge. He emitted a muffled cry of indignity as the mud pushed against his face, into his nostrils, and Claire continued pushing harder, his head sinking in more until the mud entered his ears too. She ground him under her heel like the piece of trash he was, letting out a satisfied sigh.

Nick finally realized, humiliated as he was, completely desecrated, his limbs bound, that he wasn't here for his own pleasure, but rather to worship his angel. He was just a body, a thing only for Claire's sadistic pleasure and nothing else. He gave a moan at being made beneath her, under her, letting her crush him, break him, reshape him however she wanted. He knew he could take anything she did to him, and if she kept humiliating him, he would keep coming back for more.

Claire, insatiable, was not content to just crush him down into the mud beneath her feet; she held him down there under her powerful legs, silently counting to sixty seconds. She was aware of the risks that came from suffocation, but she knew that he could hold his breath for longer than a minute.

His brain going woozy from lack of oxygen, he squirmed and tried to push back against her, but he was trapped between her heavy boot and the secure suction of the mud. He briefly entertained the thought that he would be content to die right there, buried in the mud in the middle of the woods, as long as it was with the person he loved most.

Just when he thought that his lungs and his sinuses were going to burst from pressure, he felt her boot lift and he tried to pull his head out, but the suction of the wet mud was too strong and he couldn't get enough leverage with his hands tied behind his back. He frenziedly tried to wriggle his face out, mud shifting and gurgling as if it didn't want to let him go. Nick gave another muffled cry of anguish, but then he felt Claire's strong hands tangle in his hair, pain shooting through his scalp, mud sloughing off his face as she yanked him out. He took several, deep, shuddering gasps until his breathing was under control, a giddy exhilaration flowing into him like oxygen into his lungs. Claire kept her boot firmly planted on his back, threatening him with another face full of mud again. As much as he was relieved to be able to breathe again, there was something alluring about being so mistreated by being suffocated in mud.

"Ooh, you're a mud monster," she giggled.

"And you're a whore."

Surprised by his defiance, she grinned evilly. "What did you just call me?"

"A whore."

"You are so going to fucking pay for that," she growled, grabbing his head and slamming it back into the mud. Insulting her had the exact effect he wanted; his face was yet again under her boot in the welcome embrace of the muck, the gritty substance licking his sensitive face. Relying on the grip of the mud to keep his head in place, she stepped off him and kicked him in the side, sadistically enjoying how he writhed and the muffled yelps he let out. She gave him three hard spanks on the same spot on his ass, the wetness of the mud giving them an extra sting. Confused and disoriented and humiliated as he was, he couldn't tell what was his body and what was the mud, and his oxygen-deprived brain seemed to turn into sludge as well, pleasure and pain bleeding together in a confused mess, her spanking and the rush of hormones only continuing to keep him rock-hard.

Claire hauled him out again, giving him a teasing smile. "If you call me a whore again, I'll fucking slit your throat."

"Mm, yeah, do it," he moaned deliriously.

"Either that or I'll whip all the fucking skin off your back. Then I could hear you scream."

He gave a pathetic, but very aroused, moan. Yet again, she rolled him, helpless, onto his back.

"Do you want more suffocation?"

"Please," he groaned.

She giggled, kicking off her boots, and dropped her pink panties to her ankles, revealing her red, mud-rimmed vagina, then set them down on the dry ground and peeled off her fishnet as well, casting it to the side. Claire grinned excitedly and turned her back to him. Nick couldn't quite tell what was happening until suddenly his vision was filled with her ass and she was sitting on his face, the solid weight of her body pushing him deep into the mud, their muddy skin squishing where it met. He got another rush, similar to the feeling you get when you narrowly avoid a car crash, the thrill of the potential danger making his toes and fingers tingle.

Her ass was hot compared to the cool mud, giving his face conflicting sensations, driving his mind crazy. Mud and Claire's juices leaked into his mouth, mud squished into his ears, and his nose was stuck between her ass cheeks—the messiness and humiliation was unbelievable.

Claire wriggled her ass, laughing playfully, rubbing her vulva against his nose, the soft, squishy flesh of her ass rubbing against his skin. She was making him breathless in more ways than one—he loved how her slick, slippery ass rolled over the contours of his nose and face.

And then she got up again, watching him blink mud away from his eyes and spit it out from his mouth.

"How did you even get mud in your mouth? Keep it closed, idiot."

When he finally spat it all out, she scooped up two handfuls of mud and dropped them on his face and kicked him in the ribs, just for the hell of it.

"Anyways, I think we've gotten a little sidetracked," she said casually, as if Nick currently wasn't whimpering in pain at her feet, "weren't you supposed to be undressing me?"

He didn't acknowledge her presence, in too much pain and too humiliated to do anything.

"Oh, right, silly me," she laughed. "You're making me do it all by myself. At least hold my clothes for me." Claire picked up her discarded panties from the edge, the back of them plastered in mud, but the front still mostly clean, hooking them onto one finger and dangling them above his face, taunting him. "You want these?"

"Yes," Nick gulped, his voice cracking, wanting to taste even more of her, long since forgetting any sort of rules or rationality.