Walking on the Wild Side Ch. 02

I was unable to respond. With every stroke, my pussy flooded with undeniable pleasure. His punishment was so severe I wouldn't soon forget it, especially when I walked, moved, or tried to sit down. In unmistakable defiance, I flexed my cheeky muscles and kicked again to see what he would do.

"Don't make me take off my belt," he threatened.

I needed to feel his oily, leather belt on my tenderized ass. I hoped he would make it all better later. Maybe he'd apply some ice and a soothing salve and caress my pained cheeks, sit me on his cock, and bounce me to the outer limits of pleasure that would erase the memory of the pain. All the things he does to me I take as signs of control and attention, the kind of attention I go out of my way to get.

The first spanks are the ones that hurt the worst. Patrick lined up the first stroke across the crack of my ass and the next one directly above it. I drooled copiously, a side effect from the ball gag. Heavy drops of my tears spattered on the vinyl seat and made it slick.

Quickly, I stood upright and was ready to run blindly away from him, but Patrick held me in place and pushed me forward onto the warm hood of the car. My heart skipped a beat as he unzipped his pants and propped his dick against my slit. Patrick fingered the juice that dripped down my leg, then cleaved me with his steel rod in one stroke. He pumped slowly, savoring the sensation of the liquid silk.

I strained to enjoy the impalement, arched my back, and pumped against his hammering thrusts. His forehead gleamed with sweat as he struggled to contain the boiling spunk from his aching bullocks. Lust won out over greed and he pulsed his steaming seed into me with a wild rebel yell.

I kept focused on my goal and rubbed my mons on the hood ornament. My clit was raw as I jammed myself on Patrick's deflating stump. I didn't care about the pain. Reaching the apex of my desire, I screamed into the gag, and fainted, leaving an imprint of my sweaty breasts on the hood.

~The Tail Hook~

The acrid odor of smelling salts were being waved under my nose. He'd plugged my ears and laid me down on a padded gym mat. I was unable to hear anything but distant mumbles. He gently wiped me down with a warm, soapy wash cloth and rubbed my skin with a cream.

Patrick must have set up this evening earlier in the week with Jimmy's help. The two men donned black leather masks to hide their identities from the video cam on the tripod, ready to create more visual proof of me in the throes of pain, humiliation, and pleasure.

Trussed up like a turkey, my globes were separated with thick, soft rope that continued around my upper arms and across the back to form a type of harness. Another rope circled my waist several times, cinching like a corset. Ankles and calves were bent and bound to my thighs, forcing my back to arch and bottom to curve up obscenely. The back of my slave collar was attached to a stainless steel blunted tail hook inserted in into my ass. This position lined up my mouth and throat horizontally. The most frustrating part was the immobilization of my head. I couldn't thrash because I was controlled by the hook restraint. I tried to scream out my frustration through the ball gag.

I'd been bound to balance horizontally from the ceiling. My collar, rope harness, and ankles were attached to heavy construction chain. Presented like a piece of raw sushi, I was served up by a pair of strong and meaty hands while being hoisted up with the pulley. Once I was raised to the desired height, the chain was secured. Struggling was fruitless as my limbs were stretched into impossible contortions by the weight of my body. My breasts looked like a pair of toddlers' heads hanging from my chest and caused someone's cock to point skyward like a steel pole. Stroked and pinched nipples hardened before a painful set of nipple clamps were attached to them. My pussy clenched with desire as I winced in pain. I am a world class slut.

The ball gag was removed, Ora-gel was applied to my lips in preparation for the battering they were about to receive and it would have a numbing effect that would make the men last a whole lot longer. Holding my ponytail for leverage, glans rubbed over my slick lips and I licked the newcomer with enthusiasm and attempted to suck the corona. My mouth needed widening in order to accommodate the thickness of his rod. The fist sized cock stretched my mouth. Trying to shield my lower teeth with my tongue in order not to scratch the underside of his cock was an impossible effort. Gently rocking back, he fed me his dick an inch or two at a time, testing the width and depth of my throat, tight on all counts. Taking a different tack toward the ultimate goal, he lifted his smooth, lemon sized balls to my liquid lips. I knew it was not Patrick because this one's pole and balls were hairy.

He delighted in the licentiousness of anonymity as I rocked back and forth on his spike, reveling in the debasement evident by the puddle of cream on the mat under my cunt. If anything, I was happy to be spared the bobbing and bending of my throat to accommodate his log.

"She can deep throat like a fag. Shove it in deeper, but give her a chance to breathe once in awhile." Patrick crowed.

After he adjusted the focus of the camcorder, Patrick quickly slid under my steamy hole. He tugged on the nipple clamps while he sucked my bud. I protested when he moved his finger to the tailhook. He rimmed all around the tailhook, taking his good old time. Unable to express my ardor any other way, I vigorously flexed my toes. Taking note of my possible impending orgasm, Patrick returned to pressure my clit with his tongue, alternating by gently suckling my puffy, pussy lips.

He trained me to respond like Pavlov's dogs and quickly pulled off the nipple clamps as my pussy convulsed in a climax, causing my dick-stuffed mouth to open in a silent scream.

Jimmy took advantage of this golden opportunity to drive his tool deep in one lunge, but was not satisfied until the bulge in my throat was caused by his throbbing cock. He held onto my ponytail until his sperm jetted into my mouth. I swallowed instinctively, unable to take in air. I gagged and spewed. The thick, rank cum leaked from the corners of my mouth and nostrils. I openly cried when his cock softened and slipped out of my mouth. Then, the gentleman bartender used a cool washcloth to dab my battered face.

"My turn."

They lowered me to the ground and unhooked my sore tail. Relieved the worst was over, I begged for water and downed a full bottle with a straw. They gave me a few minutes to recover.

Jimmy brought along his favorite leather flogger with twenty-four tails. He had dreamed of using this on my teasing ass. He'd honed his strokes over the years on many a tender bum and knew how to vary the pace and strength of his strokes to bring the person to their final goal with mind-blowing ecstasy and pain.

Placed on my knees, breasts hanging over a padded bench, the sex acts had been all carefully planned and choreographed. This was going to be the last hurrah of the evening. Patrick nodded to Jimmy and soft strips of the flogger began to warm up my ass. Jimmy alternated from side to side with a steady rhythm to evenly marks the cheeks. I'd reached the point where the pain was almost unbearable and squawked in protestation, but Patrick grabbed my tongue and held it like a vise while he turned around and guided it to his musky ass. He encased my face between his murky cheeks and I passed out from lack of air. The smelling salts revived me and he began again. I'd figured if I didn't cooperate, he'd keep smothering me until I did.

Patrick rubbed himself back and forth on my tongue until his asshole opened like a flower. Probing deeply, I held my breath. Setting the bar on personal best for hardness, he fucked my pointed tongue while he jerked his cock to the mounting climax.

"That's it, rim my stinky asshole, you asslicking, fucking whore," he babbled breathlessly.

I was in no position to complain.

Meanwhile, Jimmy's dick came back to life at the sight of his work on my well-marked ass. He rubbed my ass cheeks as if they were hot cross buns. Scrambling for lube, he put a finger full around his cockhead and massaged the rest in my rosebud. Luckily, the tailhook had doubled for a butt plug. Jimmy fisted his tube steak and snaked it into the narrow passage, flying in the resistance of my sphincter.

"God, it feels SO good! Open up for daddy."

Jimmy gauged the flex of his cock by the sound of my grunts. At this point, his urgency to fully penetrate his princess was too much to control and I screamed as he speared the tender tissue. I tried to pull away but couldn't.

"Come back to daddy. It's going to be all better real soon," he crooned.

Feeling my nose poking further up his ass, Patrick's spunk boiled up from his swollen balls. He turned around and bathed my face with thick, salty strings of jism.

Jimmy grabbed my waist for leverage and forced me further back onto his dick. He was balls deep and I squeezed instinctively. Finding that a sign of acquiescence, he renewed the frantic pumping. He roughly grabbed a bobbing melon, twisting on the nipple. The slut in me loved the feeling of a full asshole being pistoned to its outer limits. I squeezed my rectum in staccato with impending orgasm. As Jimmy pushed me to the crest, I screamed as I stiffened, then, crumbled under him. The bull grabbed my lifeless body, and rabbit fucked me into oblivion, shooting his fluid inside my ravaged bowels.

This was sure to be a money making hit, the helpless form, skewered by two masked and muscled men, a receptacle for their spunk, and a classic picture of obscenity. And me, the bratty bitch from Cleveland, engineer of my own demise, wallowing in the pool of humiliation and sordid attention that was my destiny.