Weather Girl

He removed the gag and watched her work her mouth and jaw, trying to get it to feel normal again. She looked up at him from her kneeling position, eye begging, fear mixed with something else... was she actually enjoying this? Perhaps this weather girl was a bit more kinky than her TV image let on. Looking carefully at her face and perfect body he considered. She had actually done well with the blow job. She'd been able to tolerate the deep thrusts. She'd been trained.

Heather sat back. Her ankles were still secured and spread, but she sat her ass down on her thighs and rested. She got her breathing under control, let the bile from her stomach drain from her nose and clear. She recovered. That had been perhaps the second worst deep throat she'd ever done. She'd made it though.

It was then she saw the camera. It was mounted on a tripod across the room. She had no idea if it was taking still pictures or video, but she realized with a sudden shock that everything that was happening was being recorded. Photos of her tied and begging, gagging and choking, sucking cock. Humiliation washed over her. But her attention was suddenly redirected to between her legs.

He reached down and fondled her cunt, feeling for her clit, spreading her lips and finding it. She couldn't help but react when he hit it. It was so sensitive and she moaned very slightly and turned her head when his finger slid across it.

He continued rubbing. She tried on to show any response but it was impossible. He had found her spot and was rubbing gently but insistently and her nipples were going erect and she was flushing and she couldn't help it.

"You like this. I can see you like it, don't try to hide it, you slut," he said.

She said nothing, trying to keep her composure. She had no dignity, but the presence of the camera made her somehow want to put up a show. She was a celebrity. Perfectly made up, perfectly presented, perfect on the TV screen. The idea that images of her were being captured as she was broken down and made into a complete cock worshiping slut... was just unbearable.

"Beg for it, slut. Beg me to make you cum," he said to her, and at first she was silent but then shook her head in defiance.

Jake took his hand away from her clit and Heather sighed in relief. It had felt too good, she didn't want to enjoy what was going on, but she had liked it.

Jake returned and had four clothespins. Heather saw what was coming and tried to stop him as he reached to her left breast. She moved away as best she could, then tried shaking her boobs to keep him from getting her nipple but he grabbed her breast and pulled it out. Heather cursed her large breasts as Jake squeezed and grabbed it, and slid the clothespin over the end.

He released it suddenly and the pain hit fast and hard. She gasped, and swore, surprised by just how tight the clip was and how bad it hurt.

"Ohwww... oh, fuckfuckfuck... please, Jake, please don't hurt me any more."

With her wrists secured behind her back there was nothing she could do as he slipped the second clothespin onto her right nipple. The pain wasn't as surprising, but just as bad. Tears came to her eyes and she looked down, observing her poor nipples crushed.

"Open your mouth, bitch. Stick out your tongue," Jake demanded. He had the third clothespin.

"No!" She retorted, shaking her head.

"Well, these are going on your body someplace... you are right. Maybe I should find a different place for them." He moved the open clamp down between her legs, with the fingers of his left hand massaging and spreading her flesh to expose her sensitive clit."

"No, no! Please, Jake, not there. Please no! Don't, I will stick my tongue out, please, look!"

She stuck her tongue out to show him.

He ignored her and a second later the clamp closed around her clit and she gasped, "Ohmygod... ohmygod... "

It hurt like fuck and there was nothing she could do about it.

Jake was pleased at her reactions. He liked seeing her moan in pain. Heather probably didn't realize this was relatively mild pain, she had been exposed to so little of it. To her, it was sudden and severe and was reacting like her body was in agony.

He sat back and watched her for a bit as she wriggled. She had such a fine body. Not too skinny, but not too thick. Large boobs, nice shaped waist, wider hips and a gorgeous little pick pussy that now had a clothespin dangling from it. She was shaking her boobs back and forth, trying to get the clothespins dislodged, but they were on too tightly. It was fun watching her body jiggle around like that. She couldn't move around enough to try and shake the clit clamp off, she just endured that.

And she was begging. She was still Heather, the weather girl, but she was so different now- stripped, naked, in pain, body fluid slimy all over her breasts and stomach, begging for mercy. He sat back and spread his legs, stroking his cock a little as she writhed before him and let her beg for a while. She'd be ready soon.

Ah. There it was. She was offering to do anything for him if he'd just removed the clamps.

"Anything?" he said. Heather nodded, tears trickling down her cheeks. Thank goodness she hadn't worn any mascara that morning, she thought.

"Well, you already gave me a nice blow job. How about you show off your fucking skills for me, eh slut? Tell me you want that."

Heather was ready. She had no problem fucking him if he'd take the damn clamps off.

"Yes, please. Jake, I will fuck you. I will fuck you like my best lover, I will make you cum. I need your cock inside me, Jake. Deep inside. Take me, OK? Take me and fuck me as hard as you can! Just... take off the clamps, pplleeaassee..."

She screamed. It was the first really loud scream she had made since arriving. When the clamp came off there was a sudden surge of pain, worse than when it first went on. Heather swore and cried in a most unladylike manner. She thought of how degraded she was, how debased, humiliated, and was thankful no one would ever know what she was going though.

He moved to the second clamp and held it for just a moment and she gritted her teeth, preparing. This one though, he didn't just release. He pulled it off. The pain was sooo much worse and she cried out, not a scream really, but a long wail of pain as her nipple stretched and resisted the clamp and the pain got worse and worse and suddenly the clamp slid off and she yelped and sobbed.

"You have the prettiest little puss," he said to her. The pain in her nipples had distracted her from the pain in her clit, but she was being reminded. He flicked the clothespin a couple of times and got up from his chair.

When he returned he had a camera. A different one from the one mounted on the tripod. She was humiliated by it. He was going to photograph her body close up.

"You are just too pretty not to document, you know?" He said and took a photo of her boobs. He zoomed in on each nipple, and she looked down at them. They felt like they should be raw, bleeding, bruised, but they weren't. They were small indentations where the clips had been but otherwise they looked normal.

He moved the camera to take a closeup of her cunt, with the clip on the clit.

"Please take it off now, please..." she begged. Was it true that it wasn't hurting as bad? It still hurt terribly, but it was almost numb. Until he removed the clothespin and once again the pain hit her hard and she yelped.

A few more close up photos of her face, her breasts, the shiny fluid all over her chin, neck and breasts. She'd promised to fuck him, was that what was coming next? Would he let her go to do that?

Jake looked at the broken girl in front of him. She had agreed to fuck him and looked ready. He'd give it a try. He wanted to feel her body under him, her hips under his. her breasts against his chest. He wanted to look her in the eyes while he was inside her.

He unbuckled her ankles from the bottom of the cross. Instead of getting up and trying to run away, she fell forward, flat on the ground.

For the first time he noticed her ass. What a gorgeous ass it was. Round, firm, with the hint of pussy lips peaking out just below. He gave it a swat and watched it bounce.

"Onto the bed," he said.

She obeyed. It was hard getting up because her wrists were still restrained behind her, but she managed and went over, throwing herself on the bedspread.

"Spread the legs," he ordered, and she did. He took a few more pictures then set that camera aside. The one on the tripod he adjusted, moving it into place as she waited obediently on the bed.

Heather lay on the bed, letting him take pictures of her. Years ago, before she had become a weather girl, she had done some nude shoots. She needed money. This was far from the first set of nudes. But those others... she had been made up, posed, good lighting, they were... raunchy but dignified. This stuff? It made her look like a slut.

She felt him unclip her wrists. The cuffs were still on her wrists and ankles so she felt sort of like she was still in bondage, but she wasn't. Not really.

"Turn over," her ass stung with a hard slap. Nothing compared to the whipping or clamps. She rolled over and spread her legs automatically.

It was amazing how the bitch obeyed him. As if she had done this before. She rolled over and spread her knees wide, bending them. Her cunt was there, ready for him and glistening... wet? Yes, wet.

He reached in and felt it.

"Oh my little slut. You are such a whore. You are getting off on this, you are as wet as can be. Here, taste this."

He took his fingers, covered with her fluids, and placed them in her mouth. She opened reluctantly and sucked on them, but made a face and turned away. Tears were tricking very slowly from the corners of her eyes.

She knew what she tasted like. What brought the humiliation was that he was right. She was a slut. This had been turning her on. It was more intense than anything she had ever done, including that threesome with the two executives from the network that landed the job. That had been a complete dud, but this... this was intense. And she wanted him inside. She'd never admit it, but she wanted his cock.

Closing her eyes and feeling the tickle of tears squeezed out she waited. And it came. His hands grabbed her wrists and pushed them up over her head and held them there firmly. She felt his cock at her lips between her legs, slowly pushing in.

It slid in easily. Heather bit her lip, not with pain but with humiliation at how easily he slipped in.

And then he was inside, all the way, stretching her wide.

At first he slid in and out slowly, getting the feeling, getting as hard as possible. Then harder, deeper, then hard as he could, ramming her between her legs like a jackhammer. His body was heavy on her, her hands and arms useless as he held them down with a strong grip. But mostly it was his cock, filling her and rearranging her insides. She would be bruised from this, she was convinced.

She pulled her knees up instinctively. She was being being fucked and that was how she was reacting. She was fucking. Her knees went up high, her legs hooked behind his and her hips started a motion together with his thrusts. She was panting, feeling it, feeling him deep inside feeling him on top of her, forcing her, making her cum.

And she was cumming. She was going to cum very soon, there was a warmth building in her. She didn't care if she was a slut at that point. She just wanted to cum, to achieve orgasm, to be taken and forced to cum by this man that had hurt her. She shifted her hips, trying to get his cock to rub her clit. It was soooo sensitive, still hurting, but his cock still felt good when he slid up against it.

In a grunt she said out loud, "Oh god I am going to cum..."

She did. She shuddered, her arms trying to reach up and wrap around him, but they couldn't, he still held her down. She whimpered, frustrating mixing with the flood of pleasure. Instead she bucked her hips, thrusting upwards to meet him, letting that be the expression of her orgasm. She grunted, a very unlady-like grunt, a noise that would shock her viewers, but it came out partly from her orgasm and partly pushed out by his weight and his thrusts.

He was still thrusting hard but as she came down from her own orgasm he suddenly pulled out. Her cunt was sloppy with juices and it made a small sound as he pulled out quickly and moved up to her face. Her arms suddenly free she reached up to his cock and grabbed it, stroking it hard, pointing it right at her face.

"OOooofffffuuuccckkkk you slut whore..." he cried out as he cock began to pulse.

Jake's cock was slippery wet, lubed well and she jerked it expertly. He was ready, he had been ready to cum inside her but had gotten out just in time because he wanted to slime her face. I wanted to see his cum smear and spurt all over that gorgeous face he saw on TV every morning. He had expected to stroke himself but she did it. Hard and fast, paying attention to the head it was like she was pulling the cum from inside him.

He watched as he shot all over the place. It was the strongest cum he'd had in a long while, with a force he didn't expect. The first spurt went past her face and into her hair and over her ear. The second made it right into her eye and forehead.

Watching his cum spurt out on Heather was an orgasm all by itself. She took it, and kept jacking him as he spurt a third time onto her mouth and nose. He was making noises, he didn't care what because his orgasm was just so powerful. He wanted it to go on forever. The forth and fifth spurts landed on her cheek.

She slowed her jerking and he panted, hips thrust out toward her face, as his cum slowed and began to dribble out instead of shoot. She kept him going for a while, but finally he was spent.

She lay exhausted and reached up to slide the cum off her eye with one finger. The finger automatically went into her mouth. Not what you would do from a rape, but... it didn't entirely feel like a rape. She'd enjoyed it too much, had her own orgasm, and demanded, assisted, enticed his sperm onto her face.

Panting and sweating, she lay on the bed as he flopped down next to her, one hand reaching over to her stomach.

He handed her a tissue. She used it to clean her face.

After a while she tentatively felt her nipples. Sore, but OK. Nothing that had happened would leave any marks.

She was free, though she was still wearing the ankle and wrist cuffs. She could get up and run, cry rape if she wanted. He was exhausted next to her, his cock limp.

Instead, she got up and took a shower. Her body had body fluids all over it, both her own and his. It was quick and she got out and got dressed. He was still naked and on the bed.

She stopped and looked at him with a frown. "That fucking hurt," she said.

"I know. I've been on that cross too. But you have to admit, that just might have been the best orgasm of your life."

She would never admit it, but it was true. The endorphins had flowed from the pain and the exotic, weird experience and when the orgasm finally came it had been a blast.

As she walked out the door he called, "Next Saturday, eleven o'clock."

She said nothing as she closed the door and walked out.

A couple days later Jake watched the TV and saw a gorgeous weather girl named Heather give the report. She looked perfect. Prim, proper, coiffed, professional. He had trouble thinking of her with straggly hair, naked, boobs bouncing, drooling, screaming in pain but begging for orgasm.

At the end of the forecast Heather said one thing. that made him smile. "The coming rain is making my bones creak a bit, Jim, but I found a new doc last Saturday. Gave me a treatment that's really helped and given me a new lease on life. I think I'll go see him again this weekend, see if he can fix me up."

Jake smiled and pulled out a photo of Heather in full naked slippery slut mode, approaching orgasm.