Why Me? Ch. 11

By the time we got back to the stable, I was a wreck. I'd lost track of how many times I'd come during that last desperate gallop through the field and I was draped over the horse's neck, the saddle and my thighs soaked by my dripping pussy, my ass clenching around my captor's softening cock. He had stayed hard after his first orgasm and had ridden me through another few of my own before grabbing my breasts hard and groaning as his cock had pulsed and spurted into my tender asshole. I could feel his come leaking out of me and mixing with my pussy juices to create a slick mess under me, and I wanted nothing more than to get off this horrible saddle and get clean.

We rode into a small courtyard on one side of the stable and my captor slid his cock out of my ass, making me gasp, and dismounted. He walked the horse over to a post and tied it in place before unfastening my wrists and the chains on the horse's bridle. He left my nipple clamps in place and then lifted me off the leather pommel and dumped me on the ground where I fell to me knees, unable to support my own weight. He hauled me to my feet and dragged me into the coolness of the stable, a welcome contrast from the pavement in the courtyard that had been uncomfortably warmed by the late afternoon sun. The stable itself was beautiful, all gleaming wood, immaculate floors and the clean smells of hay and leather. I could hear quiet voices from the other end of the building but I couldn't tell if they were male or female, let alone what was being said. I was led down the main corridor of the stable, past many beautiful horses and into a tack room with rows of saddles and other riding equipment on the walls. I noticed that many of the saddles had been altered like the one I'd just ridden, some with multiple leather cocks protruding from them. There were crops and whips on the walls too, and a selection of bits that looked too small for a horse. In the center of the room was a sawhorse with leather straps on it, and nearby a hay bale also bound with leather but the man ignored both of these, instead pushing me over to an empty spot against a wall and ordering me to kneel. I sank to me knees, spreading them as he used the toe of his boot to nudge at my thighs, and waited while he drew my hands up over my head and secured them to a ring set into the wall.

"Now, I don't believe in punishing sluts while they're all worn out." He said, "It keeps them from being able to properly focus on the punishment, and they don't learn as much from it. Plus, I like the anticipation of a punishment, the way you cunts get all worked up and scared while waiting for it. So, your punishment will be first thing in the morning. In the meantime, the grooms are all finishing up for the evening, and they need a reward. You're gonna suck off every man who walks into this room, and you're going to do a good job or I'll make your punishment even more unpleasant, do you understand?"

I nodded and then quickly caught myself as I saw the look on his face. "Yes, sir!" I gasped, anxious to avoid angering him.

"Good girl." he said, lightly stroking my cheek. "By the way, my name is Master Hawkes. You may refer to me by that name, or by Sir, but in no other way will you address me, clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. " and with that he pulled off my nipple clamps and walked away, leaving me crying out as the blood rushed back into my nipples. I hung my head and panted, trying to ignore the burning in my nipples until I heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see two young men enter the room. They were around my own age, both dressed in jeans and flannel shirts despite the heat of the day, and they grinned at the sight of my naked body.

"Oh good, new trainee." said one, and walked up to me, unzipping his jeans as he went. He pulled his half-erect cock out of his pants, placed a hand on the back of my head, and pushed his dick against my lips. I was shocked by the suddenness of it, but remembered Master Hawkes' orders and opened my mouth. He shoved his cock all the way in, groaning a bit, and began to fuck my mouth, occasionally pushing further back into my throat and making me gag. I tried to use my tongue on him, tried to suck, but he was too fast and too brutal and I soon gave up and just let him use me as he wished. I focused on breathing between his thrusts, my eyes watering as I gagged on his length, and I moaned around his cock as he began to speed up. I could feel him swelling in my mouth and he began to pant a bit, muttering under his breath about what a good little whore I was. Within minutes of starting, he gave a little cry and pulled his cock out, spraying semen all over my breasts before stepping back and slowly tucking his softening cock back into his jeans.

"Not bad." he said, and then turned and left the room. I knelt there, gasping, as the next man approached me, stroking his fully erect cock as he moved closer. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and twisted slightly, making me cry out. He seized the opportunity and shoved his cock all the way into my open mouth and down my throat. I gagged, pulling at the bindings on my wrists in panic as he began to brutally fuck my throat, sawing in and out, barely giving me enough time to breath as he pulled out before shoving his length all the way back in again. I was gagging and sobbing, tears running down my face, and when I looked up at him he slapped one of my breasts, hard. "Keep your eyes on my cock, whore." he said, and I quickly lowered my eyes and focused on not vomiting as he continued to use me. He, too, was quick and I was overwhelmingly relieved when, with a final grunt, he slammed himself all the way in and his cock began to pulse. I felt the come sliding down my throat and gagged again before he pulled out of me. He wiped his cock on my cheek before zipping up his pants and walking away, whistling cheerfully to himself. I grimaced, trying to ignore the taste of come in my mouth, and breathed deeply, absurdly grateful for the break.

I didn't have to wait long before another man came into the room. This one was older, perhaps in his fifties with grey peppered throughout his dark hair. He grinned when he saw me and grabbed a rag out of one of his back pockets. "I see the others got here first. No matter, I'll clean you up a bit and we'll have some fun." He said, wiping the come off my breasts and face. I was about to thank him, touched by this unexpected kindness, when he grabbed my nipples and began to tug on them, twisting and pulling just hard enough to hurt, but not so hard that it didn't make me gasp with arousal. I arched my back, trying to relieve the pressure on my poor breasts, but he just pulled harder, pinching my aching little nubs.

"Great tits." He sighed, and slapped one of them, hard. It bounced and swayed from side to side, and he did it again with the other one. "Oh yeah, I like that." He said, and proceeded to spank my breasts, making them bounce and shudder painfully. I cried out at each impact, the skin on my breasts turning a brilliant red and my nipples swelling and hardening. He noticed this and began to aim his blows for those abused, red peaks, making me yelp every time he connected. Very soon my breasts were bright red and very sensitive, and he once again grabbed my nipples and twisted. I began to cry and he let go of my painful nubs just long enough to unzip his jeans before shoving his cock in my mouth.

"Get it nice and wet, little girl." He moaned, stroking in and out. He fucked my mouth for a minute and then pulled out and bent his knees slightly, lining his cock up with the valley of my breasts. He grabbed the sides of them and pushed together and began to fuck my cleavage, groaning as he did it. I stared down, shocked and strangely aroused by the sight of his cockhead peeping out from between my red, swollen breasts, glistening with my saliva and his pre-come. He began to thrust harder, running his thumbs back and forth across my tender nipples as he went, calling me a dirty little girl for letting him fuck my tits. Just before he came, he slid his hands up my breasts and grabbed onto my nipples, hard, using them to pull the weight of my breasts together for him to fuck, and I screamed, the pain from those swollen, abused tips making me light headed. He cried out and started to come, shooting all over my breasts and stomach while I cried and tried to ignore the wrenching on my nipples. Finally he let go, and I moaned in relief as he used his rag to wipe down his cock before putting it away. He grinned at me and winked before leaving the tack room.

Several more men came in and used me before the end of the evening, all of them without any regard for my enjoyment or comfort. It was a harsh change from the treatment of my original abductors, and I was shocked by the trickle of wetness in my pussy every time a new cock slid into my mouth. If I had been horrified and ashamed at myself for being aroused when those men were deliberately trying to make me come, what sort of a horrible person was I for being turned on by having my mouth brutally raped by multiple men? I was confused, and ashamed, but I was so tired and sore that I couldn't even focus on why I should feel that way. I longed to have my hands free so I could touch my pussy, so I could make myself come, and though that desire filled me with even more shame, I couldn't care. What did it matter how I felt? These men had shown me they were more powerful, that they could do whatever they liked with me. Why should I fight it?

It was these thoughts that occupied my mind as the final man was shoving his cock down my throat, and when he finished with me I hung limply from my bindings and waited, numbly compliant. I was still staring at the floor when Master Hawkes returned and released my wrists from the wall, hauling me to my feet and dragging me back down the hallway. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and it wasn't til I noticed that the floor had become tile instead of cement that I looked up to see that we were in a large tiled room with hoses and nozzles all along the walls. Master Hawkes tied my wrists above my head to a bar along one wall and then tied my ankles shoulder width apart to one set against the floor. He grabbed one of the hoses and I flinched, expecting frigid water, but when he sprayed me down it was pleasantly hot. I relaxed into it, the warmth feeling good on my sore body, and closed my eyes. He drizzled me with a soap that smelled like apples and then grabbed a large sponge and began to rub it all over my body, concentrating on my breasts and between my legs. Despite myself I found I was getting turned on again, and when he slipped one finger into my pussy I moaned and pushed back on it. He stroked his finger in and out a few times before returning to sponging me down, and I whimpered in frustration. "Patience," he said, "You get to come if and when I allow it."

He rubbed some of the soap into my hair and began to massage my scalp, rubbing away the tension and leaving me feeling limp and boneless. I leaned against the wall, enjoying the cool tile on my sore nipples, and he trailed a finger down my back and pressed it against my asshole. I relaxed and it slid in, fucking me a few times before again withdrawing and leaving me in need. I moaned softly and then sighed as the warm water ran over me again, rinsing off all the soap. After a minute the water shut off and Master Hawkes began to rub me down with a large, soft towel, drying every nook and cranny of my body before releasing my wrists and ankles from the bar. He led me from the room and then down a corridor lined with identical doors. Choosing one, he opened it and led me inside what looked to be a replica of the room I'd been kept in when I'd first been abducted. He lay me down on the floor and secured my wrists and ankles to straps set into the matting and then lightly stroked my breasts, teasing my nipples as he went.

"Good slut, you did very well tonight. Normally, I would reward you for that, but since you still have a punishment owing, I can't." he slid his hand down to my pussy as he spoke and gently teased my clit, making me buck my hips upwards to try to get a firmer contact on it. He chuckled and pulled a small vibrator with a clitoral attachment from a pouch at his waist and slid it into my grasping pussy before turning it on low. "Like I said before, a tired slut is a well behaved one, and a slut with cocks in her holes is a happy one. I doubt you'll be able to come from this, but it sure will make sleeping difficult. I'll see you in the morning for your punishment." And with that, he left. I lay on the floor, the vibrator buzzing in my pussy and against my clit, hovering on the edge of an orgasm and straining and twisting my body, trying to get more contact. It was no use, and after a while I drifted off to an unsettled sleep where I again dreamed of hard, thrusting cocks. I woke up many times in the night, crying out in need, but the vibrator just kept humming, always too gently to make me come. I cried, I begged the unseen men I hoped were watching me, I struggled against my bonds, all uselessly. Eventually I fell asleep, really asleep, and didn't wake up until the door to my cell opened again.