Section 9 - Hamburg
Part 1 - Warm-up Games!
Chapter 1 - The Singing Birds
In their Hamburg hotel room, Penny and Nicole lounged in their bra and
panties, wondering what to do on their prize trip to the city. Nicole was
indignant. She had been looking through the guidebook, trying to find an
exciting tour or a fun site, reading about the Reperbahn.
"The Herbertstrasse! Imagine having a street where they don't allow
women! As if all perverts were men!"
Penny had a very British explanation.
"It's because they're ignorant foreigners! Anyone who attended an
English boarding school would know better than that! I wonder who Herbert was?"
"Herbert the Pervert?"
"Going for a spurt and squirt!"
The girls giggled. Nicole ran her fingers around the waistband of her
knickers to ease the pressure. She liked them tight and snug to show off her
pouty cuntlips, but it was sometimes a bit uncomfortable. She arched her back
restlessly. Her nipples were clearly visible through her sheer bra.
"Well, what should we do? Should we visit that underground S&M club like
the tour guide suggested? Might be better than the stupid old Reperbahn with
streets we aren't even allowed on!"
Penny was scornful.
"Going to an Underground S&M club called Die Singvogel? I looked it up
and it means the Singing Birds. How corny! Who thinks up these things?"
Nicole laughed.
"Well, at least it's a bit more subtle than the one that's called Club
De Sade. That's not even German! I bet Die Singvogel is just a scam to suck in
the tourists! There'll be a fat, leather-clad hausfrau with a whip dipped in
rouge that has all the force of a feather duster, but leaves a red trail on the
blubbery victim's back so it looks like those lame whippings in the movies! The
fat hausfrau will probably sound like the evil Gestapo captain in those stupid
war films: Ve haff vays to make you zing like a bird, fraulein!"
Penny, who read far too many romances, agreed.
"The languishing, overweight victim will probably be stifling a yawn as
she emits a half-hearted cry of anguish."
Nicole, always anxious to appear a woman of the world, had a suggestion.
"You're absolutely right, but here's an idea: we could colour it up a
bit when we tell everyone back in Woking. Our friends in Surrey will never know
the difference! The farthest abroad they ever get is a trip to the pub! The fat
hausfrau becomes a busty, cruel-eyed vixen! The rouge-dipped wet noodle becomes
a cracking bullwhip! The blubbery, bored victim becomes a tough, but gorgeous,
beat-me bitch, in love with pain, forced to kiss the very whip that lashes her
pitilessly!"
Penny grinned.
"Let's do it!"
In another room of the same hotel, Shannon pulled a green silk camisole
over her big boobs.
"I'm going to sleep like a log, Ashley!"
"You always do! Once you're out, you'd miss the last trump! If only you
didn't snore like a chainsaw!"
Shannon threw a pillow at Ashley.
"Get away, you evil minded slut!"
"What are you complaining about? That's my best feature!"
Clad in a skimpy baby doll outfit, lovely Ashley pirouetted in front of
the mirror.
"What do you think, Shannon?"
Shannon stifled an elaborately overdone yawn.
"Oh, you'll do, I guess."
Shannon ducked the pillow that Ashley threw back at her and grinned.
"That's only if gorgeous, busty, blue-eyed blonds ever come back into
fashion. It's too bad for you, but lucky for me, that Irish redheads are all the
rage these days!"
The redheaded fireball from Dublin pranced prettily in her green silk
camisole, exuding Celtic charm. She did her American Valley Girl imitation.
"At least you can't see my dark red nipples through what I'm wearing!
Those pretty pink paps are so obvious and so yesterday! That baby doll outfit of
yours doesn't cover up anything! Gag me with a spoon! Why, a blind man could
see that you were a natural blond! Get some subtlety, girl!"
She pulled down her green silk panties, revealing a thick thatch of dark
red pubic hair. She pumped her hips lewdly.
"Take your cue from me! I, ever so subtly, flash my gash and they know
that I'm as red as Margaret Thatcher's cunt hole!"
Ashley laughed.
"That's what I admire about you, Shannon: your subtle, understated
elegance!"
Shannon rasped out her Marlon Brando Godfather imitation.
"Ya gotta be crass to get some ass!"
"Too late today! We'll cruise for some tomorrow. Hamburg, watch out! The
wild women of Woking have landed!"
"We have to get a more upscale address! Woking is so out of it! By the
way, I saw those two lamebrain bimbos that run that herbal teashop. It looks
like they're here on vacation, staying in this hotel. I saw them coming and
ducked out of the way. Be on the lookout. You've been warned!"
"Penny and Nicole? Maybe Hamburg is becoming a place for Hamburgers!"
Shannon bulged her eyeballs and gawked about like a slack-jawed yokel,
in imitation of the aforementioned lame brained bimbos.
"Gorsh, Nicole, is that what the people of Hamburg are called?"
"The thieves are called Hamburglars! Ronald MacDonald feels right at
home here, Miss Penny-for-your-thoughts-and-they're-overpriced-at-that!"
They had a good gigglesnort over that one. Shannon and Ashley loved
taking the Mickey out of Penny and Nicole. Their hilarious imitations of the two
herbal teashop owners were highly regarded in the pubs of Woking. There was
little love lost between the two pairs of women. So far, all the battles of wit
had gone very much in favour of the young, smart, upwardly mobile fashion
models. In a battle of wits, Penny and Nicole were un-armed and defenceless.
Their success was due to good looks combined with Nicole's sperm-sucking skills.
Ashley had news on the subject of hanging out in the boondocks with the
local yokels.
"Don't worry about Woking! I've got a line on a London apartment. We'll
move there soon and hit the big time! Very posh!"
Shannon did her Mr. Burns imitation. She steepled her fingers and arched
her eyebrows smugly.
"Excellent, Smithers!"
The two young lovelies giggled hysterically.
Ashley had been surprised when Smedley Hargreaves' secretary, Michelle,
had phoned to tell her that she had won some sort of customer draw at the local
bank, the prize being an all-expense-paid week for two in Hamburg. She had to
answer a skill-testing question. She had been a history major at university (a
fact that was on her customer record). Surprise! Surprise! It turned out that
the former history major knew that the Battle of Hastings was in 1066.
As Smedley had hoped, Ashley invited her bosom buddy Shannon along. This
blatant attempt at bribery hadn't stopped Ashley from ratting out Smedley's
nasty attempt at sexual blackmail to Lillith. They were blissfully ignorant of
the fact that Lillith and Becky were now screaming their way through painshows
at a local underground S&M club, demonstrating how wide a cunt or asshole could
be stretched, how many heated pins could be jabbed into a clit and how long a
bitch could hang from her skewered breasts. They had their nipples, cuntlips and
rectums swabbed with flaming, alcohol-dipped q-tips prior to intimate
penetrations, enema parties and painfully obscene group gropes. For relaxation,
they demonstrated the use of powerful nipple, breast, clit and genital clamps as
well as a wide range of bondage gear, cinched to eyeball-popping tightness. An
intense, gut-gripping lifestyle is guaranteed for beautiful babes in the brutal
hands of vicious pain freaks.
Ashley and Shannon hadn't liked the hotel's slimy desk clerk, but they
had confidently played him like they played all men, teasing him on and letting
him think that he had a chance at their voluptuous lesbian bods. He had
responded to the two beauties like all those with two testicles and a dick.
Playing the besotted fool to perfection, the smarmy little twerp had obligingly
given them a quiet, soundproof room at the back of the hotel. It had a great
view of Hamburg harbour where the container ship Pussy Maru was soon to deliver
its delectable cargo to a gathering of the most savage sexual predators on the
planet.
Shannon moved up close and cupped one of Ashley's superdroopers with a
moist palm.
"I suppose you think that this is the tallest free-standing structure in
the world!"
"Don't be silly, Shannon! That's the CN Tower in Toronto! What you're
looking at are numbers two and three!"
Shannon bounced Ashley's tits speculatively.
"Question is: which is number two and which is, sadly, number three?"
Ashley's hand dipped inside Shannon's green silk panties.
"Ooooo! I think I know who has the tallest free-standing clit in
Europe!"
Shannon dipped her hand inside Ashley's baby doll. Her green eyes
widened in mock surprise.
"It's you, Ashley! You shameless slut! You're throbbing like a
motorcycle!"
"You're as wet as the Liffey at high tide, you Irish lesbyterian!"
Shannon did John Wayne.
"Them's fighting' words, pilgrim! Ah reckon it's gonna be the
Cath-o-licks versus the lesbyterians!"
The tips of their tongues brushed lightly. They sank onto the bed, mouths
locked, muscular tongues questing eagerly. Lesbian fingers fondled, caressed and
groped knowingly.
Ashley pulled up Shannon's green camisole and kissed the pale pink
nipples of Shannon's pale white breasts. She licked and sucked them erect, then
moved her tongue and lips down Shannon's well-muscled, flat belly, kissing and
nipping gently at the smooth pliant flesh. Shannon felt the hot, burning lips on
her stomach and arched up to meet Ashley's warm mouth and tongue.
Shutting her eyes and drifting with the sensations, Shannon moaned in
half-conscious pleasure. Peeling down Shannon's green silk panties, Ashley
smothered herself in Shannon's beauty and warmth. She sucked and kissed
Shannon's soft flesh and lowered her mouth to the slowly squirming mound covered
by red, richly curled pubic hair. She pressed her teeth into the soft thick
thatch.
Savouring each moment, taking her time, she licked and enjoyed the heat
of Shannon's moist cunt on her face. Gently, she moved Shannon's legs apart and
kissed the pink lips of her soft vagina. She eased her tongue into the narrow
opening and felt Shannon's tremulous response.
Shannon moaned ecstatically as Ashley spread her thighs wide. Ashley
placed her thumbs on the quivering lips of Shannon's tight little cunt and
spread them open. She slid her long tongue inside ever so gently and then forced
it in further until all of its tantalizing wetness was tight inside the walls of
Shannon's hot vagina, tasting her juices. Ashley breathed heavily as she
laboured between her lover's legs.
Shannon groaned deeply in pornerastic bliss as Ashley moved her tongue in
and out, deftly moving Shannon's small, erect clit back and forth with each
movement of her tongue. Shannon pumped her hips gently to meet Ashley's lingual
probing. She groaned as Ashley withdrew her tongue and blew softly on her
swollen cuntlips. Ashley snaked her tongue back into Shannon's vaginal passage
and then licked the small bridge of flesh between cunt and rectum. Shannon's
puckered anus opened to Ashley's probing tongue like a flower to a hummingbird.
Every time Ashley's tongue or teeth moved her clit, Shannon's hips bucked
up to welcome the raging fire it caused within the very core of her being. She
felt her need growing rapidly. It crested in a fiery orgasmic wave, breaking and
spilling over her. She came in pleasurable waves of sublime relief, fluids
oozing out from the depths of her young, quivering belly and warming her
insides.
Her crotch pressed hard, shuddering against Ashley's gasping, dripping
face. She emitted a brief cry of cataclysmic ecstasy and fell back.
Shannon rolled over on her side selfishly and instantly fell asleep,
snoring loudly. Ashley giggled, spooned up against her back and joined her in
the arms of Morpheus.
Chapter 2 - Hitch Bitch
Ingrid put her backpack on the front desk of the hotel. The clerk eyed
the blond Swedish backpacker appreciatively. Her halter-top, cut-off jeans and
hiking boots did nothing to diminish the blond beauty's youthful charms.
"May I help you, fraulein?"
Hitch-hiking through Europe, Ingrid had fought with her friends and
stomped off in a huff.
"Ja! I tire of youth hostels! I wish a room to myself!"
The clerk made some light conversation as he pretended to query the
computer.
"What brings you to Hamburg, fraulein?"
"We are backpacking through Europe. My friends want me to pay for
everything! I tell them no! Go away. I am good-looking! I have money! I will do
much better without you leeches. So now I am here, on my own, to live well."
She looked at him flirtatiously. She was a tease who loved playing men
for fools. She stretched languidly to make it crystal clear to the clerk that
she wasn't wearing a bra. He eyed her halter-top appreciatively.
"You can get me a good room?"
Reluctantly drawing his eyes upward to her face, the front desk clerk
smiled engagingly.
"Absolutely! I have a special luxury room just for you! It's at the
back, has no nosy, noisy neighbours and commands a beautiful view of the
harbour!"
Ingrid batted her eyelashes and looked at the clerk soulfully with her
cornflower blue eyes.
"It will not be too expensive?"
The clerk, an old roue, did his best to blush and look suitably
flustered.
"For you, a special discount for a very lovely lady!"
Ingrid looked smug, a haughty beauty secure in her power to melt men's
minds while stiffening other parts. Ingrid jiggled all her delectable assets
smoothly, as the muscular porter led her to the back of the hotel. As they
watched the rear view appreciatively, the head porter nudged the check-in clerk.
"Ein Goldfisch! (A goldfish, slang for a young rich bitch)"
"Nicht ein backfisch! (Not one you throw back i.e. up to snuff, so to
speak)"
The muscular porter led Ingrid to the back of the motel.
"Wow! This is way back! Very secluded!"
The muscular porter nodded. He opened the door to her room and stood
aside politely to let the young beauty enter the dark room first.
"The light switch is to your left, fraulein."
As lovely Ingrid stepped through the doorway, groping futilely on her
left for the switch, he shoved her hard from behind.
Ingrid flew into the room, stumbled over the rug and belly-flopped onto
the floor. The muscular porter reached to the right, snapped on the lights,
stepped back out of the room and shut the door firmly.
Winded by her belly flop, Ingrid looked up into the most ice-cold pair
of eyes she had ever seen. The leather bitch eyed her coolly, the syringe in her
hand. She pressed the plunger and sprayed the contents of the syringe onto the
carpet next to Ingrid. The carpet began to smoke. Ingrid hurriedly scurried away
from it. The leather bitch spoke one word as she put the empty syringe down on a
small table and picked up an identical full one.
"Acid."
Ingrid looked at her in fear.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to stay on the floor and take off your clothes."
Ingrid started to unlace her hiking boots.
"What happens after I take off my clothes?"
The leather bitch's voice cracked like a whip.
"Just do it!"
Ingrid flinched. She pulled off her boots and socks, revealing
beautifully formed feet. Ingrid pulled up and jerked off her halter-top. Her big
breasts spilled out, jiggling enchantingly. She was one of those naughty girls
that don't believe in underwear. She pulled down her cut-off jeans and was
naked.
The leather bitch eyed Ingrid coolly in a quick head to toe appraisal.
What she saw met with her approval: tight buns, big tits with a nice natural
jiggle to them, large red nipples, long athletic legs, fingernails and toenails
nicely buffed and polished.
Her eyes lingered insolently on Ingrid's crotch. Girls who shaved their
pussies smooth like that were always fucksluts, so maybe lovely blond Ingrid
wasn't all tease as the desk clerk had thought. No sense shaving it if you
weren't going to show it to anyone. She wasn't bothering to cover up either, the
shameless hussy.
The leather bitch tossed her a ball gag.
"Put the ball in your mouth and buckle the leather strap attached to it
behind your head."
Ingrid obligingly gagged herself.
The leather bitch handed Ingrid a pair of black leather panties with two
huge dildoes attached to the inside. She helpfully tossed her a tube of
lubricant.
"Just grease those big babies up and slip on this intimate little
number, sweetmeat."
Ingrid eyed the long, thick, ribbed dildoes, turning them nervously in
her slim fingers. She glanced fearfully at the gleaming sharp needle on the
syringe of acid and slowly began to grease the wonderfully intrusive reamers.
Her mouth was full of rubber ball. Questions, protests and negotiations
were no longer options for Ingrid. The leather bitch had some helpful advice.
"Get up on your knees. Slather on lots and lots of lubricant. It's going
to be a tight squeeze!"
Grimacing, Ingrid took her time greasing up the thick dildoes with her
small, dainty fingers. She slipped her legs into the panties, got up on her
knees and parted her thighs. She pulled the leather panties up until the heads
of the dildoes were resting against her most intimate orifices. Her hands dipped
between her legs, gripping the thick dildoes at their base. She grunted and her
small, perfect toes curled as she slowly eased them in, stretching her holes
very wide indeed.
"Put your hands behind your back, palms together."
A long leather sleeve was pulled over her hands and arms. It was cinched
tight.
The muscular porter, an old hand at timing these things, arrived with a
dolly just as Ingrid was being coaxed into a large metal box. Ingrid knelt in
the box.
"Bend over so your nipples touch your thighs."
Ingrid hunched over. The lid was slammed shut and locked. The porter
checked that the small air holes were free and loaded the trunk onto the dolly.
A short while later, Ingrid was being prepped for her debut as a songbird
at Die Singvogel. Inside a small amphitheatre lecture hall next to Die
Singvogel, the trunk containing the groaning beauty was dumped on the small
stage next to a T-shaped restraining bar set in the floor. The amphitheatre
seats were filled with eager perverts.
Dr. Mandro was delighted as he opened the trunk. With the light
reflecting from the half moons of his thick-lensed glasses, he looked the very
essence of a Gestapo torturer. He helped the muscular handlers secure her wrists
to either end of the T-shaped bar. He pulled down her leather dildo panties,
easing the thick ribbed invaders from her warm holes. Ingrid's shapely legs were
spread and her dainty ankles were fastened to heavy ringbolts set in the wooden
floor of the small stage.
In the middle of the top bar holding her slim wrists were two padded
steel plates, a vice like arrangement. Grabbing a fistful of her golden hair, he
jerked her head backwards so that Ingrid was staring upwards. He clamped her
head between the padded plates. He pinched her nipple hard. In unwitting
compliance, she opened her mouth to protest. He forced the metal pear into her
mouth. He began twisting the key on the end, operating a mechanism like a
miniature car jack. The two halves of the pear separated, forcing her mouth
achingly wide.
Dr. Mandro liked working up close and personal. He removed his white lab
coat. All the watchers chuckled appreciatively. Dressed like a classic flasher,
he was naked underneath except for his shoes, socks and some pantlegs tied off
just above the knee. He strutted comically for the audience packing the
amphitheatre, a small man with a large organ.
"I'm like the battery - Ever Ready!"
After a brief laugh, the small audience settled in to watch him prep a
songbird for some serious singing.
He stood in front of the panting beauty on a small, motorized platform
that moved up and down in a well so that a rapist could get a perfect hip to
groin match with his victim. Ingrid's naked body arched forward, trembling
against his. She emitted a small squeal as his thick dick parted her cuntlips
and her hot hole was forced to swallow his manhood.
He pulled down the slow speed dental drill from it's ceiling rack and
went to work on her back molars, pumping steadily with his manrod while she
squirmed and writhed hotly against him, her nipples fear-hardened acorns
scrubbing his chest. The smell of scorched bone filled the air as the drill
burrowed into her teeth. Ingrid squealed shrilly as Dr. Mandro, his gleaming
eyes rendered huge by the thick lenses, expertly located the exquisitely
sensitive nerves.
Ingrid's nude, straining body convulsed frantically around his turgid rod
as white-hot shafts of whirring, grinding agony pierced her brain. Using the
dental drill, he mined the seams of pain in her teeth like a prospector,
exploring for nuggets of the purest anguish, her tremulous, quivering nakedness
pressed tightly against his. He inserted electrical wires into the holes in her
teeth and cemented them in place. The torture gouged channels of pure agony into
her very soul. A sensitive man with a perfect sense of the occasion, he came
inside her as he finished cementing the last wire in place.
He pulled his male plug from her female socket and, in an act of
consideration towards any future rapists, wiped Ingrid's dripping thighs.
"Does anybody care to keep our little songbird amused while I connect up
the wires and adjust the voltage, amperage and pulsing of the current?"
He hadn't finished making his kind offer before eager rapists were
surging onto the stage. Ingrid groaned as the first penis plugged into her
fuckhole and began reaming her hard.
As her hot, tight hole was opened time and again, Dr. Mandro
experimented, giving each rapist a squealing, squirming fucktoy rubbing her big
breasts with their fear-hardened nipples against his chest. He turned Ingrid
into a hot cunt that was wrapped unwillingly, and clamped tightly, around each
team creamer's plunging penis.
At last, each rapist had pounded his oyster juice into her gut hole.
In the corner of the room was her 'birdcage', a gleaming chrome cage
three feet high. Ingrid was released from the T-bar and fitted with neck, wrist
and ankle cuffs. Her wrists were fastened helplessly to the back of her neck
collar and she was forced into the terrible constriction of the cage. Her thighs
were splayed wide. Her ankles were fastened to either side of the cage, the
ankle cuffs pulling up and forcing her to balance on the balls of her feet.
The cage door clanged shut. Ingrid perched awkwardly on one of the thick
bars crossing the bottom of the cage, her spine painfully curved in her
three-foot-high domed prison.
Wiping his glasses with a handkerchief, Dr. Mandro stared into the eyes
of the caged woman squatting helplessly before him, her private parts displayed
obscenely. His small, childlike eyes surveyed her lush trembling nudity. Her
flat belly fluttered as he stroked it. Her smooth shaven cuntlips, hot to the
touch and fully distended, were a delight to grope. The puckered ring of her
anus tightened as she tried futilely to reject him. He delighted in her look of
revulsion as he took intimate liberties with her.
Squatting, breasts jutting just above her knees, Ingrid groaned in misery
as she felt Dr. Mandro's clammy hands on her body, expertly inserting the metal
probes into her vagina and anus, stretching and filling them with cold metal. He
rolled her nipples between his fingers. When he was satisfied with their stiff
erectness, he snapped the sharp-toothed clips onto her teats. Their cruel bite
made her grimace. She whimpered as he clipped rows of electrodes to her cuntlips
and sobbed as he clipped one onto her clit. His fingers worked deftly as he
wired up the most sensitive portions of her anatomy so that she would sing high
and clear for the crowd when she was mounted in her cage on display in the club.
"Being a victim is sweaty work. We wouldn't want you dying of
dehydration."
He began pushing the clear plastic feeding tube into her nostril.
"Swallow. I wouldn't want to push it into your lungs by mistake."
Eyes watering, Ingrid swallowed frantically as he pushed the tube into
her trachea and down her oesophagus. He hooked the tube up to the pump; to feed
her a steady supply of water mixed with a cocktail of chemicals designed to keep
her wide-awake, cramped up and screaming. He grinned at his audience.
"When a paramedic evaluates a victim, one of the first things he checks
is their degree of consciousness. Normally a person is 'alert and oriented times
four'. They know what's just happened, what time it is, where they are and who
they are. I strip all that away. When she's singing in her birdcage at Die
Singvogel, Ingrid will be alert times zero. All she'll know is that she exists
in a world of intense agony and the deepest dread."
Ingrid whimpered piteously as her cage was wheeled out. The audience of
hardcore perverts applauded and followed with interest.
Chapter 3 - The Midnight Tour
Smedley Hargreaves, freshly arrived from England to attend the
Frauleinschlachtfest, liked going to Hamburg to take the Midnight Tour every now
and again. He found it invigorating and an excellent way to warm up for the
festivities.
Katja led the select group of perverts through the hotel to the special
rooms at the back. Die Singvogel laid on the Midnight Tour. The title of the
tour was a bit of a joke because it took place at 2:00 am, but it had all the
horror of midnight, all right.
It was a modern hotel. Security cards controlled the locks. Katja
flicked the master security card through the slit. The door opened silently on
well-oiled hinges.
Ashley's baby blues opened wide as the lights flicked on. She raised her
hands to shield her eyes from the harsh glare as the rapists surrounded her bed.
She clutched futilely at the bed sheet as it was ripped from her fingers. She
opened her mouth to scream and a big rubber ball was forced in. Smedley held it
in place by wrapping clear tape around the ball and the back of her head. He
wound the wide, transparent tape around her head several times, making sure that
the ball was kept in and her lips sealed tight.
Strong hands grasped her slim wrists and slender ankles. She was hoisted
into the air, away from sound sleeper Shannon and over to the adjacent double
bed.
The rapists all loved the baby doll outfit. Poor, panting Ashley looked
ravishing. As intended, the baby doll outfit did absolutely nothing to hide her
charms. Eager hands ripped the flimsy material from her body.
Now alone in the big double bed, Shannon snored serenely onwards, a
gentle lady-like snore. Her green silk panties were down around her knees and
her camisole up over her head, exposing her charms nicely, before she groggily
came to consciousness. Smedley repeated his Clockwork Orange trick with the red
rubber ball and the clear tape, sealing her luscious lips snugly around the
rubber ball.
The two fashion models squirmed and writhed sinuously as they were
spread-eagled on the bed. The first two rapists clambered aboard. The tips of
their erect members glistened with a drop of pre-cum. Shannon and Ashley grunted
in unison as the rapists buried their cocks deep.
The bunnyfucker doing Shannon finished first. She lay on the bed,
breathing hard. Smedley sat on the bed next to the panting beauty, waiting for
the right moment.
Right after she exhaled, emptying her lungs, he pinched her nostrils
shut, cutting off her air. He gripped her by the throat, digging his fingers in
painfully on either side of her windpipe and pinned her head to the pillow. He
let her savour a few panic-stricken moments without oxygen. She struggled
futilely, the bunnyfucker's semen seeping from her slit. The grinning rapists,
holding her spread-eagled on the bed, enjoyed the show, as her hips arched up
from the bed and her big bare breasts jiggled and jounced. In the fullness of
time, Smedley released her nostrils. Nostrils flaring, she snorted oxygen into
her burning lungs with raw, juddering heaves of her torso. Smedley licked her
ear and spelled it out for her.
"Shannon, darling. You've got to do a better job than just lying there
looking outraged. We're going to release your legs. I want you to wrap them
around your next customer, lock your ankles together behind his back and pump
your hips."
He pinched her nostrils together again.
"If you don't get into it, I'll have to repeat this lesson, only a lot
longer. Understand?"
Shannon frantically hummed her agreement into the gag. He released her
nostrils and the next rapist clambered aboard. Shannon groaned and wrapped her
long, lovely legs around him as he plunged his over-size love muscle into her.
She locked her ankles behind him and began pumping. Smedley moved to the next
bed to give Ashley the same motivational pep talk as her first rapist, an older
man, de-cunted.
For the next few moments, Ashley and Shannon each had her ankles locked
behind her own personal rapist, hips pumping obscenely as thick cocks slithered
in and out of their hot, swollen fuckholes. Ashley's forcefucker finished first.
Smedley sat on the bed next to her and pinned her head to the pillow. Foolishly,
Ashley took a deep breath and tried to hold it. Smedley waited patiently until
she was forced to exhale and then pinched her nostrils shut for the second
lesson. He let her struggle in eye-bulging desperation for a few moments and
then, in the fullness of time, released her nostrils.
"Really, Ashley, you're not trying hard enough! You have to scrub those
big breasts against the customer's chest. You have to moan sweetly in his ear."
He pinched her nostrils shut again.
"Ashley, I'm really disappointed in you! You're an entertainer now!
You've got to give it your very best effort! Understand?"
She hummed her agreement into the gag. He didn't release her nostrils
just yet.
"You said that before! Are you sure this time?"
She hummed again, much more urgently. He released her and the next
rapist plugged his pump into her well hole. Ashley moaned prettily, scrubbed her
big breasts eagerly and pumped hard. Shannon, next to her, had heard all this.
Frantically she started rubbing her dark red nipples against her rapist's hairy
chest and moaning prettily.
Her rapist de-cunted, trailing a sticky string of cum between the tip of
his penis and her fuckhole. Smedley pinched Shannon's nostrils shut. Her bare
bum slithered in the wet spot and her tits jiggled as she struggled futilely
against suffocation. Smedley let her bounce and jiggle for the boys and then
released her nostrils.
"Shannon! Now that you're wet, you've got to squeeze your thighs
together to tighten your cunt! We're going to release your arms. Don't try to
remove the gag. Use your hands, moving them constantly to amuse your customer."
He pinched her nostrils shut. Shannon lay very still, having learned the
futility of struggle.
"Understand, Shannon?"
She hummed eagerly into the gag. The next rapist clambered aboard and
rammed seven inches of rock hard gristle into her. He was an old hard-humping
horndog. Shannon was released completely. She focussed totally on pleasing the
horndog who rode her long and hard, sweating her beautifully.
Smedley moved over to Ashley, who looked up at him in deep dread. She
whimpered as he pinched her nostrils shut. As she squirmed and writhed, trying
to handle a world without air, bright yellow urine spurted from between her
parted thighs. Smedley released her nostrils. As she lay panting in a soggy
patch of piss, he coached his pet for her next trick.
"It's not easy pleasing your customers, Ashley! Nobody likes a lazy
bitch! The next guy wants to do it up the ass, so you'll have to flip over. Just
move down a bit so your belly covers the piss patch. Think you can manage?"
Ashley nodded, her torso heaving as she panted quickly. The grasping
hands released her and she obediently rolled over, groaning as oily fingers
slithered in and out of her rectum, lubricating her back passage. She breathed
out a small cry as the greased sausage of the backdoor boy pried open her anal
orifice. With a grunt, he forced himself all the way in.
"Just the way I like it! Nice and tight! If she were any tighter I
couldn't get in."
Her wrists were pulled out to the side. Smedley pinched her nostrils
shut as the backdoor boy grunted like a rutting pig, pumping in and out. Ashley
squealed desperately.
"Now that he's in, you have to squeeze your buns as tight as you can."
Purple faced, Ashley obliged. Her smooth young buttocks dimpled nicely
as she frantically clamped down.
"Arch your back so everything lines up nicely."
Ashley arched. Smedley released her nostrils and the backdoor boy
gripped her heaving tits, crushing them in his large strong hands. The anal
virgin sobbed with each agonising rectal thrust that burned into her painfully
stretched shit tube.
The Midnight Tour was an extremely popular event, as were Ashley and
Shannon. In order to accommodate all cummers, strong hands lifted Shannon by the
wrists and ankles, hoisted her up and pinned her flat on her back on a small
coffee table. Smedley dropped hard onto her chest. Her air whooshed out, Her
eyes bugged out. Her face went bright red. She squirmed frantically, but she was
pinned underneath him. He un-taped her lips and extracted the saliva soaked
ball. Shannon stared at him in wild-eyed desperation as he explained what was
required of her.
"To speed things up, you'll be opening your cunt to one hard humping
horndog while you open your mouth to another. With your hands, you'll be
whacking off two more. I'll be un-taping your lips. If you give any problems
with biting or not working hard enough to please, I'll wrap your face in plastic
cling-wrap."
He held up a roll of cling-wrap, tore off a length and folded it double.
He stretched it taut across her face. Distorted by the smothering plastic, her
eyelids were stretched sideways so that she looked oriental, a robber in a
stocking mask. Her squashed nose had a white tip. Her flattened lips were pale.
The stretched oval of plastic over her open mouth crackled as she sucked and
puffed, fogging it. She pressed her tongue against it, trying to break through,
but the tough plastic held firm. She tried to suck it between her teeth, but it
was stretched too tightly. Underneath Smedley, her sweat slick body bucked,
twisted and writhed. He rode her like a cowboy riding a bull, holding the
plastic firmly over her nose and mouth. He grinned down at her.
"Understand how it works?"
Poor oxygen-starved Shannon moaned frantic agreement into the plastic.
Experience is the best teacher. The smothering potential of plastic cling-wrap
was something that she now understood completely.
He peeled the plastic from her face and stood up. Shannon's legs were
folded back against her chest and splayed so that her cunt was hanging off one
end of the small coffee table and her head was hanging over the other.
Shannon lay panting on her back. A high-breasted beauty, her full
breasts jutted out magnificently from her body. The dark red of her nipples
contrasted beautifully with her pale satin skin. Her flat belly was smooth and
ended in a thick growth of richly curled, red pubic hair; it formed a carefully
trimmed, perfect V between her long white legs.
Two eager rapists knelt on either side of her. Mindful of Smedley's
instructions, Shannon wrapped her slim fingers around their tumescent members
and began pumping. The two rapists each wrapped two hands around the nearest tit
and began kneading her firm, taut breast-flesh enthusiastically. They kissed and
sucked her nipples gently to tease them erect and then began nipping with their
teeth.
Pumping with both hands, Shannon's head bobbed up to look as the
muscular porter positioned himself on his knees at her splayed open crotch,
dangling tantalizingly over the end of the coffee table. Her heart plummeted as
she saw the huge sausage that hung, thick and heavy, between his legs. With her
very limited experience of men, she had never imagined that a man could have
something that big growing there.
The muscular porter grasped his thick cockshaft, lifted it to a
horizontal position and began stroking it. It swelled even thicker, stiffening
quickly. She could see the helmet head of his knob clearly outlined under his
foreskin.
The porter expertly fisted his quickly erect shaft. He drew the foreskin
back, exposing the fat purple glans. A clear dewdrop of pre-cum quivered at the
tip. He rested the glistening tip against her small pink slit and began to push.
He shoved open her vaginal lips and deftly guided his naked purple knob into
Shannon's hot, moist passage.
An unseen hand yanked down on her hair. Her head tilted back, exposing
her pale white throat. Shannon opened her mouth to cry out and the hotel desk
clerk jammed in his pale white tube of tumescent male flesh. Deeply afraid of
having her head stuffed into a plastic bag, she began to taste the slimy twerp's
salty shaft. He plunged in deeply. Fearful that she would choke, Shannon took a
deep breath, inhaling the stale, sweaty smell of his pubic hairs.
The four men worked away at the beautiful body of Shannon, fucking her
over thoroughly. The desk clerk jabbed furiously into her licking, sucking
mouth. The two in the middle kissed, sucked and nipped her breasts, squeezing
and massaging them while, under the table, she masturbated them, her fists
wrapped around their erect sausages, pumping up and down. Between her legs, the
over-endowed porter plunged in and out of her tight squirming cunt.
Everything gradually speeded up, as lust drove them ever faster towards
climax. The porter's plunging became frenzied. His and Shannon's genitals joined
hotly, his thick piston stretching her tight fuck cylinder wide, as his rock
hard prick muscled into her soft pink cunt with lightning quick strokes, moving
in and out like a jackhammer on steroids. Between her lips, the hotel clerk was
ramming his member in deep, opening her throat. Poor gasping Shannon felt like
the two dicks were meeting in the middle.
They exploded almost simultaneously. The desk clerk pressed his driving
loins up tight against Shannon's gasping face and ground his hips from side to
side. After a long drawn-out groan of animal satisfaction, he relaxed.
Conversely, Shannon tensed, gulping frantically to avoid choking on his copious
cum. The muscular porter grabbed her legs with both hands, pulling her towards
him. He threw his head back and rammed crazily into her cunt. With a wild
jerking spasm of his hips, he jammed in all the way, in a final cataclysmic
plunge. His thigh muscles corded and his buttocks clenched. His face contorted
in ecstasy as he bathed her womb in sperm.
Panting hard, Shannon was now acting as her own fluffer, preparing the
next rapists for a quick, stiff assault on her orifices. The two men she had
been masturbating inexpertly, kneeling by her breasts were rock hard and almost
ready to explode. They quickly moved to her mouth and cunt, jabbing their
members in for a frenzied bunnyfuck. While they were pumping hard and quickly
unloading, her fingers were hardening two more dicks under the table, while her
breasts were being kneaded like bread dough and her nipples chewed like toffee
by two new customers.
Ashley, flat-backing on another coffee table, was also the centre of a
rutting frenzy: sucking, swallowing, pumping with cum-sticky fingers, her legs
were propped high to that her asshole was available for a thorough reaming. Also
a beneficiary of the cling wrap experience, she was doing her very best to
satisfy her hot, horny captors.
Smedley inhaled the cat-piss aroma of the gangbang, watching with
satisfaction. The two fashion models, barely visible as flashes of writhing
flesh under the sea of rapists, were proving to be very popular hostesses
indeed.
Chapter 4 - Gorilla Pimp Porridge
Out at sea, the Pussy Maru was nearing the fast container port of Hamburg
with its luscious cargo of groaning misery.
The black pimp faced the cameras. He gave a gold-toothed grin that went
well with the numerous gold chains around his neck.
It was important to keep the bitches from being bored with the long ocean
voyage and keep them earning money starring in extreme hard-core porn. The
container ship Pussy Maru was a full production facility. The containers were
designed like Chinese puzzle boxes. Superficially, they looked like ordinary
metal containers. Press the well-hidden buttons in the correct sequence and they
unfolded hydraulically to reveal, not only a cargo of sex slaves to be
distributed world wide, but also a full-feature pornographic production
facility. Wardrobe, props, cameras, editing facilities, Internet connections,
handcuffs, ropes, racks, whips, branding irons, needles, clamps and crushers,
surgical implements - the Pussy Maru had it all, a veritable pornucopia of
perverse delights.
Krusher was one of those charming individuals whose perverse imagination
kept the bitches hot and sweaty in front of the cameras. His gold-toothed grin
grew wider as the cameras zoomed in close for a headshot. The deep bass voice
that made the bowels of fear-trained whores liquefy sounded like it came from
the pits of hell.
"Welcome to my nightmare! People are always walking up to me and saying
'Krusher, your bitches are the best! What do you feed them ho's to keep 'em
looking so foxy, in addition to your own wonderfully nutritious sperm?' Well,
I'm going to show you the secret recipe that one of my fear trained ho's will be
choking down in tonight's vomit-fest. I call it 'Gorilla Pimp Porridge.'"
He poured some Quaker's Oats into a bowl and mixed it with water.
"Nothin' different so far!"
He winked slyly.
"Now I add the six secret ingredients the bitch knows squat about. Lovely
Vivian will be contributing five of the six secret ingredients. I'll be
contributing the last one myself, based on a fond memory from my childhood,
'cause I'm a real romantic kind of guy."
Krusher winked engagingly at the camera. The stunning blond next to him
was dressed in black stockings, black high heels, black elbow length gloves and
a top hat. Her bare boobs and tight buns were a delight to behold. Vivian
plastered on her big, phoney, beauty queen smile for the cameras.
"Vivian's going to do something that she's very familiar with - sharing
bodily fluids with total strangers!"
He gave Vivian a large glass.
"Let's see how much piss you can fill the glass with while everyone has a
good look at you doing it."
Smiling brilliantly, Vivian gladly accepted the humiliation, hugely
relieved not to be screaming for the cameras. She nestled the glass between her
legs close to her crotch to drain her main vein without her normal messy
splatter. Since Krusher had denied her toilet privileges prior to her
appearance, she urinated strongly. The camera zoomed in for a close-up of the
golden shower from her golden snatch. She had been working very hard indeed
since her Yakuza master had given her to Krusher, thinking Vivian's influence on
him was perceived as being too great. Showing any vulnerability in front of his
voracious colleagues, human sharks that would eat a weaker predator in a
heartbeat, would be a deadly mistake.
Ghetto raised in the good ole USA and, as a result, having a HUGE chip on
his shoulder about whitey, Krusher not only liked making his white bitches
scream, he insisted on it. Once in Krusher's brutal grasp, lovely Vivian had
received his standard white-bitch welcome: stripped, beaten and gang-raped, all
in front of the cameras. She had been working her amoral way up the ladder,
betraying the other bitches to get a better deal from Krusher. She told him
about their deepest fears, their plotting, their friendships and their
rivalries. Krusher found it congenial to have a foxy, stool-pigeon mole that
fucked like a mink. In return, he was happy to make the white bitch crawl
instead of making her scream.
When golden girl Vivian had squirted out her last golden drop, she gave
the full glass back to Krusher. He held the glass of warm, rank liquid under her
nose. With a visible effort, she kept the ingratiating grin plastered on her
pretty face.
"Spit into the glass to contribute secret ingredient number two, Vivian.
Let's see a nice big goober, babe."
Vivian cheeks pulled in as she sucked hard and then drooled out a long
glutinous slobber of saliva into the glass. Krusher poured the contents of the
glass into a blender.
"Disgusting! While you're doing degrading things, pick your nose while
everybody watches, slut."
A camera zoomed in close for a headshot. With the camera recording every
move and bright lights glaring in her beautifully made up face, Vivian stuck a
carefully lacquered fingernail up her nostril. She probed thoughtfully and
pulled it out. A thick green nose goblin glistened liquescently on her long
fingernail. Looking a bit shame-faced, she scraped it into the blender.
"Have you no pride, woman?"
"Uh, I guess not!"
Krusher bounced one of her big boobs in his palm, giving it a few
friendly squeezes, like a customer testing the softness of a toilet roll. She
smiled radiantly as he reached between her parted thighs and groped her
intimately, tugging at her cuntlips and crudely slipping a finger up her
fuckhole. The cameras zoomed in for close-ups of his coal black fingers lewdly
fondling her pretty pink privates, parting and probing obscenely.
When lovely Vivian was panting prettily and the shit-eating grin on her
flushed face looked very forced indeed, Krusher held out a small bowl.
"I want you to turn around like a good scum-sucking whore and squeeze one
out while our viewers watch."
Vivian obligingly positioned her golden buns over the bowl and neatly
forced out a turd that exactly fit in the bowl. Krusher gave her a playful slap
on the rump. Vivian squealed, his red handprint clearly visible on her
lily-white ass, prancing and jiggling enchantingly.
Krusher stared at her expectantly. Vivian was confused and a bit
terrified, not knowing what he wanted. She stared at him fearfully, a scared
rabbit trapped in the headlights. Her voice had a mild tremor in it.
"What?"
Krusher let her sweat it for a few beats.
"Wipe your bum, bitch."
Vivian flushed beet-red in embarrassment as a helpful hand from
off-camera handed her a roll of toilet paper. The surrounding cameramen all got
nice crotch shots of Vivian wiping the feculence from her ass, taken from a wide
variety of angles. Krusher shook his head.
"At least she knows to wipe away from her snatch!"
He dumped the turd into the blender. Scarlet faced, Vivian stuffed in the
soiled toilet paper. Krusher glared at shaking, quaking Vivian.
"You have a present for me?"
She gingerly held out a used tampon.
"Vivian saved this from the heaviest part of her last period."
He stared at her unbelievingly.
"Don't give it to me, you stupid shit-head whore!"
Vivian looked at him in confusion, the proffered tampon trembling in her
slim fingers. Krusher explained it to her, speaking slowly and carefully so that
the dumb cunt could understand.
"Put it in the blender, bitch."
She tossed the bloody tampon in.
"The last item is from my fond memories of the ghetto - live cockroaches!
It's important for a bitch to get her protein! Don't worry, insect lovers! These
poor, doomed, ghetto bred cockroaches won't feel a thing after the blender's
turned on - talk of forced integration!"
He poured a small jar of scampering cockroaches in, snapped on the lid
and powered on the blender. He pureed the mixture into a fine brown mush, poured
it into the bowl with the porridge and microwaved the result. He stirred the
fetid brown concoction and handed the steaming bowl to Vivian, who was standing
once more at his side, shamelessly working her thighs, flexing her naked
buttocks and bouncing her bare boobs for the cameras, eager to cement her recent
promotion from screaming slut to humiliated hussy. He scrubbed the side of his
hand up and down in the crack of Vivian's ass as he smiled radiantly at the
camera, gold tooth gleaming.
"I know our eager fans are wondering what sort of utterly depraved,
brain-dead fuckslut would choke down this vile mixture and then throw up and
suck it down again and again until it stays down."
His golden smile broadened.
"Have I got a pussy for you! Let's go meet the Barf Babe."
Chapter 5 - Barf Babe
The cameras followed Vivian's tight buns onto the next set as she
followed Krusher carrying the steaming bowl, catching every dimple and twitch of
her callipygian buttocks and every flash of her gash. She placed the reeking
gorilla pimp porridge on a trolley between a large basin of dark yellow urine
and a glass jar with a huge cockroach inside it.
Standing between the trolley and a sawhorse, Darla tore her eyes away
from the cockroach and watched Krusher approach nervously, expensively clad in
the ball gown she had been wearing when kidnapped, exquisitely made up for the
cameras. She wrinkled her patrician nose as she caught a whiff of the reeking
pimp porridge. A statuesque, full breasted, black-haired beauty with high
cheekbones, her hair was cut in a short bob. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she
glanced apprehensively at the cameras. A proud woman, pampered from birth, very
aware of her image, she loathed the very idea of public humiliation.
On the other hand, Krusher loved putting the haughty, snotty society babe
through her paces while the cameras captured everything. Darla was a Boston High
Society woman born and bred, the sort that marries U.S. Presidents and Greek
shipping tycoons, the sort of man who would marry her for show, her sexual
duties restricted to those strictly necessary for breeding purposes. Darla was
only for those occasions when respectability, decorum and family values were the
order of the day.
Her husband didn't mind. He was boffing real racehorses all the time.
When she had complained about this as being undignified and unworthy of someone
in his position, he had laughed in her face. When she had threatened divorce and
to scoop part of his fortune in the process, he had unhesitatingly put out a
contract on her. The hired professionals had decided to maximize their profits
by faking her death and selling her to Krusher.
If anyone asked about her resemblance to her well-publicized self, always
associated with some rich person's charity event, Krusher could explain that it
was a look-alike. He had complete credibility. After all, no decent, respectable
society matron would ever perform such totally disgusting, utterly depraved acts
with the cameras rolling, would they?
Becoming a nigger pimp's bitch had been a HUGE eye-opener for the
highbred beauty. She straightened stiffly as Krusher reached down and gave her
bum an intimate squeeze.
After falling into his loving care, Krusher had, lingeringly, with
painstaking thoroughness, experimented to discover her deepest fears, a strong
believer in the performing value of a fear-trained whore. It turned out that
having her bare buttocks prised apart, her exposed anus opened and live
cockroaches inserted into her rectum had been the definitive mind-melting
experience. Darla was no problem after that. Although a rather wooden performer,
Krusher's lightest wish was now her command.
Krusher cuddled up close behind her, reaching around to give her big
breasts a friendly fondle through the thin fabric of her strapless, floor-length
ball gown, enjoying the way she quivered tremulously at his touch. Darla could
feel the heat of his erect penis nestling in the crack of her ass through the
thin, clinging fabric of her ballroom dress. He crudely stuck his tongue in her
coral pink ear and whispered breathily for the cameras.
"Are you ready for some hard-fucking action, my dirty little gutterslut
cunt?"
Looking in deep embarrassment at the cameras, Darla blushed an even
deeper shade of red. Her voice was a whisper.
"Yes, sir!"
Krusher stepped back. Darla instantly straightened up and patted her hair
primly, completely resuming her normal demeanour of haughty rich bitch with a
pickle up her ass. Krusher winked at the camera.
"Anyone looking at you would think that you were a pillar of
respectability."
Darla politely agreed with him.
"Yes, sir, they would."
He unzipped the back of her dress. She was too stiff in public to do a
convincing strip tease, so he stripped her instead.
"Let's show everyone the whore beneath."
Her expensive gown folded to the floor. This left her exhibiting herself
for the cameras wearing only a black garter belt, black stockings with a seam
down the back and high heeled, black, strap-on fuck-me pumps.
Although a very recent acquisition, Darla knew better than to cover up.
As taught, she put her hands behind her head, arched her back and spread her
legs. The sea of cameras surrounding her recorded her lush beauty, the cameramen
weaving smoothly to avoid collisions. Her high, half-melon breasts with their
small, dark-red nipples were examined in close-up. Her callipygous buttocks and
pouting cuntlips between her parted thighs were photographed in detail. Another
camera examined her long, sexy legs, scanning slowly up from the fuck me pumps,
along the seamed stockings, capturing her athletic calves and thighs, up to the
neatly black pubic hair nestling on either side of her pouty cuntlips.
She blushed violently as Krusher groped her. She froze as he squeezed her
tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers. He pawed crudely between her
legs, tugging at her cuntlips, spreading them to expose the pink and teasing her
clit out of hiding. She gasped and went up on tiptoe as he pushed a finger
inside her vaginal passage. He pumped it in and out lewdly.
He spread her beautifully rounded butt cheeks to expose her wrinkled
brown ring. She started as he spat on her sensitive anus for lubrication and
wormed a finger into her back passage.
Vivian smirked as she watched Darla being exposed and groped for the
cameras, feeling very superior.
"What you smiling at, bitch?"
Vivian instantly wiped the smile from her face. It was replaced by the
haunted, badly frightened look of a whore that's ticked off her pimp. Krusher
gave her his million-watt glare.
"Do you think this is funny, cunt?"
Vivian wilted. Even her firm, full breasts sagged a bit.
"Uh, no, sir."
"Do you think that you don't have to work - just stand there with a big
goofy grin?"
"No, sir. I'm very, very sorry, sir."
"I think you need to take up the cockroach challenge."
Vivian felt like her heart had been drop kicked. Her voice squeaked.
"The cockroach challenge?"
He picked up a glass jar with a huge Madagascar cockroach inside, the
largest cockroach on earth. Standing next to the sawhorse, Darla stared at it in
horror, memories of her recent rectal roach experience flooding back.
"I was saving this for darling Darla if she fucked up."
He could see Darla resolving to explore the deepest pits of depravity
before she became a roach motel again. Delighted, he put his arm around Vivian's
creamy shoulders, enjoying the feel of her trembling flesh. Now that the voyage
was almost over, Vivian had become extremely expendable.
"I want you to open your mouth, Vivian."
Her heart in her heels, Vivian parted her ruby lips. Krusher unscrewed
the top of the jar.
"Reach in, pick up the cockroach, put it in your mouth and shut your
mouth. Don't swallow. The challenge is to let it scamper around inside until I
say that you can take it out and put it back in the jar."
Vivian reached in and picked up the large squirming insect with visible
reluctance. With a quick, terrified glance at Krusher, she popped it in her
mouth and shut her lips. Pinch faced and pop-eyed, Vivian's eyes watered as she
worked hard to avoid gagging. Her nude torso heaved, covered in a light
glistening dew of sweat. Vivian was on the verge of hyperventilating as she felt
the large insect's legs scratch at her tongue and its antennae poke her cheeks.
Krusher turned back to Darla.
"There! That should keep her busy."
He raised his eyes piously heavenward.
"The Lord hates a lazy whore."
He patted the wooden sawhorse.
"You're not happy unless you're doing something totally disgusting!
Right, you filthy animal?"
Darla swallowed hard and nodded, wondering what was going to be demanded
of her and whether she could handle it.
"Yes, sir."
"Lay face down on the sawhorse with your tits hanging down either side. I
want your crotch at one end with your legs spread along the sawhorse legs."
She straddled one end of the sawhorse. He cuffed her ankles to the legs
of the sawhorse, her crotch resting at the apex of the A. She bent forward and
rested her chest on the top of the sawhorse, her breasts hanging on either side,
her head off the end. He cuffed her wrists to the bottom of the front legs.
Vivian was making panic-stricken, whimpering noises. As the over-size
cockroach started exploring the entrance to her throat, she began to gag and
choke, her eyes watering.
"OK, Vivian, open your mouth and put Mr. Cucaracha back in the jar."
She parted her lips. The huge insect instantly escaped and began crawling
over her face. Vivian shrieked and batted it away. It landed on top of her right
tit. She screamed and began dancing around hysterically, completely freaked,
afraid to touch it again as the cockroach hung onto her trembling tit-meat with
its claws. Laughing, Krusher flicked the cockroach's rump with his fingers and
it fell into the jar. He screwed on the top, shaking his head.
"You white bitches could never handle the ghetto."
He placed the cockroach's jar on a trolley next to a washbasin filled
with reeking dark yellow piss. He rolled the trolley until the washbasin was
right under Darla's nose. Darla arched up, raising her head as high as she
could, wrinkling her patrician nose and looking ill. Vivian was ashen-faced and
shaking badly. Krusher felt a warm inner glow. It was moments like this that
made it all worthwhile.
He stared at Darla. She stared back, a scared rabbit trapped in the
headlights.
"You disgusting pig slut whore! I want you to lower your pretty face into
the piss while Vivian works it into your hair with her bare hands. The piss was
donated by babes on the rag so there's a bit of menstrual blood mixed in."
There was no question of disobedience. Darla took a deep breath, screwed
her eyes tightly shut and pinched her lips together. With a visible shudder, she
slowly pressed her face into the piss and held it stiffly in place. Krusher
pressed down firmly on the back of her head. Her naked body quivered as the dark
yellow piss seeped into her ear holes. He beckoned to Vivian, who quickly
jiggled over to the basin and began to massage pee into Darla's hair. Krusher
watched with interest.
"I guess those dark, worm-like strands are the menstrual blood."
Grim-faced, Vivian resolutely continued to work the urine into Darla's
short black hair with her long manicured fingers.
"You better let the gutter slut up for a quick breath."
Darla raised her head and gasped, sucking in some of the urine as it
streamed from her face. She coughed and spat to clear her mouth.
"OK, back into the piss, fuckface."
A look of utter despair crossed Darla's face just before she pressed it
once more into the malodorous basin. Vivian worked it into every strand of her
hair.
"OK. Raise that pissy cuntface up, you disgusting chunk of pig vomit."
Darla raised her dripping face.
"Ever had a sponge bath, scum slut?"
Darla shook her head.
"No."
He slapped her rump.
"It's your lucky day, you stinking whore."
He tossed Vivian a sponge.
"Cover her in piss, Vivian, starting at the top while I keep her busy
down below."
He pulled his rigid blacksnake out of his pants and pushed it into
Darla's soft pink hairy hole. His hips pumped while Vivian soaked Darla's
fingers and arms in piss. The sawhorse creaked as he humped her, his long thick
dick slithering in and out of Darla's tight fuckhole. Her dangling breasts
juddered with each thrust, while Darla stared resolutely off into space. He came
while Vivian soaked the sponge in the fetid pool of piss and swabbed Darla's
breasts.
Darla shuddered as he decunted and Vivian's prying fingers opened her
dripping fuckhole and squirted in some piss from the sponge.
"That's enough. Lick Vivian's fingers clean, douche bag."
Utter revulsion was etched on Darla's face as she bathed Vivian's fingers
with her warm wet tongue. She swallowed down burning, acrid stomach acids as
they powered up her throat in a gag reflex as Vivian lewdly pumped her fingers
in and out of Darla's mouth.
Krusher was pleased with this charming tableau but it was time to move
on. He clapped his hands.
"Ok, ladies. Enough foreplay! It's time to get serious!"
He stepped over to a heavy wooden chair covered with strong leather
straps. The legs of the chair disappeared into a heavy slab of concrete. It was
going nowhere; no matter how hard it's occupant struggled.
"Vivian, since you like watching a sleazy slut crawl, you get a ringside
seat."
A thick, knobbed dildo projected up from the seat of the chair. Vivian
stared at it. Krusher slapped her on the back. Her big breasts jiggled liquidly.
"You might want to grease that up before you sit down on it and bury it
deep inside your hot little hole."
He handed her a jar of Vaseline. Silently, she knelt and slathered it
thickly on the dildo. Her fingers dipped between her legs and worked Vaseline
into her fuckhole. Staring defiantly, she stared straight at Krusher while she
hoisted herself up on the arms of the chair like a gymnast on the parallel bars.
Positioning herself carefully, she lowered herself slowly onto the invasive
knobbed shaft. It scraped at her sensitive vaginal walls, but she sank
resolutely down onto it until her aching cuntlips kissed the seat of the chair.
Krusher gave her a pimp pep talk as he strapped her into the chair. He
strapped her elbows to the back of the chair, her wrists to the arms and her
ankles to the legs.
"I like to challenge my whores, to keep them working hard. The other cunt
has been working hard and she'll be working much harder. You have to work hard
too."
He slipped the hangman's noose around her neck. Her eyes followed the
rope upwards to the pulley in the ceiling and down to the sandbags resting on
the shelf. Krusher held up a large rubber ball with a 10-pound weight dangling
from it.
"I put this in your mouth. The dangling weight wants to pull the ball out
of your mouth. You have to hold the ball in because the weight is also attached
to a cord fastened to the lynchpin that holds up that shelf holding the sandbags
attached to your noose."
He liked making things clear to even the dumbest cunt. If he didn't,
things might end very quickly.
"If you drop the ball, the weight falls, the lynchpin is pulled out, the
shelf collapses, the sandbags fall and you have one hundred pounds dragging up
on your throat for a long, slow strangle. Fastened to this chair that's embedded
in a cement slab, you're going nowhere. If you drop the ball, you'll be turning
purple for the cameras until I'm finished with the filthy animal here and,
believe me, I've got a lot in store for that reeking cunt."
Krusher spat a few thick, viscous phlegm wads onto the ball to make it
nice and slippery.
"Open."
Miserably, Vivian had to open very wide to accommodate the large ball. He
pushed the saliva slick globe in. Once Vivian had got a good taste of his spit,
he let the weight drop, enjoying the way Vivian's jaw muscles jumped as she
frantically bit down to hold it in. The ten-pound weight dangled in the valley
between her breasts pulling the cord attached to the lynchpin taut. If she bent
forward she'd pull the lynchpin out.
To make sure that lovely Vivian was fully savouring the experience, he
unrolled a cloth wrap-up toolkit and removed three small needle-nose vice-grip
pliers. He snapped two of them onto her nipples and played a quick game of
purple nurple, pulling upwards hard. Vivian screamed into the weighted ball gag
and rode up an inch on the thick dildo. He released them and she sank down
again. He had her screaming up and down on the raspy dildo, working hard to keep
the gag in her mouth. When he felt sure that her tits ached and her cunt was
burning between her legs, he snapped the third pair of needle-nose vice grips
onto her clit. He twisted and jerked hard; making her scream until the snot was
drooling from her nostrils and mixing with the saliva on the ball gag, making it
even more slippery. He could see her aching jaw muscles standing out on either
side of her face as golden girl Vivian grimly kept her grip on the ball gag. He
gave her tits an encouraging squeeze, leaving the three vice grips in place, and
turned to Darla.
"Feeling neglected?"
"No."
As far as Darla was concerned, guys like him could ignore her forever.
He moved the basin of piss aside, positioning the reeking feculent bowl
of steaming gorilla pimp porridge under her flaring nostrils. Half of taste is
smell, so he made sure that Darla got a good whiff of the vile stench. She
pulled her face away from the bowl as far as she could, arching upwards against
her bonds.
He stirred the malodorous mixture with a big spoon.
"Yum! Yum!"
Darla looked nauseous, her pretty face a study in complete, near-vomitous
disgust. He held a spoonful of the revolting muck to her tightly closed lips.
"Open your mouth or I'll open up your asshole and slip Mr. Cucaracha deep
inside."
Darla stared at the huge roach. It stared back, cleaning its antennae and
mandibles with it hairy forelegs. She shuddered, closed her eyes and parted her
lips. He poured the liquefied excrescence onto her tongue, making sure that she
got a really good taste.
Darla's eyes watered as she gagged and choked, yorking up her last meal
into the bowl of pimp porridge. Krusher stirred it in as he gave her a pimp pep
talk.
"We're not done until the bowl is empty. If you can't keep it down, Mr.
Cucaracha gets to party in the roach rectum."
Darla resolutely opened her mouth and he poured another spoonful down her
throat. She kept her lips compressed tightly together in a desperate bid to keep
it down. Her rebelling, sensitive stomach hurled the mess up her throat and
through her burning sinuses to spray painfully out her nostrils. Krusher was
helpful.
"Maybe if I pour it down behind your tongue, it won't taste as bad."
He spooned it down the back of her throat. Grimacing in total revulsion,
Darla kept her lips resolutely shut. Her throat muscles corded as she swallowed
hard repeatedly to keep it down every time it burned up her throat like molten
lava erupting from a volcano.
"Very good! Are you ready for the second spoonful?"
Her contorted face a picture of utter misery, Darla nodded. Spoonful by
spoonful he shovelled it in. Eyes watering, nostrils dripping tendrils of warm
gooey snot, Darla choked it down. Her Adams apple bobbed up and down like a yoyo
as her throat worked convulsively.
At last, ashen-faced and quaking, she was done, her queasy belly full.
Krusher patted her rump approvingly.
"Good girl! A sick fuck like you should be able to handle this next
delightful exercise in obscenity with no trouble!"
Darla's eyes were numb with despair as he began oiling up her breasts,
pulling and squeezing them like a dairy farmer milking a cow. A device with two
clear tubes was rolled out and placed underneath Darla, the mouth of each tube
being positioned so that it was just touching a nipple. This was one of Dr.
Mandro's charming devices. Krusher watched Darla's face carefully as he flicked
the switch.
He was not disappointed.
Darla's eyes widened unbelievingly. She shrieked as the powerful suction
slurped her breasts into the narrow tubes. She quivered in shock as the mouths
of the tubes rested against her torso, her poor crushed breasts having been
sucked completely into the tubes. She screamed again as the suction reversed.
The tubes filled with oil and spat her breasts back out. They quivered, dangling
down, red and glistening. Krusher was enthusiastic.
"That looked like fun! Let's do it again!"
He flicked the switch. Darla screamed higher than before as the
incredibly powerful suction slurped her bruised breasts into the tight tubes.
The motor to the suction pump revved high like the clogged up vacuum that it
was. The suction reversed, oil flooded the tubes to provide desperately need
lubrication. Her breasts popped out of the tubes. As Darla gibbered in horror,
Krusher slapped her rump hard. Her buttocks quivered like jello.
"A hard core whore like you knows that it's going to be a lot more
painful if we give it a few moments for the bruising to really set in and to let
those puppies swell up even larger. While we're waiting, let's get those hot
horny holes of yours working hard."
He positioned a device that looked like a giant motorized chrome
corkscrew on a trolley at the entrance to her cunt. He locked the wheels in
place.
"This is what every fuck freak needs - the Scream Reamer. It burrows into
a fuckhole like a rabid weasel. It's got a switch at the tip of the giant
corkscrew dildo. It opens a cunt wide and penetrates deep. When it hits the
cervix, having wormed into the slut's cockpit as far as it can go, it trips the
switch and reverses back out. It's got a sensor on the edge an inch from the
tip. When that pops free of the cunt, it reverses again and burrows back in. In
and out, in and out it goes. The speed is adjustable. We'll start off slow and
then see how far we can crank this baby up. It's self-lubricating, of course. No
matter how hard a slut comes, she could never generate enough juice to pave the
way for this baby."
Darla opened her mouth to protest just as Krusher started the Scream
Reamer. Her protest turned into a horrified shriek as the thick corkscrew
burrowed in, stretching her impossibly wide. She let out a high squeal as it
punched hard into her cervix and reversed out. As advertised, within an inch of
exiting, it reversed again and powered back in, travelling the full length of
her love canal. It punched her cervix hard and reversed.
As the powerful corkscrew wormed in and out, it felt like her cunt was
catching fire. Krusher watched Darla shriek and squeal through a few cycles.
"No woman can keep silent during that kind of action! There is, of
course, a companion to the Scream Reamer. It's called the Anal Intruder."
He wheeled out a slimmer, but longer, motorized chrome corkscrew. He
turned off the Scream Reamer as he carefully positioned the Anal Intruder so
that the tip of the corkscrew was pressing urgently against Darla's back door.
"This has a similar mechanism to the Scream Reamer. It has the sensor at
the tip, so when it hits the first big bend in her intestine, it reverses. An
inch from the end is a sensor on the edge of the corkscrew. When that sucker
pops free the Anal Intruder worms back in, screwing itself in deep where the sun
don't shine."
He turned it on. Darla's eyeballs bulged as it stretched her rectum wide
and wormed deep into her shithole. She gasped as it punched into her gut and
reversed out. He watched her gasp and sweat her way through a few cycles, then
turned it off.
"The best part is when the two work in unison. There's no way a woman
could handle both burrowing in at once. Two reamers that huge would rip her guts
to shreds. We hook them up so that they take turns, opening first one hole wide
and deep, and then doing the other."
He hooked them together and flipped them on. Darla shrieked high and
hard, the spittle flying from her foam-flecked lips, a long ululating wail
punctuated by gasps and squeals as the corkscrews relentlessly took turns
stretching her holes wide and slamming her deep inside before reversing out.
Next to her, cameras captured Vivian's look of deep dismay as the slimy
ball gag popped from her aching jaws. The weight plunged into the valley between
her breasts, pulling out the slim, greased lynchpin. The shelving collapsed and
the heavy sandbags slid downwards. The noose jerked up on Vivian's throat,
cinching tight around it.
Vivian's gasping face was pulled upwards. She rode two inches up on the
dildo until being strapped to the chair stopped her. Her eyes protruded as she
gagged and coughed. Her face slowly turned purple and her tongue stuck out
between her blue, gasping lips.
Krusher cranked up the speed on the corkscrews. Darla's shrill wail rose
impossibly high. He playfully gave Darla, shrieking insanely, a few quick tit
slurps until she passed out. He grinned as he released Vivian from the noose.
"The fun only stops when a dumb cunt passes out from too much excitement.
Right, fuckface?"
Dazed and in shock, Vivian stared at him stupidly. He pimp slapped Vivian
vigorously backhand and forehand. Her golden hair flew as her head snapped back
and forth with the blows.
"I SAID: RIGHT, FUCKFACE?"
Vivian gathered together enough wits to nod hurriedly. She croaked out
her reply.
"You're absolutely right, sir!"
Chapter 6 - Bullwhip
Krusher grinned for the camera. His gold tooth gleamed.
"Welcome to the MeatMaster Web Event! Patrons of MeatMaster.com love to
see a bitch beaten and our bitches love to be beat! We feature nothing but the
finest painsluts. No matter how much they may beg, whimper and scream, remember
one thing: these babes love a good beating! Always bear in mind that they're
women: sneaky hypocrites by nature! No matter how much they may whine and
blubber, turning on the faucets, it's all just a trick. Deep down, these
masochistic painsluts have no respect for a Painmaster that relents. These
bitches want to be hurt and hurt bad!"
Now that he had made all the web surfing cyber-weenies feel comfortable
about watching a begging, sobbing woman being viciously brutalized, Krusher
moved cheerfully on to the main attraction.
"Today, we're featuring the bullwhip. We'll be interviewing the painslut
who's going to be stripped naked, spread-eagled and whipped. We'll watch her get
prepped for the whipping and I have something really special planned for that, a
big surprise for the painslut in question. Finally, we'll listen to her scream
as the bullwhip slices into her naked, quivering flesh."
He gestured at the nude black beauty standing next to him, shaved from
head to toe until she was as smooth as a cue ball, ball gagged with a pool ball
between her lips (a black eight ball), her wrists tied behind her.
"Allow me to introduce Aleesha, a beautiful busty babe who has abandoned
the fashion runways to sweat for your pleasure. A babe who's really behind the
eight ball!"
Keen as he was on making a white, golden girl scream, Krusher was always
happy to take some time out of his busy day to carve the snot out of a stuck-up
black bitch.
"Aleesha's a recent addition to my stable of cuties. I find that it takes
a lot of the fuck-you out of a bitch when she watches one of these screamfests.
Aleesha's here to learn what happens to a mouthy cunt."
Aleesha shifted uneasily in front of the cameras, thinking back to the
fuck-up that had brought her here. A trusted friend had phoned, breathless with
excitement, telling her that there was a trendy, big-paying fashion shoot aboard
the Pussy Maru, organised at the last minute. She had hurried down to the docks
without telling anyone, a HUGE mistake. The 'trusted friend' had turned out to
be a computer-synthesized voice.
After stepping aboard the Pussy Maru, she had been promptly added to
their collection of prime fuckmeat. With the freshly captured fashion model
pinned on the floor of her cell, Krusher had shorn Aleesha like a sheep,
removing the proud beauty's finely braided cornrows with an electric razor.
While she was still quaking in shock from this degradation, she had been
stripped naked and pinned spread-eagled on the floor. Krusher had gone to work
on her stubble with a razor, denuding her of all bodily hair, shaving off her
eyebrows and her bikini waxed strip of pubic hair. Her long eyelashes had been
plucked. She was lathered up and shaved until she was smooth all over. When she
had seen herself in a mirror, Aleesha had been horrified, scarcely recognizing
the bald alien being who stared back at her.
It turned out that being bald as a coot was the good news. After that,
she had spent some quality time with Han and his team of oriental rapists being
none-too-gently 'encouraged' to perform every sex act imaginable and
unimaginable by a large group of force-fuckers with groping hands and invasive,
dripping dicks. She was enthusiastically reamed and creamed for hours and hours.
Every orifice was pumped to overflowing with spermatic letch-water. With the
strangling rope around her neck, she was forced to gobble dripping dick after
dripping dick, her belly filled almost to the bursting point with jism. Naked on
her hands and knees, every square inch of her ebony skin was slimed with
peckersnot, dripping long sticky seminal filaments onto the floor. It had been
deeply traumatic for a proud fashion princess.
Seeing that Aleesha had zoned out on him, a common occurrence with fresh
rape meat, Krusher slapped her hard in the face, forehand and backhand.
Pimp-slapped back to the present, Aleesha glanced up at him, her bowels a hot
liquid pit of churning fear. He gestured at the clamps on the floor.
"On your knees, bitch."
Her slim calves and dainty ankles were clamped to the floor, spread
nicely to expose her smooth-shaven genitals.
Krusher squatted down next to Aleesha. His fingers parted her cuntlips
and probed deeply. Her big brown eyes stared up at him, Bambi looking into the
hunter's gun barrel. He pointed at the camera focussed on her face and then
pointed at pretty Pam fidgeting nervously in her skintight red dress.
"From now on, I want you to look at Pam and watch what happens to her. If
you even blink, you'll be screaming right next to her. The camera is watching
you and it never blinks. Make sure that you don't either."
He grunted in satisfaction as Aleesha began staring wide-eyed at Pam.
Pamela Pureheart was convinced that her life had turned into pure shit.
Until the whoremaster had kidnapped her in Hong Kong, the toughest thing she had
to endure were stupid jokes on her last name. She had been glad to move in
public school to get away from being called Pammie Surefart. After that, her
life had been pure cream. Daddy had hit it rich and Mommy had hit it richer when
she divorced him. When Pam's incredible blond beauty had blossomed in high
school, the teenage horndogs were too busy trying to get inside her panties to
make jokes. With her divorced Mommy and Daddy competing to buy her affection and
every male in sight worshipping her like she were a goddess of fertility, pretty
Pammie had it made.
Her tits almost popped out of her dress when Pam took a deep breath to
steady herself as Krusher and the camera crew came to interview her. The tight
red dress, black spike heels and elaborate tear-proof make-up made the American
beauty with the shimmering blond hair into a pure cream dream. The glistening
sheen of oily fear-sweat made her look like a whore Mazola'd up for action.
Krusher gave her his gold-toothed grin and eyed the blond bombshell
appreciatively. He fingered his chains.
"Between you and me, there's a lot of gold on this stage!"
Pam pretended to be supremely unimpressed.
"Did you think that up all by yourself or does a big star like you have
scriptwriters?"
Krusher's golden grin broadened. A loudmouth cunt was begging for abuse.
He glanced at Aleesha, naked on her knees, staring at Pam with aching, drying
eyeballs, learning what happens to a smartass.
"It's going to be a pleasure listening to a mouthy bitch like you scream.
We have you pumped up on bennies. Do you know why that is?"
Courtesy of the Benzedrine tablets she had been forced to gulp down
earlier, Pam's mouth was dry, her face was flushed and her heart was hammering
against her ribcage like a premature burial victim pounding on the coffin lid.
"It's so I won't pass out."
Krusher loved grinding a bitch hard.
"Correct! I want you to savour every slice of the whip. No escaping into
oblivion before we're done. I hear that, last time you were strapped, you just
couldn't keep your big fat mouth shut. Tell us about it."
Pam's face twitched at the memory. She thought about blowing Krusher off,
but the longer she kept this going, the longer it was until she felt the whip.
The brutal bullwhip scared her. The big black pimp smiled encouragingly, knowing
exactly the compromise she was making in her mind. He'd been bitch busting for a
long time. Pam gave him what he required.
"Yeah, I was hung by my wrists, dangling from the ceiling stark naked.
This guy beat my bare ass with a leather strap. I got extra if I made any noise,
so for once I was trying hard to keep quiet. Guys were betting on whether I
would make any noise and which stroke would make me sing. The whoremaster had
his ear to my lips to detect the smallest whimper."
Inquiring minds wanted to know.
"What happened?"
Pam's glistening face twitched again.
"The bastard with the strap kept hitting me in exactly the same place,
slowly, carefully and really, really hard. He was building a deep, sensitive
bruise on my buttcheeks. He made me scream all right. I almost popped the
whoremaster's eardrum when I let go!"
Krusher laughed.
"I'll warn the sound man, but don't worry! We're very easy-going here.
You can scream and beg all you want!"
"Gee, thanks!"
"What were you doing before you became a beat-me bitch?"
"I was a whore in a Chinese whorehouse, fucking guys eighteen hours a
day, seven days a week."
Krusher whistled.
"Sounds pretty hard core!"
"Yeah, the only time I got a break was when I took time to ice down my
cunt after it got too swollen from all the fucking."
"What sort of customers did you do?"
"I got the ugly ones with money. If he was fat and sweaty with warts, he
was all mine."
"Was there an up side to that?"
"Yeah, guys that ugly probably don't get laid often enough to get a
disease!"
Krusher kindly pointed out the flaw in her argument.
"On the other hand, guys that ugly can't be picky. They probably only
fuck scumbag whores like yourself, with real festering cesspits between their
legs."
Pam's pretty face twitched glumly.
"Yeah, probably."
Krusher's gold-toothed grin broadened.
"Sounds like the voice of experience! Catch any good diseases, Pammie?"
"A few!"
"Well, at least with this bullwhip, you'll be practising safe sex! It's a
guaranteed virgin bullwhip, never ripped apart any disease-raddled whores
before!"
Pam spoke bitterly.
"Gee, that's wonderful! It makes such a difference to me! I meet so few
virgins!"
Krusher slowly and insolently took in her golden girl looks with a
connoisseur's eye for white fuckmeat.
"For a disease-raddled whore, you look great, Pammie!"
"Gee, thanks! So, if I'm so great looking, why are you going to slice me
apart with a bullwhip?"
"Money, honey!"
Pam's bowels contracted at the raw hatred in his voice as he whispered
poisonously into her perfect ear, just barely loud enough for the mikes to
catch.
"And I just love watching a smart-mouthed, golden-girl, rich bitch get
all fucked up."
She looked into his stone cold eyes and saw death.
"Take off your clothes and show us the fuckmeat that the fat, sweaty
warthogs were pumping their diseased dicks into."
A whore's clothes are designed to come off easily and all that Pammie had
on was a skimpy red dress and a pair of strap-on fuck-me pumps. Despite this
handicap, pretty Pammie did a coy, lingering strip tease, trying to delay the
whipping as much as possible. She jiggled and wiggled delectably, feigning
surprise as her big bare boobs popped out, quivering eye-candy. Moving her hips
seductively, she slowly slithered out of her tight red dress like a snake
shedding its skin.
Krusher's black hands groped her creamy white flesh, squeezing and
probing intimately while Pam feigned indifference to his wonderfully invasive
fingers. He broke her indifference with a few vicious clit pinches. Once he had
her squealing and moaning, red-faced and gasping prettily, he withdrew his
fingers, mission accomplished.
He snapped the steel cuffs onto her slim ankles and dainty wrists. Two
thick steel cables led from her wrist cuffs to the ceiling on one side. Two
other thick steel cables led from her ankle cuffs to the floor on the other
side.
Krusher pumped his fist in the air twice, giving the signal. Powerful
winches took up the slack in the steel cables and Pam was jerked off her feet,
spread-eagled on a slant in mid-air.
Krusher winked at the camera.
"And now for that little surprise I mentioned earlier."
He turned to Pam and adopted an air of exaggerated innocence.
"Did I mention that you have to be stretched very tightly indeed so that
your skin splits open wide with each slice of the whip?"
Poor Pam, panting hard, dripping sweat, spread-eagled in mid-air with her
privates fully exposed, grimaced. Her voice was a hoarse whisper.
"How tight?"
Krusher's voice was warm as he was handed a remote control to the
winches.
"I'm afraid your joints will be pulled out of their sockets. It may give
you just the teeniest, tiniest little twinge of pain."
He pressed the button. Pam gibbered in terror as the powerful winches
began pulling her slowly in four different directions at once. The steel cables
thrummed, as they pulled taut. The engines emitted a deeper whine as they began
to pull more slowly, engaging their pitiless power against her stretched,
straining flesh.
Her tendons and ligaments tore agonizingly. Her knees and elbows shrieked
with pain. Pam shrieked right along. Her shoulders and hips were on fire as the
bones pulled out of their sockets. Her breasts were stretched flat on her chest.
Every rib on her quivering, sweat-slick torso was clearly visible as her tightly
stretched skin, taut as a drumhead, was sucked into the hollow between each rib.
Blood seeped onto the stainless steel cuffs eating into her wrists and ankles.
Only her body's tough tendons and ligaments were holding the suspended beauty
together. Her chest compressed. Unable to take a deep breath, Pam sucked in air
with short, frantic pants and whimpers.
Thoughtfully, Krusher halted the winches. Carefully, he gave poor
palpitating Pam the bare minimum of slack necessary to reseat her bones in their
sockets. Then he reversed the winches and pulled them out again. He did this
over and over again.
Pam's raw, hoarse screams echoed throughout the ship.
Spraying a mixture of spittle and snot from her gaping, foam flecked
lips, Pam shreiked insanely as Krusher performed his next agonizing trick. He
gripped one of her knees, above and below the joint. He paused for a moment,
enjoying the feel of her hot, taut, trembling, sweat-slick flesh under his
palms, a brutal gorilla pimp bonding with his bitch.
He twisted and jerked savagely. Her disjointed knee exploded in pain like
a pine knot in a hot fire.
He worked each of her joints with his strong, brutal hands, producing an
agonizing explosion of pain in each. He slipped two fingers up her cunt and
inserted a thumb up her rectum (the 'six-pack' grip). He bounced her dislocated
hips brutally. Her groin muscles stood out like straining cables on her
quivering inner thighs. She groaned in anguish as he pinched them.
Krusher smiled for the cameras, addressing the cyber-weenies who ate this
stuff up.
"Of course, a hardcore whore like Pam isn't happy unless she's being
fucked. I have a special dildo that only a painslut could love."
He picked up a long, thick, ribbed rod with a screw tip. He parted
Pammy's quivering cuntlips and pushed it as far as it would go, forcing it in
until the sharp point of the screw tip was resting against Pam's cervix.
Using both hands, he began screwing it in. Pam's voice rose to an
impossibly shrill octave as she felt the vicious bite of the screw ripping into
her cervix. A trickle of blood dripped from her nostril as her blood pressure
went through the roof. A powerful scream engine, Pam's dark red face was
contorted, mouth gaping wide, twisted into a rictus of hideous agony as shriek
after shriek powered through.
Krusher breathed deeply, inhaling the familiar torture chamber smells of
raw terror and gut wrenching anguish. The odour of blood and fear-sweat mixed
with that of urine and excrement as Pam voided her bowels and emptied her
bladder. Blood, snot and spittle sprayed out with each ghastly scream.
Krusher screwed in the thick, screw tip rod as tightly as possible. When
he was done, the rod projected lewdly from her cunt, bobbing obscenely between
her widespread legs with each gasp and shriek.
"While Pam has a good time stretching in, let me introduce Ivan, the whip
master."
A massive brute, stripped to the waist, Ivan snapped the bullwhip with a
mighty crack, narrowly missing Pam's flinching face.
"How fast does that bullwhip go?"
Ivan spoke with a heavy Russian accent.
"Da! Da! The crack of a whip is because the tip of the whip goes faster
than the speed of sound, Krusher. The sound is that of the tip breaking the
sound barrier. A bullwhip is actually a whip inside a whip, a beautifully savage
weapon."
Krusher nodded.
"Combine her tightly stretched flesh with that incredible speed and it
should slice Pam open beautifully."
Ivan, a brutal interrogator who had plied his trade extensively in the
Lubianka prison in the former U.S.S.R., was happy with his new job in the West.
It was so liberating to not have to worry about extracting information. It
allowed him to focus on his true love, brutalizing women. It gave an artist so
much more scope. He nodded his close-cropped head.
"That's right, Krusher. This beautiful new whip should open her up right
to the bone!"
"While your warming up your arm and Pam is stretching in, I'll get up
close and personal with the lovely Aleesha."
Drops of sweat trickled down her gleaming pate and on down her forehead.
They weren't stopped by her ex-eyebrows or ex-eyelashes, so they dripped into
her wide-open, big brown eyes, stinging strongly. Aleesha fought hard not to
blink her aching eyeballs.
She trembled in fear as she felt Krusher kneel behind her and unzip. Her
buttocks were prised apart and Krusher's monster member began pressing
insistently against her tightly puckered anus. One of the memories that ate like
acid into her mind was the shrill, piercing scream of a delicate redhead as her
asshole tore while trying to accommodate Krusher's monster member. As intended,
his accompanying words of wisdom were also burned into her brain - 'you
shouldn't have resisted, sweet meat. You should have relaxed so that your
asshole can open nice and wide.'
Aleesha worked hard to relax her aching rectum and accept his over-size
shit-weasel burrowing rabidly into her heinie hole. At the same time, she
struggled desperately not to blink. As Ivan began opening up Pam's back with the
bullwhip, Aleesha's drying, bloodshot eyeballs conveyed images to her brain,
images of Pam's taut torso, slick with blood and sweat, splitting open with a
sound like tearing fabric with each brutal stroke of the whip, images to be
seared indelibly into her melting mind.
Ivan was right.
Parts of Pam's ribcage and backbone were exposed with each savage slice
of the whip. Ivan took his time, re-positioning for each stroke, back and forth,
striking first from one side and then the other, carving diamond shaped chunks
of flesh from Pam's back. He sliced open her quivering thighs and the backs of
her knees.
The whip licked twice between her legs, slicing either side of the
quivering dildo protruding from her cunt, cutting deep into her taut groin
muscles. They snapped agonizingly like cut cables.
Moving to her front, he cracked the whip, brutally snapping her nipples,
which vanished in an explosion of blood. In a virtuoso display, he opened up two
parallel long slices along one side, opening Pam up from her armpits, along her
ribcage, the sensitive sides of her waist and down to her hips. She shrieked as
he snapped the tip of the whip at her armpit, ensnaring one end of the strip of
flesh between the two parallel cuts. Pam's screams sounded like nothing human as
he tugged gently. Slowly, agonizingly, he peeled the thin strip of skin from
between the cuts.
There is only so much that drugs can do. Pam passed out beyond any
short-term revival as he began repeating the process, peeling off a strip of
flesh down her other side.
A few days later, Krusher was standing next to Pam's bed. Aleesha, on her
knees between his legs, was giving Krusher a gum job. Since the removal of her
teeth, this was a new field for her. Her gums were still a bit sore, but Krusher
believed in setting a bitch to work as soon as possible. He grinned as Aleesha
laboured, sucking, licking and, very gingerly, gumming, his erect blacksnake.
Pam was in total despair.
"I'm ruined! I have more stitches than Frankenstein's monster! Why don't
you just kill me?"
Krusher was his usual considerate self.
"I'm surprised that you survived myself. I thought that we'd have to toss
your body overboard, give you the old heave 'ho, so to speak."
He chuckled warmly.
"You still have your pretty face and your bones are intact - perfect for
entertaining at this very special screamfest in Hamburg you'll be going to."
Not for the first time, her pretty face crumpled and Pam began to cry.
Chapter 7 - Die Singvogel
Walking along the street towards the entrance to Die Singvogel, Katja
instructed them.
"The club's in the basement. The only reason that you get into this
underground S&M club is that they know me and you are here as my guests! I pay
for everything! You pay me back afterwards! I guarantee that it will not cost
you more than thirty pounds for the evening! I will do all the talking and
translating. They don't speak much English and you wouldn't want a
misunderstanding with a Dominatrix!"
Behind her back, Penny and Nicole nudged each other and rolled their
eyes. As they reached the door to the club, Katja turned to face them. They
quickly straightened their faces and nodded solemnly.
"We wouldn't want that!!"
When Katja turned to go through the door, Penny looked skyward and shook
her head unbelievingly.
"Penny, what's a Dominatrix?"
Penny was unsure, but she didn't want Nicole to know. She replied
confidently.
"That's the person that runs the club. He's the guy in charge!"
"If it's a guy, wouldn't it be a Dominator?"
"It's different in German, silly!"
Nicole giggled.
"Of course! How stupid of me!"
They went down the stairs. It was like going to a speak-easy in
prohibition days. A slot in the metal door slid open. Katja spoke a password in
German and the door was opened. They found themselves in a vestibule. Two
amazons stood in front of a studded wooden door. They were dressed in police
hats, leather harnesses, jackboots, leather panties and thick belts supporting a
coiled bullwhip on one side and a cattle prod on the other. Each wore a badge
that said in English "the future of law enforcement!" Katja spoke quietly in
German to them as they eyed Penny and Nicole with predator's eyes.
Nicole, in her short clinging black dress and high heels, looked
eminently fuckable as usual. Penny, in her long red dress slit to the thigh, was
prime fuckmeat herself.
Nicole whispered to Penny.
"For sure, it's a fake! Those badges are in English!"
"Well, it's better than I expected! Those 'law enforcement' babes seem
pretty tough, and good-looking too!"
"Yes, no fat hausfraus yet! This may be one of the better tourist
shows!"
Katja made a big show out of paying the entrance fee.
"There's a raffle tonight. I'll keep your tickets as they're announcing
the winners in German."
"What's the prize?"
"I don't know. It's a surprise, but it's apparently very expensive!"
Katja gestured at the 'law enforcement' babes as the heavy studded door
opened.
"Anybody dressed like that is Security. They keep the peace as they
can't have the real police here and the patrons sometimes get rowdy."
Penny and Nicole were amazed as they stepped through the door.
"This is a LOT better than Pirates Of The Caribbean at Disneyland last
year!"
A heavy Techno music beat filled the air. The Amazonian security force
was strongly in evidence. They walked between two rows of heavy sacks hanging
from the ceiling. A sturdy rope tied tightly around the mouth of the sack
suspended each from the rafters. Each sack was moving continuously with muffled
squeals and shrieks emanating from within. Nicole cast an enquiring glance at
Katja.
"Those are the vermin sacks. A feminist magazine tried to write an
expose of the club. The club shut down the magazine completely. Each member of
the staff, as well as their 'significant other', has been stalked and captured.
We're talking about a bunch of bull dykes and their fluffy, ultra-feminine
admirers. Each has been stripped naked, hogtied and tossed in a sack with an
interesting selection of snakes, rats, fleas, lice and biting, stinging insects
to keep them amused. It shuts them right up. They don't dare open their big fat
feminist mouths for fear that something nasty might crawl in. Be warned!"
Penny nudged Nicole, whispering breathily in her ear.
"A VERY nice touch, but an obvious fake."
Nicole nodded judiciously.
"On the other hand, it's a pretty good fake. You can see the outline of
the writhing body, even to where the two breasts are pressing against the fabric
of the sack. I like the way each one is a bit different in shape and size. They
didn't repeat the same thing exactly for each sack. That's probably exactly how
it would look if it were real!"
Penny was pensive.
"If they're hogtied, that means that their thighs are spread. Those
creepy crawlies could wriggle into certain warm moist passages and make
themselves right at home!"
Giggling and shuddering like children at a horror movie, they moved
between the two rows of swaying, moaning vermin sacks with their squirming loads
of misery that formed a sort of entranceway to the club proper.
Their eyes were gripped by the spectacle in front of them.
The Pussy Maru had disgorged her cargo and Nikki, the reporter wannabe
from South America, was being welcomed to Hamburg. Two busty security babes were
busy screwing the nipple clamps onto the topless, pinch-faced slave as she stood
on a small raised platform. Nikki, her slim wrists bound behind her back, didn't
seem to be looking forward to her ride around the room. This involved being
suspended by her nipples, which were being brutally clamped to a T-bar. The
T-bar was set in a figure eight track set in the ceiling that would carry her
around the room, her high heels inches from the floor, ending up back where she
began. If lovely Nikki let out the smallest peep during this tour of the tables,
she got to do it again.
Nikki's voyage on the Pussy Maru had been a wonderfully educational
experience, teaching her the value of not fucking up on these challenges. The
security bitch flicked the switch and the T-bar was set in motion. It tugged
relentlessly at her nipples, stretching her breasts painfully until her toes
left the platform and Nikki began her agonisingly slow circuit of the room,
being groped, fondled, pinched and penetrated by cruel, questing fingers. Her
skimpy thong panties provided scant protection from the vicious, pinching,
intimately probing perverts lining her path. Brutally broken and painstakingly
trained, Nikki the painslut kept her lips grimly shut.
One of the security babes, a blonde Amazon with truly impressive biceps,
hearing their excited comments, gave Nicole and Penny a predatory glance.
"Care to try a circuit of the room on the Tit-Stretching T-bar, ladies?"
"Uh, no thanks!"
The security babe gave Nicole a wicked grin.
"You have all night to decide. My name is Erna. If you change your
minds, just let me know!"
Nicole swallowed.
"Uh, for sure, Erna! We'll, uh, keep your kind invitation in mind!"
They watched in awe the slow progress of the dangling painslut, lips
pressed firmly shut, thighs squeezed together tightly, buttocks clamped around
her thong. Tits stretched brutally, she was tugged by the T-bar at a languid
pace through a sea of sharp, viciously pinching, lacquered fingernails. The evil
female pain freaks knew exactly where to pinch. Penny whispered urgently to
Nicole.
"How do they fake that?"
Nicole, of course, had a theory.
"I think that she's a robot. You know, animatronics! Like Abe Lincoln at
Disneyland!"
"WOW! German technology is really impressive! She looks so real! Look at
her squirm and writhe! Look at how her cuntlips stretch and open up. That grimly
determined expression on her anxiously twitching face is absolutely perfect!"
They watched her sweat-slick nakedness twist and jerk in silent agony.
"Probably they can pack in some extra electronics to make her so
super-realistic by making her mute like that. Look, she's even sweating and her
bruises are swelling up! I wonder what material they make her breasts out of
that stretches like that?"
"It's probably some sort of tough rubber."
A girl whose pierced nipples poked out of two holes cut in her leather
vest silently guided them to their table and left without saying a word. Katja
gestured at the sturdy wooden chairs.
"Have a seat! I'll go to the bar and fetch some drinks. Look around.
Enjoy!"
Penny and Nicole stared in amazement at everything around them, eyes
huge as silver dollars. Snug leather outfits and piercings, some of them looking
exquisitely painful, were everywhere. A topless cigarette girl went by with her
tray of goods. Instead of the end of the tray being on a strap that looped
around her neck, two straps fastened the far end of the tray to her pierced
nipples, which were stretched painfully by the weight of the tray.
"Wow! It all looks so real!"
Katja came back with three steins of beer.
"I've ordered us a spanking!"
Penny looked at Nicole nervously, childhood memories stirring
uncomfortably.
"Uh, we don't want to be spanked!"
Katja threw back her head and laughed.
"Not you! I've ordered two submissives to be spanked with a leather
strap here at the table for your pleasure!"
Penny and Nicole were visibly relieved. Nicole nudged Penny and
whispered knowingly.
"Here's your wet noodle dipped in rouge, I bet!"
Penny nodded. Katja smiled radiantly.
"Let's tour the exhibits before we see our own up close and personal
spanking."
Penny whispered surreptitiously in Nicole's ear.
"Oooooo! Exhibits!"
Nicole was excited.
"If they're anything like that squirming, sweating robot with the
twitching face on the Tit-Stretching T-bar, it should be pretty good!"
Chapter 8 - Exhibitionists
Fresh from the Pussy Maru, haughty snotty Lori and the snitch bitch from
Canada were being put on the Parrot's Perch as part of their welcome to Hamburg.
Dressed in elbow length black opera gloves, stockings, gleaming black high heels
and nothing else, all their goodies were nicely exposed as they jiggled
delectably across the room to be sweated.
They were forced to sit on the floor with their knees pulled up, bare
thighs touching naked nipples. Their wrists were tied together in front of their
knees with a white plastic tie that could only be cut loose once tightened. A
long metal bar was passed under both their knees and over their arms. The metal
bar hoisted them into the air where they dangled prettily by their knees, side
by side. Bright red rubber balls were jammed between their parted lips. Each had
clear plastic tape wrapped around her pretty head a few times to hold the ball
gag in place.
Lovely Lori was finding the transition from rich bitch to spermbag
beat-me babe difficult. She squealed hysterically into her gag as a jar of
spiders was slowly opened in front of her terrified eyes. She screamed in horror
as they threw the large hairy arachnids into her pretty face. She froze in fear,
her eyes bugging out, as the huge spiders crawled spookily over her face and
breasts and into her hair.
The snitch bitch, a biker babe named Toni, was tougher as she stoically
received her face-full of spiders, watching grimly as they disappeared into the
valley between her naked breasts and crept eerily all over her bare skin. The
one slinking over her cuntlips with its long hairy legs made her toes curl as it
moved across sensitive nerve endings. It moved on to delicately poke at her
rectum while perched on her smoothly rounded buttock.
The spiders were lovingly collected and put back in their jars.
Up until now she had been tough, but the spiders had unhinged biker babe
Toni. She groaned and squirmed nicely as one end of a clear plastic tube was
jammed six inches into her cunt.
Totally freaked, the once-proud Lori squealed like a boiled pig as hers
was inserted. The peanut butter that was smeared around the end didn't do much
to smooth the way, even though it was the creamy kind.
The tube stretched from her cunt all the way across them room. Everyone
giggled as mice were fed in the far end of the tube. Their long whiskers
twitched as they sniffed the air. The mice smelled the peanut butter and, beady
little eyes gleaming, began to scurry eagerly along the tube.
Eyes huge as golf balls, Lori stared at the mouse running down the pipe
between her legs, making a beeline for her love tunnel. She wiggled her hips
frantically, trying to shake the mouse pipe loose.
Penny giggled and nudged Nicole.
"Look at the expression on that blond girl's face. She looks completely
panic-stricken! I love the way they have her eyes bugging out like that. They
even have the veins on her flushed, sweating face standing out and pulsing
nicely. What a job of animation!"
"I like the way the other one is trying to look cool, but loses it
completely when the mouse disappears inside her. You can hear them both panting
and squealing. There's some subtle artistry here. They probably use real mice
and spiders."
Penny nodded sagely. The Amazonian security guard with the big biceps had
taken a shine to Nicole.
"Care to join them up on the Parrot's perch? There's room for two more on
the bar. We have more plastic tubes, more peanut butter and lots more spiders
and mice! If you do it now, what comes next will be a big surprise to you!
There's still time!"
Nicole laughed.
"No thanks, Erna!"
Penny, convinced it was all a put-on, put in her tuppence worth.
"That tube and those mice aren't big enough for Nicole!"
Nicole gave her a playful shove. The security babe intervened.
"Ladies! Ladies! Calm down."
Erna nudged Nicole playfully.
"There are advantages to being a port city that never freezes over. We
have some truly impressive wharf rats! They never go hungry. And we have much
thicker tubes! The question is: could you handle it?"
"Nicole can handle the fleet! You should have seen her at business
school!"
The Amazonian security babe winked at Nicole.
"Can you handle what comes next?"
"There's more?"
They watched wide-eyed as the snakes were fed into the long cunt tubes.
The forked tongues of the snakes flickered, tasting the air. Scenting the mice,
they began to slither down the narrow confines of the tube, slowly worming their
way in the tight confines of the cunt pipes towards their prey.
Lori and Toni dangled naked, suspended by their knees from the bars. They
whimpered as the mice scratched and nibbled at the peanut butter inside their
cunts. Sweat ran in rivulets down their panting torsos. Their eyes bulged as
they saw the snakes coming down the pipes. Toni abandoned all pretence of being
cool, losing it completely.
The mice scented the snakes and began to claw desperately inside their
stretched gut holes. Shrieking like banshees into their ball gags, Lori and Toni
squirmed and writhed frantically, flushing brick red all the way down to their
wide-stretched cunts. Blood seeped from Lori's left nostril as her blood
pressure skyrocketed.
The snakes' heads disappeared inside the Canadian cunts. After allowing
the screeching, hysterically gibbering bitches a long desperate interval of
insane, pulse pounding terror, the cunt tubes were pulled out. The hind end of a
dead mouse hung from each snake's unhinged jaw as it poked out the end of the
pipe.
Everyone, except the two quaking, pasty-faced Canadian bimbos, clapped as
the valuable snakes were carefully pulled out of the tubes and gingerly placed
in a glass case to digest their meals in peace.
Toni and Lori were lowered to the floor and unbound. They huddled on the
floor, hands cupping their genitals, blood seeping from between their gloved
fingers. Sobbing and bawling hysterically, ball gags still in place, they were
hoisted onto gurneys and trundled off to tumultuous applause.
Katja was enthusiastic.
"Let's get next to one of the songbirds. They're scheduled to 'sing'
every half hour and it's almost time!"
Scattered throughout the room, the songbirds' gleaming chrome cages each
hung suspended on a long chain from the high ceiling. The wires and feeding tube
were intertwined with each long chain. Penny and Nicole eyed Ingrid's obscenely
displayed form, squatting in her gently swaying cage. Blindfolded with big
earmuffs clamped on her head, poor Ingrid was shaking quite badly. Penny nudged
Nicole.
"Wow! This is better than Madame Toussaud's Chamber Of Horrors! That
dummy looks real! Look at the way it sweats and pants."
Nicole nodded in agreement as she eyed the way Ingrid was wired up for
electroshock.
"I like the way the wires are clamped to her labia. That looks agonizing.
All the sensitive bits are covered. There are wires wrapped around her breasts,
clipped to her nipples and clit, long electrodes in her cunt and asshole,
electrodes pinned to her armpits, all over her stomach, the small of her back,
the backs of her knees and the soles of her feet. Her teeth, pierced ears and
tongue are all wired up. That pear-shaped jaw-stretching thing must really make
your jawbone ache. I'd freak just at being hooked up like that. They wouldn't
have to turn on the juice. I'd confess to anything!"
Penny agreed.
"Whoever designed the dummy did a lot of good work. Look at the way her
calf and back muscles are spasming, cramping up exactly like they would in real
life if you were forced to squat hunched over like that for long periods without
your heels able to touch the ground. Even her stretched jaw muscles are in
spasm. It would feel like devils were jabbing pitchforks into them."
Nicole giggled.
"I'll never complain about aerobics class again!"
"They even have an electrode rammed up off her pee hole, blocking it off.
That feeding tube up her nose keeps her belly full of water and God knows what
else! Even though she's sweating an ocean and smells like rotting seaweed, her
bladder must be ready to explode!"
Katja was breezily informative.
"The blindfold and earmuffs lock her into a world of pain with no
distractions. If you listen carefully you can hear the earmuffs actually have
small, but powerful, speakers in them that scream a countdown to her next
electroshock session into her cringing ears. You can that see her shaking
increases as the time gets near."
Penny and Nicole listened intently and heard the small shrieking voice
emitting from the earmuffs.
"This is just so fiendishly ingenious!"
The chrome cage rattled like thunder as Ingrid began shivering
uncontrollably. The entire bar began chanting along as the countdown headed into
its final stages.
"ZEHN!"
"NEUN!"
"ACHT!"
"SIEBEN!"
"SECHS!"
"FUNF!"
"VIER!"
"DREI!!"
"ZWEI!!!"
"EINS!!!!"
There was an electronic hum and loud cheers as Ingrid's entire body
jerked violently and flushed brick red. Dr. Mandro's computer controlled shock
sequences turned Ingrid into a screaming animal. Her brains and organs liquefied
into quivering jelly. Ingrid's blood felt like it was boiling in her veins as an
electrical firestorm erupted inside her. It blossomed in her belly and burned
outwards along her ragged, shrieking nerves to the extremities of her body.
Her rigid body jerked in spasm against the confining bars. Agony gripped
her vitals in a giant vice, crushing them cruelly. Her breath screamed in and
out in tight hisses, whimpers and sharp squeals. Electricity pulsed through her
cramping muscles. She quivered, taut as a bowstring, as her muscles corded and
knotted, feeling like they were trying to burst through her sweating, tightly
stretched skin. Lightning bolts of current burned through her guts. Bolts of
electrical fire scorched her breasts. Her genitals flamed as pain scourged them
savagely. Her bare buttocks clamped to agoninzing tightness. Awash in a sea of
anguish, racked by the demons of electricity, her naked body visibly wilted
under the hammer blows of pain.
Finally, the current was switched off. Ingrid sagged the scant inches her
bonds would allow, whimpering like a badly wounded animal. The pounding of her
heart, as it worked hard to restore her in time for the next brutally savage
session, hammered loudly in her ears.
She sobbed brokenly as the deafening voice in her earmuffs started
screeching out the long countdown to the next fry-fest.
Penny and Nicole were impressed.
"Wow! What a show!"
Nicole shook her head.
"I wonder what sort of sick, twisted mind thinks up this stuff?"
Penny shuddered delicately.
"Yeah! Whoever thought this up must be one creepy little pervert!"
Nicole glanced around her significantly.
"Shhh! I think that we're surrounded by them!"
They giggled and ordered more beer.
Chapter 9 - Live Entertainment
After a few steins of good German ale, Penny and Nicole were feeling
very mellow and relaxed indeed. Katja clapped her hands in delight.
"It's time for the spanking!"
Penny nudged Nicole as she saw the quartet of females heading towards
their table.
"Look who it is!"
"It's those snotty fashion models: Shannon and Ashley. Who would have
guessed? What bitches! Those two snub us every chance they get."
"So I guess some of this is real."
"Sort of a Disneyland for adults! Mixing in the animatronics with the
actors and actresses."
Penny grinned.
"It looks like they're the spankees."
Nicole was indignant.
"Is this the sort of 'modelling' they do? I bet that they can't make
enough doing ordinary modelling. They must do this to moonlight. What snotty
little losers! And they look down their noses at us!"
Penny smirked and nudged her playfully.
"Let's see if we can get them pounded. Even if it's make-believe with a
rouged up wet noodle, we can make them really work for their money."
Nicole grinned back.
"It could be real. I mean, even small children can handle being spanked.
It's no big deal!"
Penny bounced with excitement.
"Oh, I hope so! I'm going to love watching these two get their bare bums
paddled!"
She looked expectantly at Katja.
"Their bums will be bare, won't they?"
Katja, bemused by their sudden enthusiasm, nodded.
"Of course!"
Two quite lovely, if hard faced, beauties muscled Shannon and Ashley over
to the table. Despite this, Shannon and Ashley walked smoothly towards them in
black spike heels, buttocks undulating in a saucy, eye-catching model's stride.
Katja made the introductions.
"The submissives are Shannon and Ashley who, it seems, you already know.
The dominatrixes are Tamara and Rebekka."
Tamara and Rebekka wore tight black leather from their necks right down
to their spike heeled leather boots. Each held a heavy leather strap in her
hand. Shannon and Ashley were dressed as rather unhappy-looking schoolgirls,
their school uniforms deliberately too small. Their pleated skirts were ultra
short and their bra-less breasts strained the buttons of their blouses. White
knee high socks and black penny loafers completed their fetching ensemble.
Nicole smirked.
"Is this the sort of 'modelling' you do?"
Ashley eyed her sourly.
"It is these days! What are you two doing here?"
"Enjoying the sights and you're definitely a sight!"
Nicole looked expectantly at Tamara.
"How many strokes are they going to get on their bare bums?"
"Ten apiece."
"That hardly seems to be enough! Couldn't they get more?"
Tamara winked slyly.
"I suppose we could go up to sixteen. Feel the leather in this strap.
Very high quality! It's two strips of leather sewn around a steel spring to give
it lots of snap. I guarantee a thick welt with each stroke."
Everybody enjoyed Shannon and Ashley's obvious discomfiture on hearing
this charming interchange. Nicole flexed the stiff leather strap and licked her
lips eagerly. There was no way that this was faked. She handed the strap back to
Tamara, eyes gleaming. In her battles of wit with Shannon and Ashley, poor
Nicole had been humiliated thoroughly. This was payback, where her side
definitely had the whip hand.
"Excellent! Let's see them bare their bums and touch their toes. It
reminds me of boarding school: the older girls greeting the new arrivals!"
Penny tittered.
"Giving them a warm welcome to make them feel right at home!"
Rebekka and Tamara grinned knowingly at each other. This was the reason
that spanking was referred to on the continent as 'the English vice', not that
it was unpopular elsewhere. Penny and Nicole chugged their beer and giggled
tipsily as Ashley and Shannon glumly pulled down their panties, bent over and
touched their toes.
Two pairs of delectably naked buttocks quivered in fearful anticipation
while everyone had a good look. Their gang-banged cuntlips were red and swollen
from vigorous reaming by teams of hard humping rapists. Penny nudged Nicole
knowingly.
"Look at that! The shameless hussies are getting off on all this!"
Nicole nodded and smirked, feeling very superior.
"Who would have guessed? They're bleedin' pervies!"
Nicole and Penny sniggered contemptuously as Ashley and Shannon's faces
burned a bright red, knowing that explanations were futile and might earn them
extra.
The room went silent. Rebekka and Tamara raised their straps. A sound
like two rifle shots echoed through the suddenly quiet room. Ashley and Shannon
yelped, straightening up so suddenly that the straining buttons on their blouses
went flying. Bare breasts burst from tight tops, wiggling and jiggling as their
owners grabbed their burning bums with both hands and began dancing around
frantically.
Everyone sniggered and clapped their hands with delight. Two security
babes surrounded Shannon. They each gripped an arm, put it behind her back and
pulled upwards, forcing her to bend over once more. The back of her skirt was
flipped up and her bare bum was ready for action once more. Two others handled
Ashley.
Penny and Nicole were enchanted as they inspected the angry red welt
across Shannon's lily-white bum. Shannon shuddered as Nicole ran her finger
along the welt.
"You have a really good arm, Tamara! A lot better than the Head Prefect
back at the girls' school Penny and I went to."
Tamara simpered modestly.
"Rebekka and I both play lots of squash. It's all in the wrist action."
They saw that Ashley's welt was definitely a superior specimen as well,
blazing a bright red stripe across her pale white buns. Tamara handed Nicole the
strap. Rebekka handed hers to Penny.
"Care to try, girls? Aim for right next to the first one."
Nicole giggled in delight, bonding beautifully with the whip bitch.
"I'd love to! It's a dream come true, Tamara."
Nicole and Penny gripped their straps with both hands and wound up like
cricketers defending the wicket against a strong pitch. They both swung hard.
Two more rifle cracks split the air. Shannon and Ashley surged forward onto the
very tips of their toes, bare breasts lifting in unison, faces red, mouths open
wide, squealing like scalded cats. The tough security babes forcefully
restrained them as two more stripes blossomed violently on their quivering,
dimpling butt cheeks.
Tamara was approving as she and Rebekka took back the straps.
"You girls show definite talent. We'll lay down a nice row of welts from
their bums down to the top of their thighs. For number sixteen, we'll give you
two the straps and you can lay on the last one as a welt on top of a welt. That
can be a sort of good-by kiss to your painslut friends!"
Nicole looked at Shannon's bright red bum and her fully distended
vaginal lips.
"Painsluts! It describes them perfectly!"
Tamara grinned.
"You two have worked hard and we have the evidence to prove it!"
She ran her finger along Shannon's fresh welt. Shannon gasped and cursed,
struggling futilely in the strong, controlling grip of the butch bitches.
"Have a beer while your friends enjoy the kiss of the strap! Then you can
give them a farewell kiss of the strap to send them screaming on their way!"
Nicole and Penny drank deeply from their steins, watching a row of five
thick, bright-red welts march down Ashley and Shannon's pale white bums. They
enjoyed the way their buttocks spasmed and their thighs quivered as each cruel
kiss of the strap caused a fresh welt to blossom painfully. The red stripes
contrasted sharply with the creamy white skin of their smoothly rounded ass
globes. The two fashion models gasped, whimpered and begged futilely for mercy,
screeching wildly and struggling futilely with each stroke.
The decibel level rose sharply as Tamara and Rebekka layered the second
set of five strokes precisely on top of the first. Each angry red welt was
turned into a dark bruise. Their tears dripped onto the floor. Their haunches
danced and their bare breasts shuddered and shook as they surged forward with
each searing stroke, firmly gripped by the security babes.
The screams were turned into groans and sobs of the deepest agony as a
third layer of five welts was laid precisely on top of the first two. Each welt
assumed the dark purple of a bone deep bruise.
For the final stroke, the straps came handed over to Penny and Nicole.
Although feeling a bit tipsy, they focused on the task at hand, pasting the
proffered heinies with another hard one. Since this was laid on top of three
layers of welt, Shannon and Ashley shrieked like fire sirens, bawling and
blubbering. They were frog marched from the room.
Tamara was admiring.
"You two are superb! Shannon and Ashley are definitely down on their
luck, doing desperate things for money and getting off on it as you so cleverly
noticed."
Nicole simpered modestly. It wasn't often that anyone called her clever.
Tamara had a friendly little offer.
"Do you want to see the two fashion model painsluts shaved bald? They're
giving a special performance at a very private costume ball being held here in
Hamburg. I can get you in."
"We'd love to, but we don't have any costumes!"
Behind Penny and Nicole's back, Katja winked at Tamara.
"No problem! Rebekka and I will supply you with costumes."
Chapter 10 - Prize-Winning Pussy
Penny and Nicole excitedly accepted their invitations to the
Frauleinschlachtfest and went to the dressing rooms by the stage to try on and
select their costumes. On stage, the Shanghai Cowgirls, fresh off the Pussy
Maru, were being introduced.
The bra-bursting Chinese beauties stood in a row facing the audience,
dressed in cowboy boots and Stetsons. Their sexy legs were clad in fringed
leather chaps, nicely rounded bare buttocks hanging out the back. Leather vests
just barely covered their top-heavy torsos.
Beautifully trained, they stripped with alacrity, beach ball breasts
bursting from their vests. Their chaps hit the floor in unison. Naked in cowboy
hats and boots, they spread their legs. Pumping their pussies lewdly, they bent
over and grabbed their ankles.
The Amazon security babes moved in. Plastic ties were pulled tight,
fastening each wrist to the corresponding ankle. The Cowgirls leaned back and
sat down on their bare buns, legs splayed obscenely. The plastic ties were
fastened to chains hanging from the ceiling and they were hoisted high in a row
along the wall facing outwards, legs and arms spread wide, a beautiful study in
primal crotch display.
The security babes took out paintball guns, stood in a row like a firing
squad and took careful aim. The Shanghai Cowgirls, their eyes huge, began
frantically pumping their hips, trying to make their temptingly exposed fuck and
shit holes as difficult a target as possible. The security babes began target
practise, aiming for big brown nipples, open cunt holes and exposed wrinkled
rectums.
The TV sets at the corners of the room and behind the bar revealed the
interiors of the brightly lit dressing rooms. The patrons grinned as Penny and
Nicole, ignorant of the spy cameras, stripped down to their bras and panties,
trying on costumes. Their high cut panties and low cut bras were greatly
admired. Everyone agreed that the leggy, boob-a-licious English beauties were
prime cuts of meat. Penny settled on a Cleopatra costume and Nicole decided to
be Josephine. Penny and Nicole came back to their table, wondering briefly why
they were suddenly drawing appreciative glances from the peeping Toms and
Tomasinas in the crowd. They placed the boxes containing their costumes on the
table.
The Shanghai Cowgirls screamed as the paintballs burrowed hotly into open
cuntholes. Penny and Nicole sat down just as sharp shooting Erna nailed her
wildly humping pigeon in the belly button, both nipples, stung her clit with a
fourth shot, burned one into her target's cunt and scorched one up her ass hole.
As the Cowgirl fainted, Erna pursed her lips and coolly blew over the barrel of
her gum, a modern day Annie Oakley. She bowed to a generous round of applause,
led by Nicole.
"I say! The fun never stops here!"
Katja had some good news.
"While you were out, they had the raffle. You each won a prize! Go up to
the stage and receive an expensive surprise!"
Nicole squirmed a little.
"After we receive our prizes, I've got to spend a penny in the loo."
Penny nodded.
"Me too! First thing after we scoop our loot, show us they way to the
W.C.! This German beer is fabulous, but my bladder is almost bursting. I've got
to drain the main vein!"
Katja smiled.
"No problem!"
The Security babes escorted the prizewinners onto the stage, positioning
them in front of two large pillars. If our tipsy heroines had been somewhat more
observant, they would have noticed that the pillars had a row of holes drilled
in them. Behind Penny, at neck level, a loop of rope had been passed through one
of the holes with a loop hanging out either side. Nicole had the identical
arrangement behind her.
Katja handed them each a heavy gift-wrapped prize requiring both hands to
grip it. Penny and Nicole eagerly tore open the wrapping. As they stared
stupidly at the large rock that had been so carefully gift-wrapped, the loop of
rope on their side of the pillar was dropped over their head.
Behind the pillar, Erna inserted a steel baton in the loop of rope
hanging out the hole on the far side from Nicole. She braced a foot against the
pole and leaned backwards, pulling the rope tight around Nicole's neck through
the hole in the pillar. Nicole was jerked backwards, banging her head painfully
against the thick pole. Erna began to twist the steel baton in the loop,
converting it to a powerful tourniquet around Nicole's neck. As Nicole began to
choke, Erna's pal Katrina tightened the tourniquet around Penny's neck, jerking
Penny back against the pole and twisting her steel baton.
Eyes bulging, Penny and Nicole dropped the decoy rocks. The stones hit
the wooden stage floor with a large thump. Their clawing fingers scrabbled
uselessly against the choke ropes wound tight, eating inexorably into their
throats. Penny and Nicole kicked futilely, the thick pillars shielding Erna and
Katrina as they twisted the choke ropes with the steel batons.
The choke ropes were manipulated skilfully, slackening and tightening,
keeping their victims strangling and struggling hard for the crowd. Their
tongues protruded from darkened, congested faces. Penny and Nicole choked and
coughed, pinned by their necks to the thick pillars while the audience applauded
and hooted appreciatively. Their breasts quivered. Their buttocks dimpled and
clenched. Their thighs pumped sinuously as their legs jerked up and down,
unintentionally jiggling their tits and flashing their panties to the crowd.
Almost in unison, their bursting bladders emptied, spraying urine messily
from between parted, quivering thighs. Good German beer piss spattered noisily
onto the wooden floor. Erna and Katrina kept them writhing and squirming,
prancing prettily in puddles of piss, until they unloaded thick warm turds into
their high cut panties. They slackened the choke ropes, untwisting them enough
to allow them to pant and gasp, their torsos heaving.
Tamara and Rebekka escorted Shannon and Ashley onto the stage, carrying a
bucket of soapy water with a sponge floating in it in one hand and a feather. As
befitted their role as clean-up babes, Ashley and Shannon now wore form-fitting
French maid costumes. Shannon playfully brushed her feather duster over Nicole's
heaving tits.
"Are you having fun yet, Nicole? Suddenly, I'm enjoying myself!"
Nicole, gasping hoarsely, just stared at her, dumbfounded. Shannon
wrinkled her nose disdainfully.
"Did baby go poopoo in her panties with everybody watching?"
Behind the pillar, Erna grinned.
"I think baby wants to be stripped and cleaned while everyone watches!"
She gave the garrotte a warning twist. Nicole's eyes bulged briefly.
"Isn't that what pretty Nicole wants?"
Not too surprisingly, Nicole proved agreeable.
"That's exactl what I want. I'll do anything you want as long as it
doesn't involve not breathing!"
Katrina gave a warning twist of the garrotte and Ashley anxiously chimed
in.
"Me too!"
Erna nodded briskly at Ashley and Shannon.
"Strip them and clean up that disgusting mess between their legs!"
Shannon looked deep into Nicole's fear-stricken, bloodshot eyes, set in
her congested, crimson face, and seemed satisfied with what she saw.
"My pleasure, Mistress!"
Ashley smirked at Penny as she unzipped Penny's long red dress with the
sexy slit.
"Same here, Mistress!"
Nicole's clinging black dress fluttered to the floor where it joined
Penny's red dress in soaking up the pee. Their low cut bras were undone and,
after a brief, eyeball-popping warning not to cover up, they were flashing their
tits, bouncing their big bumpers lewdly for the crowd.
Nicole's eyelashes fluttered nervously, deeply humiliated, as Shannon
dusted Nicole's breasts with a true gay girl's touch, skilfully tickling her
nipples erect with the feathers of her duster. Penny squirmed in embarrassment
as Ashley swabbed her big red nipples erect with a cold wet sponge.
With a moue of distaste, Shannon peeled Nicole's feculent, piss-soaked
panties down her shapely legs. Picking up her sponge from the bucket, her deeply
bruised buns aching, Shannon's eyes narrowed to an evil squint.
"It's time to wipe baby's bum. Spread 'em, Nicole."
Nicole's eyeballs rolled upwards as Shannon applied the wet sponge to
Nicole's slit, daintily winkling out the tiny turdlets tucked in Nicole's labial
folds. She took her time, working patiently, loving the way Nicole's naked
thighs quivered in fear.
That done, she went for the gusto.
She worked the sponge into the crack of Nicole's ass, digging deep to
scoop out a trench full of reeking brown turd porridge. The audience tittered as
it plopped wetly into the bucket. Nicole's face flushed an even deeper shade of
crimson, as Shannon made sure that her rectum was squeaky clean.
Next to her, Penny enjoyed a similarly intimate humiliation as Ashley
swabbed her cuntlips clean and then spread them wide with her fingers to probe
Penny's love canal intimately with the sponge, stuffing it all in and then,
pinching the exposed portion delicately with her fingernails, tugging it out.
She repeated the fecal sponge rape a few times to make sure that Penny (and the
sniggering audience) had savoured all aspects of this degrading, unsanitary,
public violation. Penny's trench of turd porridge was scooped from her crack and
plopped wetly into Ashley's bucket. She was quaking nicely as Ashley wormed a
corner of the sponge into Penny's tightly puckered anus and twisted repeatedly
for a wonderfully invasive rectal ream.
Erna was concerned that Shannon and Ashley were having way too much fun
with their stressed-out, panting victims. She had a simple cure.
"To make sure that you two have done a good job of cleaning Penny and
Nicole, I want you to give them a nice Lezzie Lick."
Shannon and Ashley stared at her blankly. Erna clarified her demand.
"I want you to get down on your knees and use your tongues. Lick them
along the crack of their ass and along their slits. Stick your tongues inside
their rectums and cunts. Run them inside the folds of their labia. Make sure
they taste sweetly inside and out. Rebekka and Tamara will make sure that you do
a thorough job. Don't disappoint them!"
Looking a bit sick, Shannon and Ashley dropped to their knees. With
minimal coaxing, Nicole and Penny spread their legs and thrust their hips
forward, displaying themselves obscenely to the crowd.
Nicole was surprised at how invasive a wet tongue felt, insinuating
itself into the crack of her ass. She gasped as her rectum was opened and
Shannon's tongue slithered inside like a slimy worm.
Next to her, Penny moaned as Ashley's soft tongue gently probed the folds
of her labia and skilfully teased her clit erect. She was surprised at the
emotions flooding her as Ashley moved her to the very verge of orgasm with her
knowing tongue. Just before Penny came, Ashley nipped the tip of her clit hard
with her teeth. Penny squealed in shock and clamped her hands protectively over
her slit.
Ashley smirked as everyone enjoyed a dirty snigger. Nicole went pale as
Shannon made a playful remark about how unsanitary it was to go straight from a
rectum to a cunt, preparatory to her invasive tongue-rape. She curled her long
tongue and jammed it into Nicole's fuckhole, wiggling it inside her as deep as
she could go. Her muscular tongue briskly folded back her labia. Nicole
whimpered as Shannon's teeth nibbled at her genitals, playfully pretending to be
about to bite out a large chunk of pink flesh.
Nicole begged.
"Please don't!"
The audience urged her to go for it. Fed up with her antics, Erna gripped
Shannon by the hair and jerked her to her feet. She trotted her over to a clear
plastic bathtub.
"Strip and get in!"
Nicole's hands started to go towards the choke rope. Totally in command,
the Amazonian security babe froze her with a look.
Since the French maid outfit was designed for quick removal, Shannon
stripped in no time and stepped into the tub.
"Sit!"
Looking scared, Shannon sat in the middle of the tub. Erna grabbed Ashley
and muscled her over to the tub where she quickly stripped for the crowd.
"Sit back to back and link your elbows!"
Ashley sat in the see-through plastic tub resting her back against
Shannon's smooth, warm, bare back. Her breasts bobbed perkily as she hooked her
elbows around Shannon's. Erna set up chairs around the tub and turned to the
audience.
"Does anybody want to drain the lizard?"
Grinning men scrambled up on the chairs and unzipped. Erna held up her
hand to halt the proceedings. She glared at the two fashion models.
"Open your mouths and keep them open or I'll pound you shitless!"
She flexed one of her massive biceps. Thoroughly cowed, Shannon and
Ashley opened their mouths. Erna gestured to an overhead walkway with a slit
down the middle as she addressed the female members of the audience.
"Ladies are welcome to squat overhead."
She grinned at the men on the chairs, dicks in hand.
"Gentlemen, start your engines!"
Streams of dark, smelly beer piss squirted into flinching faces and
sprayed bouncing tits. A steady spatter of pee began raining down from the
overhead walkway to soak their hair. Erna issued a brief warning.
"Keep those mouths open nice and wide, you smartmouth cunts. If you close
them even the tiniest bit, I'll twist your tits off with my bare hands!"
Shannon and Ashley, soaked and miserable, opened wide and kept them open
as streams of smelly pee sprayed tastily over their tongues and more piss
trickled down their faces and into their mouths. The level of yellow in the tub
began to rise and they felt a warm trickle of urine flow into their slits.
Erna stalked back to a smirking Penny and Nicole.
"Is something funny, sluts?"
The smirk was instantly wiped from their faces, replaced by naked fear.
Erna glanced at Nicole's legs.
"Spread 'em, nice and wide."
Nicole parted her shapely legs, exposing her smooth shaven slit to the
crowd again, as Katrina positioned a steel bar between her slender ankles. A
short length of chain attached to a shackle hung from either end of the bar. The
shackles were clamped snugly around her ankles. The chain allowed limited
movement, but the bar kept her spread and totally exposed.
"Hands behind your back!"
A long leather sleeve fitted with a row of straps and buckles was slipped
over her arms. Her hands, palms facing each other, were slipped into stiff
leather pouches sewn together at the end of the sleeve, separating them and
rendering them useless. A studded black leather belt was wrapped around the two
pouches and cinched tight, just above her knuckles, forcing her fingers flat.
The row of straps along the sleeve was buckled to bone crunching tightness,
crushing her arms together and forcing her bare breasts up and out.
A large sponge glued around the end of a metal pipe with holes drilled
into it was forced between her lips. A strap, fastened to the pipe and buckled
around the back of her head, held the pipe in place between her teeth while the
thick sponge on the end of the pipe filled her mouth.
Next to her, Ashley was being forced into a similar outfit.
Erna held up a gorilla mask.
"Ready for the Costume Ball, slut?"
The mask was fitted over Nicole's face. The end of the pipe protruded
from the mouth of the mask. There were no eyeholes, so Nicole found herself in a
world of darkness. It was a stuffy, itchy world of darkness as the inside of the
mask was lined with goat hair, laced with shredded fibreglass insulation.
Her torso was wrapped in a furry, ape skin corset lined with the itchy,
irritating goat hair sprinkled with shredded fibreglass insulation. It laced
together behind her. Katrina rested a knee against her back and pulled the
corset laces brutally tight, constricting her chest. Unable to breath normally
in the tight corset, Nicole began to suck in air in a series of rapid, shallow
pants. Inside the corset, her breasts and belly, chaffing against the goat
hairs, began to burn a bright red.
Her ankles were unclamped briefly as hair leggings were pulled up her
legs to cover her thighs and calves. High-heeled goat-hair-lined booties were
fitted over her feet and buckled in place. Her pretty toes curled as the soles
of her feet began to itch desperately.
Unable to hear any commands inside the heavy, claustrophobic mask, she
was pushed into a large cage. The backs of her knees were kicked and Nicole was
forced to kneel. Her face, burning red inside the mask, was forced to the floor.
The pipe protruding from her mouth fitted into a hole in the floor of the cage
and was clamped firmly in place. Underneath the cage floor, the end of the pipe
was connected via a hose to a large drip bottle of urine. A bar never lacks for
piss. The urine in the drip bottles had been left in pans, allowing a lot of the
water to evaporate. This concentrated the essence and produced a truly tasty
vintage. Nicole moaned as she began to suck on the stale urine that soaked the
sponge filling her mouth.
In the cage next to her, Penny was also kneeling and savouring the taste
of concentrated beer piss. Her legs were spread and her ankles clamped down to
the floor of the cage.
Feeling hot and feverish, their red, irritated skin burned in itchy
distress. Penny and Nicole knelt in adjoining cages, kissing the floor, sucking
on urine concentrate, their rumps in the air, genitals exposed.
Playfully, Erna waggled the monkey tails in the air. Each was attached to
a thick butt plug. With no lubrication, using only brute force, she rammed them
home to complete their monkey suits. Penny and Nicole shrieked wildly at the
brutal violation. Pulling the trigger at the base of each tail, she caused the
thick knob at the end of each butt plug to open like a flower inside her
victims' bowels, anchoring it in place.
Lest she be enjoying herself too much, Erna returned to Nicole's cage
with a bare, glowing 200-watt light bulb on the end of a long cord. She calmly
listened to the blood-curdling scream as she parted Nicole's labia and touched
her cuntlips with the hot bulb, turning it continually to ensure contact with
the hottest spot. She scorched her shrieking victim's genitalia until the
cuntlips were bright red, fully distended and obscenely swollen to the
proportions of a cow cunt.
Even inside her stifling mask, Penny could hear Nicole's screams. Her
fearful speculations about the possible cause were ended when the hot light bulb
kissed her cuntlips. Her full-throated shrieks, even muffled by a mouthful of
sponge and a heavy mask, were clearly audible. Even those sitting at the most
distant tables got a satisfying earful.
The two Rape Apes, Romeo and Valentino, were led in and placed in a cage
with their victims. Chosen for their sexual aggressiveness and stamina, the
large hairy apes sniffed at the grotesquely swollen, proffered fuckholes, Penny
and Nicole whimpering with every puff of ape breath on their seared genital
openings. The apes, exploring further, drew sharp squeals as they tugged at the
distended, exquisitely throbbing labia. The cries of females in profound
distress rose sharply as they slipped their hairy fingers into the tight
orifices. All this merely excited the animals. Romeo and Valentino cut the
foreplay and moved to mount their 'mates'.
As they mounted their 'mates' for an ear-splitting ape rape,
jack-hammering their hard penises into aching, burning holes, Erna and Katrina
chatted amicably. Erna eyed the clock.
" We only have to wait another hour. Then it's midnight and the
Frauleinschlachtfest begins."
Katrina gestured at Penny and Nicole, bellowing hoarsely under the hard,
hairy assault.
"It's so kind of our guests to volunteer to attend the party."
Erna eyed them judiciously.
"I think those costumes look much better than the ones they selected:
Cleopatra and Josephine indeed!"
Katrina sniggered.
"When it comes time to move them to the Schachtfest, it would be a shame
to interrupt them when they're in the throes of passion."
Erna spoke piously albeit loudly to carry over all the noise as the
rutting primates rattled the cages with their fast, brutal thrusts. The searing
penile pounding caused the raw screams of anguish to rise to a fresh peak.
"We don't have to interrupt them. We can ship them to the party in their
cages along with their 'lovers'. We must let true love run its course."
Katrina nudged her.
"Oh, Erna, you're such a romantic!"
