THE FARM 2 - extract

© DrkFetyshNyghts 2019

 

The rubber clad woman tugged the harness and peeled Amy away from the door frame. There was this stretch of thick, thick cuntal fluid that stretched more as she was moved away from the door frame and then turned. That particular string of drool wrapped itself around Amy's own leg and snapped. The woman guided her back in, forwards to the door frame. She didn't need to tell Amy what to do, she just did it. And she did it hungrily, needily. There was this wish, this 'thing' that must have existed in Amy's head. And that in the form of a wish that she was addicted to some illegal substance so that she could absorb the effects of the degradation. She had this need to orgasm, but she also had her mind intact and that was what she might have been wishing. That she could take something, something illegal that would just take her mind away for a little time. And yet, Amy had enough of herself left intact to know that she was being kept away from that kind addiction deliberately as part of the torture. Of course drugs would see her through this in a better way for her. But it was not about making things better for her. It wasn't about making it better for her in any way, shape or form.

Amy slithered out her tongue, and there was this largeness to that tongue that kind of defied any logic in the first instance. She had been trained to extend her tongue all the way out for various reasons. And in order to lick her own mess off that door frame she was doing just that. The full size, thickness and volume of her tongue was out, and the sight was alarming. It would be a sight that would disturb anyone from the normal world. But there were even gasps from the collected audiences and then ripples of applause as she used the fullness and the flatness of her tongue to lick that frame. The texture and the feel of those juices in her mouth would have been doing something to feed the arousal in Amy. It would have been the way that deep and edge like arousal made anyone do more and more obscene and disgusting things. Amy would do anything, literally anything in order to get an orgasm. Of course she wouldn't be given one - at least she wouldn't be given one yet. Those implants inside her doing their stuff to keep her on that edge. And it was like that edge was so precise, so minutely accurate in its maintenance, that there was no escape to orgasm available to Amy. But that wouldn't stop her trying.

And the way she licked that door frame was naturally sensual. She was wired for sex, she was wired to be sexual and every one of her movements broadcast her sexual state. The torture for Amy was yes that she could not cum - and it was the level of arousal that was breaking her down from within. But it was also that she knew what was happening to her. It was another case for her needing something illegal to get her through it. She would have welcomed something illegal right now. She would have given anything to not know what was happening to her. And yet the irony she was in the middle of something that was wholly illegal. Hope Farm was illegal, and it didn't exist - except it did exist. And that it was illegal didn't matter. It didn't matter at all.

Amy was sneering, and snarling in that sexually hungry way as she licked that door. And she was looking at the paying guests. She was giving them their money's worth. It was hard to believe that Amy had been dignified and elegant once. It would be hard to believe that she had been a decent woman - a mother - a pillar of the community even. But that was just it - everyone in that room at Hope Farm knew of Amy and where she had come from and what she had lost. They knew because it was part of the 'thrill' for them to know that - to know that she came from a decent place, and that she wasn't in that decent place now. That was the thrill - what Amy was and what she wasn't now. And that she knew it. One had to wonder how often she thought about the twins now - now that she was this deep in her own sexual addictions.