EXTRACT FOR
Lavender's Tale
(Paul Blades)

     I don't know who will be reading this, but I've been told to put everything down. What happened to me is, was, really, unbelievable, and whoever reads this, if you find it hard to accept as something that could actually happen to someone, remember that there are many hidden, strange things in life and think twice. I will tell my story in all its horrific detail. When you're done, you can decide if I'm telling the truth or not.

      Not too long ago, I'm not sure exactly how long for reasons that will be explained later, I was dancer at a club called The Pussycat. The name of the town doesn't matter as I'm sure that nothing will ever happen to the people who brought about my terrible fate. I was one of the hotshot dancers you see collecting a g-string full of paper currency. I was shapely, young, not over 22, and hot as a pistol. I knew it and so did all the chumps that came see me dance. It's no lie.

      I had been dancing at The Pussycat for about a week. I didn't stay too long in one place. Just long enough to milk the weirdoes of their money. I was what you would call a headliner. I had a friend of mine back home make up some posters and I would send them ahead to the clubs I was scheduled to dance at so they could build up the audience for when I arrived. You know, "Special Limited Engagement," that sort of thing. I had a picture of me on it showing just enough to avoid an obscenity charge.

      My stage name was Lavender. My real one isn't important. I had a pair of 34's that couldn't be beat mounted on a frame that stood 5'3 in high heels. My waist was thin and so my boobs really stood out. I had long legs for so short a girl and a face that told you I wouldn't say no. I liked to wear my straight, reddish brown hair down to the middle of my back since guys really like it when you drape your hair over their belly or their thighs when you suck them off in bed. And dancing, I would make it part of my act, swirling it around and stuff. My lips were puffed up and what they used to call 'bee stung', maybe they still do. I was a real firecracker. All natural, swear to god!

      My face maybe looked like it wouldn't say no, but I sure did. Not to everybody, of course, but I said no to jokers trying to stuff one dollar bills in between my hard, round breasts. I never took anything less than a fiver. A lap dance would cost you 250 bucks, and only if I liked you. Most of the girls sidelined as hookers. I did sometimes too, but if you wanted my lips around your crank, it was going to cost you. A blowjob went for 500 bucks. If you wanted to fuck me, you had to lay out a grand. An all nighter was negotiable depending on how hot you made me feel, but never less than $2500. Don't get the wrong idea. I was a dancer, not a hooker.  But $2500 for a night's work, well, it was hard to turn down. Most guys would come twice, maybe three times, most. You did the job on them as best you could, I didn't want any complainers, and then you got out at the break of dawn. I never swallowed, always made the guy use a condom and never, ever kissed them. That's where I drew the line. Oh, and no anal. If they wanted that they should get a boy. 

      Boy, did I rake it in! I sent most of my dough home to an investment guy I knew. Over four years, I started out at 17, I had bankrolled about $250,000. I never spent money on myself unless it was for work. My looks were my meal ticket, you know? I stayed in Motel 6's whenever I could and never, never, went out with any guys from the club, especially the owner or manager. Most of the regular girls, and a few of the itinerants, had to earn their way onto the stage, you know what I mean. Well, I wasn't getting on my knees to any of those middle aged, pot bellied hicks or guidos, not for the 'right' to dance at their clubs and not for money either. I mean, you get a reputation for blowing the management and everybody wants a piece of you. I seen it happen.

      No, my reputation in the business was good enough that I didn't have to do stuff like that. Maybe if I had though, what happened to me wouldn't have happened. But, then again, you never know until it's too late.

      Dancing at The Pussycat was not on my regular schedule. I was dancing a few towns over and a guy came in one night. He was kinda cute, well built, muscular like. He flashed some green and asked me for a lap dance. He shelled out the 250, seventy-five to management, that was my deal and no exceptions, and we went in the back room for his twelve minutes. Let me tell you, I almost got off myself doing this guy. There was no touching by the clients allowed, but I might've made an exception for him. He was maybe thirty, with black, short, curly hair. Clean shaven, like I like 'em.

      I knew that he came when I was rubbing my ass on his cock because he shuddered and moaned just right. When time was up, he had a little spot on his pants in the right place, you know what I mean? He told me that he was a talent scout for this club a couple towns over and they needed somebody hot to fill in for a week or so. Well, my schedule was light. I had planned a little vacation. But business is business and so I told him I would do it. And then I did something that was really stupid. Bobby, that was my manager, booked most of my shows. He got ten percent. It was okay since while I was dancing in Sheboygan, he would be on the phone with titty bars across the country trying to line me up. My going rate was $2500 a week. They got 10% of my tips and a percentage of my lap dances. The side jobs I split with nobody.

      Anyway, I figured why give Bobby money he didn't earn? I mean, I got the spot myself. He had about twenty girls he handled and was making double what most of them were making. Figure it out. And there was an annual fee just to stay on his list.

      So, instead of telling Bobby about the gig, I kept it on the QT. It was my vacation time after all. He would figure I was at the beach or something. I didn't tell nobody at the club I was working neither. I didn't want it getting back to Bobby. That was another dumb move.

      Anyhow, I showed up at this club and it was kind of a dive. The manager was this big fat guy who, if he fucked you, he had to do it from behind or with you on top because his belly was too big. He had droopy cheeks, slobbery lips and fading hair. We hit it off right away. The first night I got there, and I was already ruing my agreement to dance his dive, he puts the move on me. I tell him no way. He gets pissed off. I tell him to fuck off and left it at that. I always made sure I got paid in advance, cash, cashier's check or money order. Cash was best.

      The first couple of nights were kinda good. Not raking it in good but worth my while good. Then it started to slow down. I mean, this was a real hick town and these guys didn't have much dough to begin with. This guy, the manager, starts on my case how I'm a skeevy cunt who chased all his customers away. I know he's full of shit because I talked to some of the regular girls and they said that it was always dead during the middle of the week. So I tell the guy to fuck off again and tell him that if he calls me any more names, he can take his fucking club and shove it up his ass. I didn't have to take that kind of shit from anybody. And I knew what I could do. I had been doing it all over the country, and in some tough towns too. The club looked like shit, his drinks were light and way overpriced and he was an asshole. And some of the regular girls, now don't think I'm being catty, I'm just telling it as it was, were kind of skeevy. It was a recipe for bankruptcy.

      On the fifth night I'm there, now remember, I'm booked for two weeks, he starts in again on me. I had refused a lap dance to one of his regulars, a nerdy kind of guy who sat drooling at the bar all night. He just wasn't my type. I was kind of fed up with the place anyway. So, the manager, his bouncers called him Al, tells me I'm a stuck up whore. That was it as far as I was concerned. I never quit a gig before, but this night, after the show was over, I tell the guy that I'm through with his joint. He gets all mad and bug eyed, telling me that I had a contract and all that. Well, I didn't have a contract, our agreement was all oral, and he had paid me in cash. I still had it back at my motel room hidden, taped behind the bed board. 

      Al says he wants his money back, all of it. I tell him to jump in the motherfucking lake or something like that. I would've given him a pro rata return, but he wanted it all so I figured if giving him back some isn't going to make him happy, why give him anything? I told him he could sue me.

      I went straight back to my motel. I decided that I wasn't going to spend another night in that one horse town and so, when I got back to my room, I packed all my things. I got my money stash from behind the bed and was just walking out when the door bursts open. It's two of Al's bouncers. I cursed myself for not locking it. But I wasn't staying overnight and I was going to be in and out, so why bother?

      I started to tell these goons that they got a lot of nerve when one of them, the bigger guy of course, slaps me across the face. It hurt like hell. I fell down and gave out a cry. Now I always got a room in the back away from the rent by the hour rooms and that night was no different. I mean this town was dead. There were maybe three cars in front of the place and mine was the only one out back. So it was not likely that anybody heard me yell.

      I started to get up from the floor when these guys are all over me. One of them stuffs some rag in my mouth and the other gets my wrists fixed up in a pair of handcuffs. I was pissed, but I was scared too. Al seemed like a real scumbag and one of the girls had said that he was connected, but I figured it was just bullshit. As I lay on the floor with my arms trapped behind me and my mouth full of fabric, I began to become a believer.

      My legs were still free and, believe me, my legs were strong after all that dancing. I kicked one of the guys in the balls and he fell over. The other one held me tight and slammed a fist into my thigh. I saw stars. It hurt like a motherfucker! I moaned in pain through my gag. The guy I had kicked had gotten up and he gave me a mighty punch in the other thigh. His anger at being kicked in the pattooties must have given him additional strength since this one hurt more than the first. 

      "You fucking slut!" he yelled at me. "Wait till we get you down in Al's basement. You're going to be sorry you did that."

      And that was when I became really scared. I thought that Al just wanted his money and that the guys would rob me and leave me for the cleaning crew to find all tied up and shit. A trip to Al's basement, wherever that was, clearly meant something different. I decided not to give the two he-men any more cause to make me suffer. I have to say that I might sound calm and collected now as I slowly type this thing out, but I was so scared I thought that I was going to pee. I tried to bargain with the guys, but I couldn't get out but a few murmurs from my filled mouth. I would have given them everything I had and topped it off with a couple of bj's, if you know what I mean. 

      The guy whose balls I kicked had some rope with him and he criss-crossed my ankles and tied them together. The two guys then lifted me by my arms and dragged me to the door. Before going outside, they looked this way and that to make sure that no one could see them and they then made a beeline for their car, a late model, shiny, black Lincoln. One of the guys opened the trunk with one of those little zappers and they threw me in. I landed on some tire iron or something and it hurt like hell. I tried to shout out a protest at being handled like that, or maybe I was just trying to beg to not be locked up in the dark trunk, I had a fear of little, dark spaces, but they just slammed the lid closed. 

      A little while later the trunk opens again. It was the guy I kicked in the balls. I was crying and frantic from just a few minutes in there. He says to me "Where are the fucking keys?"

      I'm thinking for a moment, "What the fuck is this guy talking about?" But then I realize they want the keys to my car so they can make it disappear. Well, I wasn't going to tell them jack shit. Besides, I was gagged, you know?

      So the guy says to me in the meanest, angriest voice I ever heard, "If you don't tell me where the keys are, I'll smash your face to a pulp! And I'll have fun doing it! So where are the fucking keys?"

      Now my face was my business, you know? I mean, you could have the best tits in three counties, the most bad ass rear end and the dreamiest legs, but if the upstairs was all messed up it was no sale. My keys were in the pocket of my jeans. Trembling, I admit it, I was no hero, I kind of thrust my hip at him and looked down at my pocket. He got my meaning right away. "You stupid cunt!" he says. He starts to reach into my pocket to get the keys, but the way I'm all scrunched down, the pocket is really tight. And my jeans weren't exactly baggy. I tried to look hot even when I wasn't working. You never knew who would be looking at you.  

      The guy gets really pissed and he slaps me across the face again like there was anything I could do about it from where I was sitting. "You stupid cunt!" he yells at me again. I don't know why when a guy gets mad at a chick he always calls her a stupid cunt. If my cunt was so stupid, why did I get a grand for an in and out. Twenty minutes, at most, works out to 50 bucks a minute. I bet he never made that kind of money. And these guys are always scrounging around for some koosh, so its kind of stupid to call a broad a stupid cunt when that's all you got on your mind all day.

      Anyway, he pries his fingers in my pocket and gives it a big rip. My body kind of jerked when he did that. I was pissed. They were $250.00 jeans. So I took my legs and I kicked him again, right in the head. I know it must of hurt cause he stood up and started calling me all kinds of names again. He came back and landed one right across my jaw. That's when the lights went out.

      I woke up some time later. The car was on the road somewhere. I could feel and hear it moving. The tires made a whirring sound as we toodled down the highway. At first I didn't know where I was and I started to panic. I pulled on my wrists until I could feel them burning and I tried to pull my legs apart. Someone had put some tape over my mouth which I realized when I tried to push the rag they had put in it out with my tongue. I could feel it on my face.

      Then I remembered what had happened. It was creepy. No one who cared a shit about me knew where I was. All the other girls had heard me tell Al to go fuck himself and storm out of the club. I had packed all my bags for them so there would be nothing left at the motel to say that I'd been kidnapped. It would be at least another week before anybody started looking for me. Even then, Bobby would just figure I took an extra week's vacation or got hooked up with some sugar daddy. That happened once. So it would be two weeks, maybe three until the alarms went off. A lot could happen to a girl in two or three weeks.

      I could feel my body trembling as we went along. I heard this story once where this woman had been tossed in a trunk and she ripped out a wire to the tail light and started tapping SOS's. Someone saw it and called the cops. I thought that was kinda smart. But my hands were locked behind me and I didn't know diddly about wires and lights and stuff anyway. I thought though that maybe if I kicked out one of the tail lights a cop would see the car and stop it. Cops are always looking for some reason to pull you over at 3 A.M., looking for drunk drivers and such. 

      All of a sudden, though, I had a picture of the guy who had knocked me in the jaw, which still hurt horrible, smashing my face after he heard me kicking out his light. Or maybe the one of the guys was following in my car and would see it. It made sense that they would take my car wherever they were taking me, at least until they figured out how to get rid of it. If I had known what was going to happen to me, I would have done it anyway. Getting my face all punched in would have been nothing compared to what actually happened. But I didn't know and I was too scared. A part of me still believed I could talk my way out of it once I got out of the car and they took the rag outta my mouth. Maybe I would have to let them do me a few times, but that was nothing.  I wasn't exactly Snow White, you know what I mean?

      So I didn't do anything. I lay there trembling and keeping my eyes closed so I wouldn't see how dark it was in the trunk and how small it was. I always dreaded being tied up and so I tried to pretend like I wasn't. I never let anybody do that to me, not for all the tea in China. Something from when I was a kid, but that's another story.

      It took a long time to get where we were going, or at least it seemed a long time, not being able to see the road, being scared shitless and having my eyes closed. Finally the car slowed down and got onto some local road. We drove for another while and then the car went on some kinda road that was all bumpy or something. After another while, I felt the car turn off the road, go over a few more bumps and then stop.

      I knew we were in the middle of nowhere. I just hoped we weren't somewhere where they were just going to poke their cocks into me a couple of times and then dump me in a hole. If they did, I wanted it to be quick like a bullet in the back of the head. I didn't want to be strangled. The idea of it made me want to puke. Then I remembered that we were going to Al's basement and I relaxed a bit. They wouldn't bring me all the ways to Al's if they were going to bump me off right away.

      The car turned off and I waited for them to open the trunk. It took a while, I remember that. When it did open, before they took me out, they put some kind of cloth bag over my head so I wouldn't see where we was at, I guess. Two strong arms pulled me from the trunk and then I was dragged across a stone driveway. I could hear the little stones crunching as the men walked, and then we went down some stairs. A door opened and I was pulled inside.

       The guys shoved me to my knees and the bag was yanked off of my head. I was in some kind of finished basement. The walls were covered with this dark, cheap paneling and the ceiling was low. There was a bar with some stools in front of it and a couch and some easy chairs. Al was sitting at one of them. He had a big glass of scotch or something resting on his belly. There were about three or four other guys too, not including my guys. I started to get real nervous because I started figuring they would all want a piece of my ass before I ever got out of there. I could do it, you know, but it sure wouldn't be pretty.

      Al gave me a self satisfied smile. He had that certain look on his face. Placing his drink on a side table, he rose from his chair. He had to put his hands on both arms and push to get his load up. He then walked over to me where I knelt.

      "Not such a smartass now," he said in his gravely, low voice. "I'm going to teach you a little lesson, cunt. Since you wouldn't put out at the club, me and the boys figured you just wanted a little privacy so I had you brought here."

      He looked up at the guys who brought me. Both of them were in the room so my hunch about my car had been right. At least it was here. Maybe, I thought, after I give a round of bj's they'll let me go. Not!

      Al looked at the beefy bouncers who had brought me there. "So, where's the dough?" he asked them. One of them handed him the envelope I had been keeping it in. I had put it in my purse when I was getting ready to leave the motel room. Al counted it out carefully. It was all there.

      He handed the money off to one of his goons and turned back to me. "Now, the way I figure it, you owe me a blowjob, maybe more than one. So we're going to get started at evenin' things up right away."

      He nodded to the guys behind me and I felt the tape ripped off of my mouth. I screamed in pain. Then one of them reached into my mouth and pulled out the rag. I sputtered and coughed when it was removed. I was just about to give Al a piece of my mind, like the fool that I was, when something was jammed into my open mouth. It popped in behind my teeth and forced my jaws wide apart. I knew right away what it was. It was a ring gag. Al was going to fuck my mouth and there was nothing I was going to be able to do about it.

      The sloppy gangster lowered his zipper and pulled out his wad. It was just a cock, you know, and I had seen lots of those, but something about it made my stomach turn. It was still soft and wrinkly. Al gave the thing a few tugs and it started to fill up with blood. I tried to get up, but one of the guys took my hair in his hand and grabbed it tight. Two guys grabbed my arms on either side of me. I tried to twist and turn my head to avoid being stuffed and I grunted and groaned through my gag, "...oouu u-er u-er! ...uuuuh ouu! uuuh oooou!" I mean that's what it must have sounded like. I have to admit that being surrounded by the guy's goons, my hands and feet bound, off in the middle of nowhere, it wasn't really smart to tell the guy "fuck you," or call him a motherfucker, but I was a hot piece of work at the time and had no idea what I was really in for.

      "That's good, honey," Al said, laughing. "That's good. I like to see 'em struggle. It gets me all hard."

      I looked down at his cock and saw that it was close to rigidity. My twisting and turning became more frantic. All it got me was a sore scalp. Al's cock was hard now and he began to press it forward. I saw it disappear past my spread out upper lip and then felt its heat start to enter my mouth. I pulled my tongue back as far as it would go and futilely tried to jam my jaws together. If I could have, I would've bit the filthy thing off.

      Then the cock was inside me. My stomach turned as I tasted its salty surface. Al pushed it all the way to the back of my mouth. I closed my eyes and moaned. The cock was just this huge, obscene presence overwhelming me. I felt abused and violated, helpless to expel the disgusting intruder.  His prick pushed my tongue down and entered the beginning of my throat. I coughed and sputtered, not being ready for it. I knew how to take a cock down my throat. I couldn't have charged $500 for a blow job if I didn't. But his thrust was so rude and forceful that I didn't have time to relax it.

      Then Al started to saw his piece back and forth. Tears of humiliation and self pity came to my eyes. I thought that I was going to throw up. The guy who had my hair in his hand felt like he was trying to pull it out at the roots and the hands on my arms pressed into them like they were holding on to a raging bull, making my muscles ache. Al's cock was hot and hard. After a while, I just wanted to get it over with and I tried to lick it with my tongue, but he was jamming it back and forth too fast. Every time he pulled his cock back, he dumped a flood of saliva out of my mouth. I could feel it dripping down my chin and onto my t-shirt. I could hear the men in the room laughing and joking as Al kept at it.  He must have gone on for about ten minutes. He grunted and groaned as he plowed my mouth, saying, "Take it bitch! Take my cock you cunt!" over and over. 

      When I heard him give a deep groan I knew that he was ready to pop. I had heard the same sound a hundred times. Okay, maybe more like three or four hundred. My lips were spread too wide to feel his cock jerking and pulsing, but I felt his hot jism unloading on my tongue and at the back of my mouth.

      "Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!" he kept yelling as his load poured into me. I could feel it spilling out over my chin. When he was done he told the guy who had my hair in his hand to tilt my head back. "Swallow it all, you bitch!' he yelled at me. "Swallow my cum like you like it!"

      I didn't have any choice. With my head tilted back, it slid to the back of my mouth. I couldn't spit it out. Reluctantly, I swallowed, a sickness coming over me. Who knew where that cock had been? I had tried hard to make sure I didn't get any diseases and now I was taking his white juice right down my throat.

      After I had managed to get his spewm down my gullet, he made the guy who had my hair pull my head down again so that he could look into my mouth to make sure all of it was gone. Satisfied, he tucked his pecker back into his pants.

      "Okay," he said. "Now that that's out of the way, let's get this cunt stripped and have some fun with her."

      Al's boys needed no encouragement. One of them ripped my t-shirt right down the middle. Two guys tore the sleeves in half. I felt myself being lowered to the floor on my back and one of the guys began to undo my belt buckle and unhook my jeans. I was panicked. I wanted to be in control if I had to fuck all of them, but that wasn't the way it was going to be. My legs were still tied together. When they loosened the ropes, I began kicking my feet out desperately trying to ward the many hands off of my jeans. Two of the guys just grabbed them and held them still while another guy drew my jeans and my panties down over my hips. When he got them down to my knees, he shifted position and sat on my thighs. The other guys tore off my shoes and socks and then pulled the pants off the rest of the way. My t-shirt was totally gone by then, ripped off by I don't know who.

      I was totally naked. My bush was trimmed back into a g-string cut, with a little, narrow, reddish brown forest on each side of my twat. I heard somebody say "Put her on the bed!" and the hands around me lifted me in the air and carried me into the next room, writhing and cursing them. There was a double bed in there with a sheet over the mattress and a couple of pillows. They threw me face down on the bed and, while strong hands held me down, someone unlocked the hand cuffs on my wrists. Vice-like hands took their place. I tried desperately to pull my hands away, but I was no match for them.

      Now, I was screaming and yelling all of this time. No words were leaving my mouth, just weird syllables, but I was loud. The men around me were grunting and groaning and laughing as they handled me.

      I was flipped over onto my back and my hands were pulled out to the top of the bed. I felt another set of handcuffs capture each one. My legs were pulled to the side and hooked into some kind of leg irons on a chain. When they had me secured, they all stood back to admire me.

      It was a grisly looking crew. Most of the guys I knew from the club, although I didn't know all their names. A couple of them I hadn't seen before. They were all smiling and laughing at my plight. One of them sat down on the bed next to me and started playing with my tits. I groaned loudly and arched my back trying to get his clammy hands off of me but, of course, there was no way that was happening. His hands were hot and wet with sweat and the feel of them lifting and mashing my boobs made me nauseous. 

      Al came into the room and stood at the head of the bed. He grinned at me. "This is the bed we use to break in the new hookers. I run a few at the truck stop out on the interstate and a few massage parlors around the county. You'll see that it has some very special features."

      Two of the men, one on each side, took hold of the chains that held my feet wide apart and unhooked something from the side of the bed. They began to drag my feet up towards the headboard and I could hear metal sliding on metal like there was some kind of pipe down there or something and a ring was sliding over it. As my feet came north, my knees spread out. I tried to fight it, but like everything else I tried to do, it was useless.

      When my legs were spread out and my cunt made easily available, the men hooked the chains onto something on the side of the bed so that they wouldn't slide back down again.

      "You see what I mean?" Al said, not really expecting an answer.

      I looked at him and tried to set free a string of expletives and curse words, but it sounded stupid. The men all laughed.

      "We'll see how tough you are in a couple of days," Al said. "And when the boys get done fucking you, I've got something special in mind. Nobody calls me an asshole in my own club. Or anywhere else for that matter. I've had a hundred bitches like you. What do you think, that your cunt's made out of gold or something?" He looked around at his crew. "Have fun boys. Let me know when you're through."

      With that, Al left. There was a discussion about who would go first. The biggest, meanest looking one of them all won that argument. He pulled off his ragged t-shirt and stripped off his blue jeans in a moment. When he climbed onto the bed, he was grinning. Putting his hands on my widespread knees, he pushed them down, spreading my thighs further. It stretched my muscles until they burned and I cried out. Tears were streaming down my face. I kept thinking that Al had something special planned for me and I was scared at what it was. But my main attention was on the brute who was lowering his body over mine. 

      He put his huge lips on my right teat and started to suck on it hungrily. Despite my revulsion, I felt a little tingle in my cunny as he suckled it. He got tired of that quick and shifted to my other tit, tonguing the nipple and squeezing it hard. He groped it too hard so that it hurt and I moaned with pain. I pulled frantically at my bound hands and legs. It was hard to believe that this was happening to me. A little while ago I was getting ready to blow this town and head for Acapulco or something. I was Lavender, the cock tease of the month. Nobody kissed my tits or fucked my mouth unless I said. And here was a tussle of eager beavers getting ready to plow my bush and there was nothing I could do to even say the word 'no'.

      Bruno, or whatever his name was, started to paw at my crotch. My tunnel was dry as a bone and I realized how much it was going to hurt if I didn't get wet right away. I had gotten myself wet for johns before, even ones that I thought were dweebs. My survivor instinct started to take over. I closed my eyes and let my body relax. I thought hot thoughts like how much I liked it when a good looking guy who had paid his freight was drawing his dick back and forth across my clit. Or how I liked to have my pussy licked, especially when some guy paid me so he could do it. Bruno's hands were rough and inept, but I knew I was getting wet when I felt one of his thick fingers slide inside me. I thanked the Lord.

      "I think she likes it!" Bruno shouted. He lifted his hand and showed the other guys. Some of them had brought in chairs so they could watch in comfort and some were still standing around. A couple had left the room figuring, I guess, that they would just wait their turn out by the bar.

      Bruno turned his attention back to me. He reached down and took hold of his piece. "Here comes my thick, fat cock, honey. You're going to like it."

      I felt the meaty head of his prick start to push aside my labia. He entered me slowly, thank god. It took him a long time to get all the way in. I realized that he wasn't bullshitting about his cock. It was big and long.

      When he started his motion in me, I sort of started to shift my hips to cooperate. The quicker these guys got off the quicker they would tire of fucking me. I didn't want to get off, I mean that was the last thing on my mind. But having the crowd of men around me was not much different that dancing on stage strutting my stuff, which almost always got me hot. And Bruno's cock was so big and, I have to admit, he knew how to use it. He gave me long, slow strokes of his weapon, dragging it across the top of my 'V', making my clit tingle. 

      Bruno was much bigger than me and his chin reached up to my forehead. He had propped himself up on one hand and was using the other to massage and pinch my titties. All of a sudden I realize that the guy is getting me hotter and hotter. It's not what I want, but I can't help it. I read somewhere's that you should be a cold fish when you're raped, maybe even piss while they're trying to get inside you. But with so many guys I didn't think that would get me anything but abuse. I had only started to buck my hips to get the guy off, but now I found that I couldn't stop. My cunny was sending messages of want to my brain. "Me want more!" it said over and over.

      Despite myself I groaned with pleasure. The boys around the bed gave a cheer. I wanted to stop and not give them more cause to deride me, but Bruno wasn't cooperating. His steel hard rod just kept going back and forth, back and forth, slowly but surely, driving me wild. 

      I came way before he did. I moaned and growled. My mouth was still gagged and so I made kind of a howling sound. There was another cheer and a lot of laughter. I was too out of it to understand what they were saying, but I knew that they were making jokes and mocking me. I didn't care. All I could think of was my hot koosh and the big bone that was riding it. My pussy sent me heavy, deep contractions of pleasure. Bruno's cock went on and on. He was getting faster and faster. His body tensed and he groaned. His chest was mashing my boobs down and his thighs were smashing against mine. I cried out as my pussy exploded once more. The he came, and my pussy exploded again, while I whined in misery at having my koosh filled with this fucking guy's spunk.

      As Bruno slowed his motions, I started to cry. I had given these bastards quite a show and there was more to come. I could feel that my pussy was still hot and could take a lot more. I didn't want to, but when the next guy slid his meat into me, I gave a deep sigh and my eyes glazed over.

      I don't know how many times I came. Once I got going it was hard to stop. But, I think, after the third or fourth guy, my pussy was drenched with come and I was exhausted. I had nothing left. The guy whose turn it was just kept pumping his meat into my squishy hole like I was one of those blow up dolls.

      I don't know if I was awake when the last guy did me or not. I knew that I passed out at some point. I awoke when somebody was shaking my shoulder. My legs had been drawn back down. The chains had been brought to the middle of the bottom of the bed and my thighs were close against one another. I was stretched out like a hot dog on a fryer. I looked up, groggy. Al was there. He was back for his surprise.

      "Wake up cunt," he told me. "I'm going to pay you back for insulting me. Nobody does that. They take what I give and like it. Now, I don't now whether you're going to like this, but I can tell you that I am."

      It was then that I realized that Al had a whip in his hand. It was long and thin, kind of like a fishing rod with a leather handle. I was a sitting duck. There was no way I could avoid his blows. A got a terrible sinking feeling inside me. 

      "...eeeeesae onn," I mumbled. "...eeeeeease !" 

      Al just smiled. Most of the boys had left the room. I guess they didn't have the stomach to watch Al at work. But a couple of them were still there to enjoy the show.

      The first blow struck me right across the breasts. It hurt like hell and I screamed with pain. My back arched and I yanked at the steel that kept my hands and feet confined. He gave me another one across the belly.  It was as bad as the first. I moaned and cried and begged him to stop. He struck the top of my thighs and then worked his way back up to my tits. Al was a big guy and I don't think he was holding anything back. I don't think that I was ever so distraught in my life. I writhed and jerked at the chains that held me. I screamed and yelled. My skin was raw wherever he struck me. My tits burned. He hit my nipples dead on and I felt like my body was going to explode.

      When he stopped I was a bawling, moaning mess. I looked at him forlornly. There was not a drop of resistance left in my body. I would have done anything he asked just to avoid getting hit again.

      "So, Lavender, or whatever you're real fucking name is, did you like my surprise? Eh? Well, I'm not done yet. I told you that this bed had certain special features. You're going to see one of them now." 

      He signaled to the guys at the bottom of the bed. They bent down and I felt the chains that held my feet to the bed being unhooked. Stepping up on either side of the bed, they brought the chains back and up over my head. There were chains hooked onto the tops of the posts on either corner at the head of the bed and they connected the chains from my ankles to them. My legs were spread above me into a wide 'V'.     

       I realized that my inner thighs and my pussy were now made vulnerable to Al's whip. If I had panicked before, now I was hysterical. "....eeeeease! ...eeeease! ...oooooonnn! ...oooooonnnnn!" I yelled frantically. My sobs turned into a humiliating blubbering. "Ohhhh, ...od! Ohhhh, ...od!" I cried out in a useless attempt to get my maker to intervene. 

      Al stepped to the foot of the bed. He tapped the whip lightly over the soft, pale skin of my inner legs and over the sensitive, raw sex between them. All of the abuse that my pussy had taken had made it sore enough. A whip atop it would send me into a raging fire.

      Smiling, Al raised the whip and brought it down on the inside of my right thigh. I screamed in pain. Blubbering mangled pleas of desperation, I tried to get him to stop. He went up and down my two legs, hopping over my sex each time. He was saving that for last. I watched him at work between my outstretched legs and saw that he was really enjoying his work. He face was all red and spittle was emerging from his lips. Then he did it. He brought the whip right down in the middle of my pudenda. A ripping pain coursed through me. It was too painful to be put into words. I stopped my crying, not able to get my breath. He did it three more times. And then I passed out.